Dreams Are Cold

Lois Lane, finding herself in her hero/lovers arms for the first time in 5 too-long years says quietly “I’d forgotten how warm you are.” Superman is, after all, a man. He’s just, well… super.

The movie aside, why do we live in dreams? What is it about what-ifs and might’ve-beens that makes feel so warm inside. “When I was a child…” starts off the stereotypical father- or grandfatherly advice. “Don’t you remember when…” is the soft chiding of an old friend. “Hey, remember that time we…” is the standard greeting of a buddy at the reunion. For beings who cannot move through time at will we sure do keep gazing fondly through that dimension.

Dreams are cold and memories chilly. They are not for dwelling in. The arctic is for studying (from afar and in well-warmed rooms). There are people who become bitter at the world because it will not stop still for them. The saying goes you keep putting it off until tomorrow and all you’ll end up with is a bunch of empty yesterdays. As you’re climbing life’s ladders and you reach the top, will you look back and see nothing but empty rungs?

Not to say that dreams and memories are wrong and bad, they can help keep us close to those we love, they teach us when there are no teachers around, they protect us when the present seems to dark to bear. But they only have meaning and purpose when they are used in the present to protect and brighten the future. Yes, Superman left his lover jilted when he left to see if he might find a place he felt he could belong, and his dreams were cold. What he found at the end was that it was his place to be lonely, the Pandora of Pandora’s, and yet to be loved by an entire world and felt as their own by each and every one of them. And Lois found that in dwelling on the slight she forgot the hero, and it served neither of them well.

Numb3rs Blackface

Anybody remember blackface? Considered to both be the advent of black culture growing in the entertainment industry and an evidence of racism based on exaggerated racial stereotypes. In its ugly form, blackface was white people laughing at white people acting like white people thought black people acted.

Courtesy of the CBS Website, I’ve been watching Numb3rs for the past few weeks and find it an enjoyable show. It combines some of the crime drama of CSI with some different forms of character development all arranged around some seriously stretched applications of mathematical models to extremely complex systems which in reality would require super-computers hundreds of years to compute, but with Charles Epps brain, can strung together into accurate models in matters of minutes.

Reality-stretching aside, I’ve enjoyed the show for the most part.

In the season finale “When Worlds Collide” however, the show tries to be political and shows that blackface is still alive an well in America.

The show’s tag was intriguing, to say the least:

A Pakistani non-profit group is suspected to have ties to Jihadist groups and is on the FBI’s terrorist watch.

It was a decent show for the most part, rife with moral quandary, suspense, relational tensions, etc. But as the plot moved along and it became clear who the bad guy was and what his relationship was with the rest of the members of the involved groups, I was rather disturbed.

Xenophobia

A typical xenophobic perspective of other cultures, and one based in sad reality across the world, is that other cultures see themselves the same way we do.

If you don’t know many people of a particular ethnicity, it is normal for you to find it difficult to differentiate recognizable differences and unique characteristics between individual members of that group.

The standard “they all look the same” is real and normal and definitely an indicator of the perceivers lack of familiarity with the perceived.

Blackface

The writers of Numb3rs had resorted to the crudest of blackface to create their villain. The bad guy ends up being an opportunistic former member of the IRA terrorist groups seeking money and markets for this illicit weapons trade.

Using face paint and a beard reminiscent of British military officers in the far east of the last century, he transformed himself into a swarthy quasi-pseudo-Pakistani.

The assumptions were:

• The members of the organization would not recognize this impostor as not being authentically a member of his supposed race.
• The members of this organization would not recognize this impostor for his lack of connection to their group through relationships.
• White people can pretend convincingly to be other races through extensive makeup and acting and survive extended contact while not being recognized.

Individually, these may be true in certain cases, and with dedication and a good makeup crew, they could indeed be accomplished. But the circumstances of the case where such that such foresight did not likely occur.

Just as in your race you are most able to recognize by look, action, and vocabulary, those who belong and those who don’t, and even more so in those groups you are involved in and even more so when those groups are primarily of one race.

So too, in the story premise, the writers of Numb3rs, in an attempt to bring the far-fetched possibility that we’re not really fighting against Muslims: after all, they’re a religion of peace, eh? But against opportunistic old-school European terrorists such as the IRA.

I know they’re not saying “all” such suspect charities are not funneling money to terrorists. I know the government in it’s dealings with Muslims right now is treading a thin line, and most likely, more often than not, abusing it’s responsibility and prerogative in it’s dealings with the same.

But our primary enemy right now, not of our own creation, but born of sheer necessity and self-preservation, is Muslim-based Islamo-Facist ideology and it’s supporters, both active and passive.

It’s Called Christmas

Much thanks to Tammi over in the Sunflower Desert for finding this gem:

The Name’s Derci, Ariva Derci

Casino Royale is a gritty film with a bit more life than recent Bond films. This film apparently falls near the beginning of the Bond saga and tells of Bonds early days before and immediately following his receiving 007 status. There is much less gadgetry and the resulting action is more authentic for it. The classic Aston Martin Bond car is driven on screen for only a few moments before, well, that would be a spoiler. Suffice it to say, this is a very believable film as far as action goes.

This film also delves into who Bond is as a person. He has one supreme relationship in this film and he, well, that would be a spoiler too. There are the customary bedroom scenes but these are nothing more than a PG-13 film, with lots of kissing and a bit of off-screen bed-sheet pulling. I have only seen the Pierce Brosnan Bond films prior to this and I found this one deeper, richer and more enjoyable, even if it did not have quite as much “flash”. There’s still plenty of killing and maiming in creative ways, and the directors even made poker look enjoyable, which they had to considering that’s about half the movie.

Towards the end, there is quite a lull in the customary non-stop action, but this also serves to frame the final scenes and make it that much more, erm…, interesting shall have to be the word as most other adjectives might be used to deduce the eventual result.

Anyways, this is a recommend, with caution for younger peoples. If you like Bond, this is a good Bond. If you like action, there’s that in spades. And even if you’re a bit of a romantic, this has a classic romance woven throughout. So enjoy.

Frozen Toes

Happy Feet is a wonderful movie which brought the whole audience to laughter several times during the showing I attended. The animation was incredibly life-like and well executed making it easy to believe those are real penguins you see singing and dancing. Technically it was quite an achievement and I’m now looking forward with much anticipation to my copy of Computer Graphics World where they will no doubt delve into the machinations necessary to produce such a result. But beyond the eye candy the story, the songs, the scenes, the whole movie is very enjoyable.

Note: There are a few minutes of “save the world” propaganda towards the end and the whole major premise of the movie does involve a slight twist of eco-freakishness. However, it’s easy to ignore for the most part and the ride is still very enjoyable. Suitable for all but the youngest of children (there are a few tense moments involving seals and killer wales, but even these are no worse than similar Pixar productions), and enjoyable to adults. I had a hard time keeping my feet still and not bursting into song myself, but I restrained myself and my fellow theatre-goers do not know from what terror they’ve been saved. And one of my group, a relatively jaded young man, admitted that even he enjoyed the film.

Prestidigitators Unite!

The Prestige is a brilliant show requiring more than one viewing (though I’ve only seen it once so far). About two days after I saw this film I realized that the whole film is played out just like the acts in the magic shows that film is about, and about that I shall not further elaborate.

I can only say that for the discerning theatre-goer who appreciates a well-crafted tale of intrigue and suspense will not find their time wasted here.

The story is relatively simple to encapsulate: two magicians beginning as assistants and amateurs carry on a rivalry where each attempts to out-magic the other. Throughout we are faced with questions about humanity and decency, and we are caught looking one way when the Prestige rushes upon us and we are enthralled in the wonder of a good story.

I Hated Will Ferrell

Yes, I did, not for lack of trying to find something redeeming in his movies. He’s just soooo Will Ferrell. I couldn’t see his characters because he’s just sooo Will Ferrell. I couldn’t enjoy his humor because it was sooo Will Ferrell. I know he’s a smart guy and if he decided to act like someone besides Will Ferrell, which by the way for all you groupies out there is kinda the whole reason for acting, he’d do one heck of a job. His last fare that I saw, Talladega Nights was supposed to be funny for the fun it made of all things southern and NASCAR, but it wasn’t. I felt kinda dirty after that movie, for forcing myself to chortle a little at that dumb humor. It wasn’t even that dirty, just dumb. If you want smart humor that makes fun of something, see Team America, but then again, I can’t in good conscience recommend that one either for the things they make puppets do. So don’t go see Team America, but just know that they show how you make fun of things without being dumb, like Will Ferrell.

That disclaimer aside, I wanted to like Will Ferrell, and so when I saw previews for his new movie Stranger Than Fiction retained hope that he’d not butcher what looked to be a very interesting and intriguing film. And so, with some misgivings I settled in at the local cinemark to view what could have been another Ferrell Flub. And I loved him. Well, not totally, don’t ask me why but his eyes always seemed kinda dead to me, and while in this film they’re not so dead, there were just a few too many close ups of Ferrell’s Eyes. Anyway, Ferrell was not Ferrell in this movie, he was Harold, this complete nerd of a Tax Man who leads a pointless life of quiet desperation. And then someone or something (is it the toothbrush that’s narrating my every action, he asks himself?) steps into his life and through series of events plausible only because Ferrell, who you can believe as Harold, makes himself seem so normal and every-guy, breaks from his shell.

I’m not giving anything away, all that’s in the preview. I enjoyed this film. It’s relatively clean, but children will just not find it interesting in the way adults will and the other adults in the theatre will be very upset at you for bringing the writhing wiggle worm who insists on asking you what’s so funny. The audience at my showing laughed out loud several times, but it’s far from a comedy. So yes, I can now say I enjoyed a Harold, I mean, Ferrell movie.

Quite A Splash

Flushed Away, the newest in the Aardman stable of fine sights, is refreshing, funny, hilarious, and the slugs have it (elaborating would give it away). With humor that children can get and adults can appreciate, and plenty of flashy eye-candy for those who disdain those lesser things such as plot and narrative, both of which this show does have as well. It’s definitely light fare, but you won’t consider it a waste if you’ve spent a precious $9.50 (plus popcorn tax) on it as an evenings entertainment.

Note, Aardman has moved beyond strict clay-mation with this flick, but they’ve worked hard to retain the charm that clay brought. The work that went behind this show is incredible. Hip Hooray to Aardman and here’s to many more.