Confessions of a Summer Wino

i'm considering a move to L.A.

Wed, 23 Aug 2006 11:06:56 GMT

I'm feeling intoxicated with fannish love for, gosh, everything ever. My muscles are taut with the strain of holding it in! De-pressurization is needed.

I am fannish about Wild At Heart. It's crackers, but Nicolas Cage is shockingly attractive (the flop of hair!), Laura Dern is southern and skintight, and Wicked Game plays as the drive through the midnight desert. Chris Isaak is so unjustly unloved, goddammit.

I am fannish about This Is Hardcore by Pulp. The entire album, but specifically that song, but specifically that clip. Most everything I've ever found sexy is contained in those 6 minutes: piano, Candida, dishevelled black tie, film noir, dancing girls, red nails, sinister 50's cocktail parties, Jarvis. Hnngh.

I am fannish about Prince. And Peaches. And JT (Justin Timberlake, omg). They all sit in the 'overtly sexual' file of my mental musical library.

I am fannish about SixFtHick and El Corbett Brothers. I've said it before, true enough, but I had a religious experience at their show on Saturday night. Somewhere between Geoff's giggling tumble over the bar and Ben's display of flexibility, their demonic deviance took hold of me! Shook me! Compelled me to lift my petticoat! Boys, boys, I'll miss you the most.

I am fannish about heading down old South America way (and then up old Mexico way!) in two weeks time. Three months of self-reliance and samba and $3 steaks and seafood. Being my first venture in lone wandering travel, I am equal parts terrified and giddily, ignorantly PSYCHED.

I am fannish about making plans for an illicit fling before one leaves the country. And writing 'sex' in one's daily planner.

I am fannish about Snakes! On! A! Plane! (Thursday), my last day at work (Friday), and Monsieur Dan Kelly and His Alpha Males (Friday). Everything is deliciously, unbelievably rosy.

Buenas noches! (98 Degrees taught me THAT, if nothing else.)

A Boyfights Cookout!

Sun, 18 Jun 2006 05:43:53 GMT

Dearest Die-Hard Dirty Three Fans,

I know that Warren Ellis is clearly the wittiest, most tangential musician in the world, and you've always thought he was THE GUY, you know. And I know you thought that the expectant pauses in his languorous speech would be the perfect opportunity to let him know so. But please don't try to beat him to the obscure punchline by yelling 'COCK!'. Please understand: Warren Ellis Is Wittier Than You.

(Oh! The Dirty Three. So much sighing and swaying was done. They played Sue's Last Ride for Grant McLennan, which was just lovely. Oh!)

(Split Enz! Together in funny suits! I near died of GLEE, UTTER GLEE. From Shark Attack through Dirty Creature and One Step Ahead and I Got You and My Mistake! to History Never Repeats, they were so utterly oddly divine. I shall never snark about reunion tours again.)

(Sodastream are, I think, dorkier than even I. Yet how charming! Their cover of 'Livin On A Prayer' really made me feel for Tommy and Gina, it did.)

There's been an aching, everpresent hole in cinema lately. Caused by lack of pirates. PIRATES. But! omgyaypirates will be back in omgtwoweeks. I will play The Hook by Stephen Malkmus and curse with abandon. PIRATES!

Really - pirates, snakes, and luchadors. What a cinematic feast lies in store for us!

Thu, 13 Apr 2006 07:05:05 GMT

Oh, internets! I throw myself at your well-connected feet! Nothing like living in Sunnybank Hills (the fourth zone of the pulic transport system. FOURTH!) without the internet to make one appreciate it.

To sum up The World At Present:

Snakes On A Plane: still awesome. Ridiculously so. I think it's been elevated to acronym-only level of popularity recently, which means I get to write SOAP all the damn time. Soap in caps! That would brighten anyone's day.

Of Montreal: still crazy. They are, and may always be, the band running through my sugary veins. I want to play 'Party's Crashing Us' over a megaphone outside Hungry Jacks in the city and watch the black black hearts (and clothes and eyeliner) of all emo kids melt away.

A History of Violence: really unfairly great. Unfair in that racial-tolerance-after-school-specials win Oscars and this film was lelf in the corner. History of Violence (and Jarhead, while we're at it) for Vendetta! (It's far too late in the pop culture cycle to make V jokes, I realise.)

Lost: am still its bitch. No matter how clunky the dialogue, how many "plot twists" they think they've cleverly hidden (there is a difference between foreshadowing and telegraphing, oh god). As long as Jack is hefting a shirtless and feverish Sawyer into bed, I will be watching. And digging my nails into my thighs.

Finally, Jarvis Cocker. I paid $40 of my minimum wage to own Pulp Hits on DVD, and I would've paid that for 'Babies' alone. Oh I want to take you home/ I want to give you children/ You might be my girlfriend / yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah!

Everyone eat much chocolate and be merry!

brisvegas, you don't bring me flowers anymore

Sun, 05 Mar 2006 04:18:13 GMT

Moving house. Oof. All the excitement of moving to the wilds of Sunnybank Hills *gust of sarcasm* has been dampened, almost literally, by this godawful cold drizzle. Melancholy evenings tucked up reading and musing are only fun for so long. I just want my ~~kids~~ sun back!

And my town! Brisbane, you make me sad now. I once loved your rattling old buses and leafy backyards and tiny grungey bars and empty late-night city streets. Now the buses are too cold, and not many houses even have backyards, and I have to battle through hair gel, synthetic fibres and "dance music" (read: soap stars singing to cheap samples) to get to the one little grungey bar left in the Valley. And there are people everywhere. BREEDING. Brisbane, I need to see a different side to you, or I just don't think this 'us' thing is going to work out.

Rain makes me petulant.

But Jens Lekman makes me insanely giddy. He and Dan Kelly both hold the esteemed position of being the only artists I would go to see by myself. Well, that's a lie. But certainly the only artists so far that I have seen (or will be seeing tomorrow evening) by myself.

it ain't me you're looking for. (babe.)

Thu, 23 Feb 2006 09:07:51 GMT

I'd like to take a moment to thank the deities (or the federal government, whatever) for ABC Classic FM. *strokes it in an elegantly loving way* Really, I think I might combust from dial rage were it not for the glorious sonic surrounds of Classic Drive with Julia Lester or Keys to Music with Graham Abbott. Not only is it soothing, but I'm LEARNING. Graham even played 'Kiss From A Rose' by Seal in demonstrating uses of the minor key, so obviously they are so not stuffy. I mean, Seal? That's verging on cutting edge, even. Rock on, Graham Abbott.

Apropos of nothing, I went ice skating! It's slipperier than it looks. But gosh, I can see why boys and girls get addicted to it. Gliding along. Like a physical realisation of the gracefulness everyone feels they have inside them. Until one tries to disco and skate at once (blame it on the beats of Franz Ferdinand) and falls (spectacularly, shriekingly) to the ground.

Capote was more spectacular. Because that Philip Seymour Hoffman is a freak. (-ishly good actor). It was, I think, about 30 seconds into his performance that I forgot he was even acting. Masterful sublime freak. *loves, even with his Boogie Nights red shorts* Twas also brilliant because it both inspired me to write, while making me absolutely terrified of doing so. Though I feel a spiffy trench coat, sweater, and martini would help nicely.

Brokeback Island might be my favourite thing ever. At least since the last thing I claimed that about (was it The Whats? I still love you, Tim and Dean).

Away! To drinks with friends and the dull ache of missing Lost.

Mon, 06 Feb 2006 09:03:01 GMT

I got around to watching the Lost season 2 premiere, which was kind of ace (yes, ACE). The opening sequence was odd and great, the photography was striking, the flashbacks were intriguing.

And Jack's tear ducts own my soul. Bastard.

No, really. Matthew Fox crying = me crying. And cursing his name. The shame, the shame.

Fri, 27 Jan 2006 09:07:41 GMT

So, The Arctic Monkeys. I don't get it.

Clearly, The Whats should be the biggest band in the world right now. Breaking UK sales records, gathering inches of hype space in NME. They are quite obviously more fun than any band ever.

Music-buying public, you baffle me with your injustices! Bernard Fanning indeed. *derisive snort*

Mmm, it's nice to rant snobbishly after loving far too much too often lately. (Franz Ferdinand oh how I slavishly worship. Brokeback Mountain eviscerated me. Wonderfalls, still with the intense love. Jens Lekman is coming to my town! Also, how can Antony Hegarty be so charming and so heartbreaking?)

Mon, 16 Jan 2006 02:38:44 GMT

Oh. OH. Jason Bateman in Teen Wolf Too. BEST DANCE SEQUENCE EVER.

Antony tomorrow night! At this stage I may indeed be crying buckets by myself (where are all my cultured, musically-inclined friends? Did I ever even have any? Woe! Self-pity!) but I shall indeed be surrounded by likeminded teary types. It shall be a kind of emotional evisceration - live on stage! Hurrah.

I think I have found a new heroine in Jaye from Wonderfalls. Channel 9 at 4:30pm Saturdays, and oh it is the best thing on television. (I've noticed I have no reservations proclaiming 'Best Ever' about anything shiny and eye-catching.) I doubt I'm the first to say 'OMG Jaye is me and me is Jaye' but gosh! I can only hope that my wit becomes as cutting, my apathy as crippling, and my bitterness as repulsive. *hearts Jaye*

Hee, a local paper compared Supernatural to The X-Files. Quote:

'Of course, it doesn't have the sexual undercurrent between the main characters.'

Oh, fandom. Still so radical and underground.

always the traffic, always the lights

Thu, 22 Dec 2005 20:08:01 GMT

So this is what happens at 5am. It's really awfully boring, and I now understand why the world doesn't revolve around 5am.

Tra la la la la, Xmas cheer, etc. Actually, I did go to the most excellent New Farm Christmas Farmers Markets last night, which never fail to pump liquid cheer into my veins. German sausages! Dutch pancakes! Stanthorpe apples! An exotic affair, indeed.

So I suspect that, at a time not 5am, I will be ready for Christmas. Maybe even willing, too. I've even got the shopping bit covered, because the stores are open til midnight tonight. They makes ridiculous lots of money; I conveniently get to shop after I've seen Good Night and Good Luck. Everybody wins with consumerism, baby. *lascivious wink*

I've been feeling terribly lascivious lately. But there are boys in aprons at art shows who laugh at my bad puns, and boys who wear authentic I Heart NY shirts (such commendable defiance, to wear one in the face of obscene mass-reproduction), and David Tennant on TV in a trench coat EVERY WEEK. Nnngh, flail, clench. Why don't I have more Peaches songs?

And I return to the delicious agony of making a mix tape for someone dear. Have good food and festivity this weekend, right? Right.

GOB: Hey, I’m the President now. Filling Dad’s shoes. Literally. Except his shoes don’t fit. But, I did finally get into Dad’s pants. Although I had to have the crotch taken out a little bit.

Oh, AD, my heart expands. Best use of 'Afternoon Delight' ever.

Solid As A Rock!

Sat, 10 Dec 2005 04:26:56 GMT

So I'm listening to 'Free Money' by Patti Smith, revelling in it. A friend calls to tell me she got my delightful (my words) postcard I sent from Paihia, NZ. The one I sent two weeks ago. She is now aware that the weather was great and at the time I was eating far too much good food (though this hasn't changed) and sitting on a pebbly beach. BLESS YOU, MAIL SERVICE. Honestly, I do love the quaintess of mail, and the fact that they still, in these times of 7-day trading, don't run on weekends. It's charming, really, it is. But they wonder why folks use the internets.

I thought I had something more interesting to say than 'Arrested Development is THE FUTURE', but now I realise that's perfectly worthy. (And by Arrested Development, I do mean the show, and not the music group. The music group should not take offense, though.) Finally viewing the first episodes of the second series has been magical - and shocking, in that I am constantly both shocked AND awed at how well it's written. The recurring references! The continuity! The sly political commentary! The sheer number of jokes! The dedication to bad 80's power pop (is there any other kind?)! I want to cry, it's so good.

Antony and Coco Rosie are also good. And oh look! They're playing together here in January. Stephen Malkmus is also soon here, as is Ian Brown. Who, oddly enough, is another of the indie music gods to have appeared in the Harry Potter films, which I think makes it an Official Trend. Oddly, indeed.

Ooh, the trailer for Marie Antoinette.

At this point I am embarrassing in my avoidance of replying to emails. I think I might go write some letters, because gosh, it's just so QUAINT.

Sun, 04 Dec 2005 22:58:33 GMT

Oh, the blush and slightly feverish sensation of coming home. Two weeks of holidaying and adventuring is rather exciting and exhausting, given that I rarely leave my suburb of residence. And gosh, home no longer feels boring but full of warm sticky air and semi-nutritious food and fruit cakes and Christmassy-ness! That sheen will surely wear off when I tackle once more the forms and phone calls and general tedium of everyday life. But now it's sparkly and 'On The Fire' by Holly Golightly will probably be the song I associate with this summer, yes.

CHRISTMAS. It's so rad, and I love it. Honestly, I get a little teary seeing the trashy Chrisco Christmas Hamper adverts, with that woman wearing glitter ALL OVER HER for reasons unknown. Commercialisation + Rum Balls = Best Season Ever.

Yet, am filled with longing for Wellington, NZ. With its hipster kids that are actually hip, very large and very cheap record store, dark and delicious cake shops, sparkling bays, and The Chocolate Fish Cafe. When the appropriate laws are inevitably passed, I shall elope with Wellington and we'll be together forever (4EVA).

Harry Potter and The Informative Subtitle. Hee, it was so very fun. Fun like fairy floss, in that you love eating it, but afterwards feel quite empty and still completely hungry. It sounds like everyone's been liking it, and I did too. But. It felt like a scene summary of the book pasted together. World Cup! Ooh, Tennant in a coat! Quick, pretty girls and gruff boys dancing about! Look out, dragons! But now romance! JARVIS! Make fun of Malfoy! Danger, danger! Death! Doom! Will you write me over summer? And scene. Chop chop, paste paste. It felt to me as if there was no real story or arc or character development for anyone. More a montage than a movie. However, I loved: Cedric (an unpopular opinion, I'm sure), Snape, Tennant, Cho, and Jarvis. And Voldemort. But moreso Jarvis. JARVIS.

Summer television is grate, solely because of Arrested Development Season 2. Finally, my sacrificial goat offerings pay off.

Homebake was also grate, if only because I got to see the kids from Architecture In Helsinki trying to play their trumpets and trombones while grinning in giddyness about being on stage with the Go-Betweens. *pinches their cheeks* Oh, but it was also grate to see Tim Finn sing 'I See Red', and to see Neil Finn just fucking sing. I maybe had a few tears. Maybehaps.

In conclusion, I HAVE KRISPY KREMES. Happy Festivus to all!

Thu, 20 Oct 2005 00:14:45 GMT

I should really give up the illusion that I bother to keep this even semi-occasionally updated. Ha! Youthful naivete.

There are times when I am so terminally bored with this city I want to cry. This is not the case right now. Because things! Things are going on. There are comic book exhibitions, and old-fashioned theatres by the river, and wacky modern dance shows, and 4zzz Market Day with oh so many excellent young kids playing. Of course, it would be remiss of me to leave out this week's Sunday Night Period Drama/Comedy on the ABC - David Tennant! TENNANT! Did you know he's in the next Harry Potter film? Yes? Appallingly, I totally didn't until today. TENNANT!

I feel like I'll have to surrender my Movie Nerd badge also, as I haven't yet seen The Proposition. I did, however, see Grizzly Man, which was so very excellent and compelling and disturbing. But disturbing in that it makes you consider your own reactions to this guy's story. You swing so often from being really sympathetic to him, and then back again. Laughing at him and then feeling guilty about it. Bears are also rather scary.

Snakes On A Plane. I am So. Very. Excited. Who WOULDN'T be, though? There are SNAKES. ON A PLANE.

Also, I hart Dr Grant.

Thu, 29 Sep 2005 01:15:54 GMT

*collapses with hand to forehead* Oh, the emotional exhaustion that follows a viewing of Serenity. My limbs are weakened! And surely the fact it was a midnight screening and I've been trekking bus routes all morning has only a sliver to do with it.

Oh, Serenity. The first time I saw it, all those months ago, I don't think I wrote a word about it afterward. I was too overwhelmed, too giddy, too shocked to even recall much of what I loved about it in any detail. It's such a gorram ride. A crazy, then exciting, then hellish, ride. I know both times I've left the cinema feeling bruised, battered, but stupidly hopeful and exhilarated. It does everything a great adventure film should do, only with so much more connection, more immediacy, more intimacy. And I don't think that comes just from me having lived with these characters in my head for the last little while. I think it's the film itself.

It doesn't look like sci-fi oughta look (which I think some lazy reviewers have decided seems 'TV-like'), which is perfect, I think, because it all feels real and weighted and grounded. I still stare in disbelief at the praise of Star Wars prequel-style special effects, because my GOD they look like animation to me. They're so impossibly pretty and weightless and airbrushed and OBVIOUS. I don't understand why having the thought 'wow, that's a great CGI shot of a city' would be a good thing in the middle of a story. What I loved about Serenity is that I never had a chance to think that, or even to really appreciate the sets, costumes, even photography. It's all background, creating a living breathing space (well, not 'breathing' when they're IN, er, space) for living breathing people. The fight scenes even. There's no 'I just got punched in the face and didn't even blink' moments. Mal - hell, everyone - gets his/her arse kicked well and good. Which means every hit you feel in your gut. I winced and squirmed and yelped more than I have in a long time. And I loves me some gut-kicking squirming.

Aaaand the characters. They just...they kill me. I have never loved Malcolm Reynolds more intensely than when he stumbled out of that dark elevator into the light, having just done the job - his face pretty well smushed, eye bloodied, barely standing. But standing. Mal's journey in the film was so complex, so conflicted, and so compellingly acted by Fillion (Fillion!). I really felt that slow but steady soul-destruction, like he was being hollowed out. And worse, that he knew he was the one doing the hollowing, even as he was pushed further and further to the edge by the Operative. He just gutted himself and it was painful and gorgeous. And the rest - I loved Zoe, in particular. Her presence and subtlety was so important to the movie, especially in the big climactic battle. Really, every character had something important to bring to the movie, a different perspective, and I loved that. Also, Shirtless Simon. Shirtless Mal. Yes.

This film, I'm just beginning to see how well-constructed and thoughtful it is. The plot isn't just a deus ex machina (as, okay, it sometimes was on Joss shows). It utterly reflects and ampifies the themes and subtext of the story. It's almost like the creation of the Reavers is a reflection of the Serenity crew's story. On Miranda, everyone lay down - except for that .1% that refused to. Pushed to the edge, became savage. And we see Mal become more heartless, more savage the farther he's pushed. And then, now I think about it, it becomes so symbolic that Mal transforms Serenity into a Reaver ship. It's all scary and so relevant, particularly now. What I loved most, thematically, was that people can't be controlled, can't be changed. 500 years from now, they're still the same. With human nature you get the good and the bad, and people have to be free to make their choice. Hooray for actual thought in a movie. Tis a joyous day!

Plus, guns and spaceships.

Oh, that is so all I've got in me. Onward! To repeated Serenity viewage, and impending Joss World Domination. I'm preparing sacrificial goats as we speak.

S-Day

Tue, 27 Sep 2005 22:44:00 GMT

Serenity! And I ain't even gonna say 'now'. I am, however, gonna do the Firefly Quotage meme I've seen floating around, in honour of this auspicious day.

MAL: Yeah but she had professional... So in my case, it was really...(to Book) You woulda kissed her, too.

ZOE: Wash didn't.

MAL: But she was naked! And all... articulate!

WASH: Okay! Everybody not talking about sex, in here. Everybody else, elsewhere.

prime conversation over gravy chips and peas

Sun, 11 Sep 2005 06:52:17 GMT

On Friday, I walked home through suburban streets under a 1pm sun with the warm (warm!) breeze rustling just a little. Dan Kelly was singing in my ear and yes, that was the moment I realised it is ACTUALLY SPRING, hallelujah. That is possibly my favourite moment of every year. I saw six whole months of summer in front of me and I did a little skip-hop with excitement.

I am the biggest weather-dependant dork I know.

So I loved the original Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, and how could one not? Clearly someone involved was on drugs, and it was all the better for it. And no one can tell me that Veruca Salt's dress wasn't the coolest thing ever.

But. But! Burton and Depp made it a story, with character arcs and real people and everything, and thus I fell hard. Mr Depp just created that character out of thin air, like he does with every part - he made this anti-social, highly imaginative, paranoid, naive, curious character and HOW does he do that, every time? And his awkwardness was just perfect. And. And. Oh! *fangirls* Plus, pretty pretty real live sets, a very funny script, and the odd meta moment made it perfect.

And, it almost goes without saying, Noah Taylor is clearly the bestest ever.

I really didn't expect Little Fish to be as good as the hype, but it really, really was for me. Kind of surreal and yet with an attention to detail that made everything tactile, it completely drew me in. It never felt like a crime movie, never felt plot-y. It had this emotional thread through the whole thing that kept me breathing with it, and the last scene, oh. Cate Blanchett and Hugo Weaving are so convincing and raw. But graceful too. Oh, it was marvellous, all.

How can a Jimmy Barnes song make me cry? This is a question that will now haunt me.

Music! There is so much music in the world right now. My head is filled with Devendra Banhart, The Little Lovers, Clap Your Hands Say Yeah (incapable of holding a note, thus I am in love), T-Rex, Devo, The Faces. And Dan Kelly - Embedding Himself In Skulls Since 2003.

Devo on the record player demands I must dance. *exits, but in an arty new-wave way*

ETA: So I didn't get far, and now I discover that right this moment Joss is having a beer with whoever happens to join him at The Rocks in Sydney How? What? How? *is awed*

Rain! (Both the film, and the natural phenomenon)

Tue, 30 Aug 2005 05:50:01 GMT

Sweet mercy, it was nice to get rain today. If you listen verrry closely, you can hear the slurping sounds of a whole city drinking it in. Hmm, ew. Also, that New Zealand film called 'Rain' from a few years ago is excellent. With a Neil Finn soundtrack, an extra incentive.

Homebake! The very thought of The Saints, The Go-Betweens and The Finn Brothers all in one day is enough to get me on a plane to Sydney and into a youth hostel for that weekend. Ageing rockers, I salute thee and thy legendary-ness.

Goodness, but hurricane Katrina was a bit scary, wasn't it? I'm thankful that the beautiful New Orleans wasn't completely destroyed like they feared, but it certainly did a number on the place. I am, however, horribly selfish, and had a moment of 'gah I've never seen New Orleans and now it will be ruins!' panic. Yes, am horrible. Self-loathing, etc etc. :D

Look Both Ways is an incredible film, I thought. Simple and funny, but made up of all these little moments that sort of snowball till you're left all teary, overwhelmed, by the end. Gorgeous. And it is AUSTRALIAN, HALLELUJAH.

So, with the obligatory 'OMGWTFLOST?!' out of the way, I loved loved that finale. I'm surprised that most people weren't satisfied, while at the same time getting why they aren't, what with cliffhangers and all. But the show always felt like a 5-year story arc to me (this is how it's been planned, yes?) so I assumed there wouldn't be any kind of Big Resolution at the end of the first season. I was actually surprised we got the whole Walt being The Boy *ominous strings* thing. Though I really just loved how well directed this episode was, and how poignant. The sequence where Walt was taken was especially creepy and brilliantly done, with no music to be found. And that montage. GUH. Sure, end-of-season montage cliche, but oh! The fatefulness of it all! So well acted, just perfect.

I heart Lost.

The problem with working next to a video store with a particularly shiny collection of obscure films is that I become That Girl that's there every day, wandering the aisles. I thought I would be older and more spinster-y before that happened. *slides into old age*

Eep, one month til Serenity. Advance Screenings! Joss on Rove! Serenity in Empire Magazine! Hype hype hype, I go!

Thu, 21 Jul 2005 00:38:57 GMT

Serenity. Bigger Damn Trailer.

So it's the international one, and my word do I love it even more than the first. It's funny, it's exciting, it's all manner of Jossian. And I can't believe I'm seeing this film tomorrow. One sleep. As Fillion would say, HOLY SOAP BOX BATMAN. I think I might cry.

Also, wherefore are all the ecstatic Charlie and the Chocolate Factory reactions? I fear a strange phenomenon, wherein the new Harry Potter book has drowned out the new Johnny Depp film. Oh, sacrifices. Truly, am I the only geek who goes to see much-anticipated films on their opening day?

Speaking of film geek glory, the Brisbane Film Fest is on, and this year I have MONEY, oh joy! Which means actual films shall be seen! I might take the chance to see Mysterious Skin after all, given it could possibly be banned here. *kicks the Society For Parents Who Are Ridiculously Hypocritical, Clueless and Uninformed* Hearing Margaret Pomeranz rant about it on the movie show last night was heartening, though. Have I mentioned how much I want to BE her when I grow up?

Merciful ZEUS. Serenity. I am not worthy.

The Variety Hour - Apocalypse Kink!

Mon, 11 Jul 2005 01:49:25 GMT

Last night, I was strolling around south Brisbane at 11pm, and it was a ghost town. Which was eerie and wonderful and perfect for the mood I've lately found myself in. I HEART APOCALYPSES. Hmm, still no word on the plural for apocalypse, it seems.

War of the Worlds. Oh yes. I've always loved terrible disaster films *eyes the worn-out tapes of Twister, ID4, etc*, and I'll always go see the Annual Cheesey Apocalypse Blockbuster. But I wasn't prepared for WotW to be a GOOD apocalypse movie. It was focused, entirely from the core characters' point of view, and explored what it would FEEL like. There was a reality to it that was unexpected and so well-captured by Spielberg. So I grudgingly tip my hat to his directorial skillz. There were no obligatory 'look, these famous European/Australian/Asian landmarks are being DESTROYED' shots either, thank the gods. And it was surprisingly special effects-lite. Plus, I am completely pervy and wrong and thought Justin Chatwin was particularly dorkishly cute.

Plus, the London thing. It's pretty much already been said, but damn, it's weird watching something like that unfold, isn't it? The main thing that sticks in my mind, though, is just how sane-ly Londoners dealt with it. Brits are survivors, you know? World-weary, stiff-upper-lippy survivors. I kinda love that. And with quotes like these, how could one not?

And, fittingly, the theme at audiography this week is The End Of The World. I foresee an apocalypse mixed CD in my very near future. Some wonderful stuff there. *has The Arcade Fire on repeat*

Speaking of music, the Valley Fiesta (the equivalent of Christmas for Valley kids, really) was gloriously fun over the weekend. We danced at Ric's to The Cars and Joy Division, we sang along at Nightstick, we giggled helplessly at Dave McCormack and the Polaroids, and were overcome with lust and awe at Gentle Ben and His Sensitive Side. Merciful Zeus, that man is. Wow. Huh. In fact, most of my favourite music being made at the moment is being made right here. Go forth and listen!

I'm so envious of all those watching the constant hurricane coverage. I have a day off, and would love nothing more than to geek out in front of CNN, with Anderson Cooper all wet and windswept and enthusiastic. Honestly, is there any nobler way to spend one's day off?

Wed, 15 Jun 2005 01:17:00 GMT

It's rainy and humid here, and I was sweating walking home from work yesterday evening. In June. This has so far been the BEST WINTER EVER. Hart! I often doubt I'd be able to live anywhere but here.

I have the morning off! Which means I have time to belatedly profess my undying love for Ultimate Drew Goddard. The man has the storytelling hand of god.

So for me, that was the best Lost has been so far. Thing about Lost, up until that episode, is that although I'd get glimpses of real resonance and character development, it felt like a thriller. It was trying to shock and scare and intrigue. Which is fine, because I likes a bit of intrigue. But it's not the kind of show I write about and think about. But Drew! Drew, I think, showed what the show (too many 'shows'!) could be. The episode was simple, plot-wise (hunting a boar, woot!), and focused on the internal journeys of the characters. It also had a lovely central theme, and managed to connect several characters to it (Kate, Charlie, Sayid, Jack, Locke) to it in a very believable, natural way.

It's about baggage, and guilt, and the pain that comes with taking responsibility for your actions. Josh Holloway was great, I thought, particularly in that Shrimp Shack scene. Although, come on, Shrimp? PRAWNS, they are PRAWNS. Sounds like porn. We even have a giant one. *sigh* At any rate, Sawyer's got baggage he can't let go of (and, I suspect, Daddy Issues), but hopefully the Not-Sawyer-Boar helped him deal with a little of it. Because this time he didn't pull the trigger. I love that, using the island's supernatural-ness to explore the characters. Yes, Drew Goddard has been schooled in the Jossverse, hee.

Also, ha! They played I Never! What a fantastic scene, with the funny and the serious. Lots more funny in this episode than any so far. Sawyer wore pink! I can see that. Jack's dad is a twat, but I'm glad Jack is aware of this. *still loves Jack, illadvisedly*

ALL HAIL ULTIMATE DREW! Rawk.

Also, from Whedonesque, a little preview of Kitchen Confidential, Nick Brendon's new sans-laugh-track sitcom. Hee, pyramids.

Mon, 06 Jun 2005 10:13:13 GMT

"Michael, do the right thing here - string this blind girl along so Dad doesn't have to pay his debt to society."

That's my love for Arrested Development in a GOB-shaped nutshell.

Oh, I'm loving the Tom Cruise mockage in the wake of first the Oprah thing and then the 60 Minutes thing. *wades in the shallows* Speaking of the latter, I can't have been the only one getting serious Magnolia flashbacks, surely? That (really quite long, because it's P.T. Anderson) interview scene? Eerie similarities, I tell thee. Fitting though, that the most convincing Tom Cruise has ever been was playing an ego-centric, misogynistic infomercial presenter. Yeurgh.

TV.com - huzzah! All one's TV needs in one spot. Including a delicious little trailer for The Inside, which premieres in the US on Wednesday, I believe? Tim Minear is running the show - that's all one needs to know. Though it also helps to know Jane Espenson, David Fury, Peter Coyote, Katie Finnernan and Adam 'Just As Good In A Suit As A T-Shirt' Baldwin are involved.

So I don't think/talk/gush about Hugh Jackman enough. My word, the man could not be any more awesome if he tried. I ~~hope~~ fear if he did try, he'd burst out of those shiny shiny gold pants he wears so very well. And I may just get to see said pants in the flesh, as he's bringing his salsa self (and The Boy From Oz) to Australia next year. *flutters* Also on the Tony front, how great that Spamalot won best musical! What with Alan Tudyk taking over the reins (or...Hank Azaria's character. Whatever. I stand by my phrase!)

Between Spamalot and the Odd Men Out Tour (Rufus and Ben Folds! And Ben Lee, even) that nagging pull in my gut urging me toward New York City is getting naggier. I can only attempt to quell the pain with Parallel Lines on the record player.

Thu, 02 Jun 2005 06:19:47 GMT

I hate winter. The end. *eyes the northern hemisphere with jealousy*

Okay, so not the end, because winter means lots of sitting indoors and reading books and watching movies and listening to A-Ha Shake Heartbreak. THE LOVE! It overwhelms. Part and parcel of this love was much thought about the final season of Buffy. Thus, here it is:

In Jossverse fandom, it's rare to have a consensus on anything, I think. Opinions range wildly, and often someone might love something for the same reason another hated it. But in my skimming of season seven reactions, both at the time (yikes, two years back?) and very recently, there's a kind-of majority of people who were dissatisfied in some way with the final season. The main complaint I've seen is one that I agree with:

What Wasn't So Good - The Plot Execution.. So, yeah, I think that's a valid argument. Things are set up but not payed off, the First Evil is an under-used and ineffectual villain, there's a stretch with mostly talk ABOUT action, rather than action. I won't go into detail any more than that, but I think it came down to a lack of planning. It was a Big Bad arc that needed a good structure to sustain it throughout the season, and I think they kinda forgot about that. So that's what I believe to be the main flaw with Season Seven: it wasn't planned well.

But I think maybe some folks' frustration about the flaws of the season, and not getting what they wanted/expected on screen, stopped them from seeing or engaging with what WAS on screen. That sounds wanky, and I know I'd disengage too if the execution of a show I was watching frustrated me enough. But story-wise, I think they the most important thing right, as they always have:

What Was Really Good - Emotional Resonance. So Joss says that this is his highest priority on the show, and I can't recall a time when they ever lost it. The themes were rich and relevant, the character arcs believable (if occasionally sparse, heh), and hell, I really enjoyed most of the episodes. The season is about growth (as always), and examines the core themes of the show in a new and more focused way.

It's About Alone-ness. In no season was that theme stronger than season seven. Everybody feels alone. Keyword = everybody. Nobody is alone in feeling alone. So Buffy's arc, in part, is about overcoming that feeling of alone-ness, breaking down that "nobody knows how I feel" barrier between herself and everyone else. Buffy is every one of us, in this way. We all feel like the Other, Special, and it's a defense. Buffy's journey is overcoming the ego. She, gloriously, relinquishes that defense, and actively creates a connection. She finds her place as part of the world, rather than separate from it. The First Evil is both a contrast and a mirror - incoporeal yes, but also part of everyone. Shared consciousness. Buffy creates the same kind of connection by sharing her power.

It's About Power. In all senses of the word, you know? Whatever it is that makes us different, strong. Season seven explores really beautifully, I think, how hard it is to deal with having power. Having to make the hard decisions, and to lead. Buffy navigates that leader position rather unsuccessfully until she realises that the power she has is choice (the power that we all have), and chooses to share herself and her power with others. For Spike, Willow, Xander, Dawn, Anya, the Potentials - it's all about finding the power that they already have, and choosing to use it. Choosing to share it.

So that's the core of season seven, and the show in general, I think. God, there's so much more to say, about characters and other themes and episodes and meta - Oh! The META! About the show's place in the world, how it's about humanity and about showing how we can be. That's why the show leaped off the screen for me - characters (and artists behind them) that make me say 'that's exactly how I feel'. It challenged me as a person, constantly. I can't think of a higher compliment.

So that's a little of what I saw and loved in season seven. Um, ta-da!

Wow, that was really vague. But I feel all catharsis-ised, so that's nice. Off to eat I go! And Ben Lee's Catch My Disease really is as good as everyone says. *shamelessly adores it*

I predict a riot...

Thu, 12 May 2005 05:47:26 GMT

I'm breathing into my clasped hands, because a) it's so cold, why? WHY?! and b)

Wonder Woman to possibly film in Australia

*hyperventilates some more* I'm SO doing the dance of Joss On The Same Continent As I, and daydreaming that they might even film Paradise Island scenes in Queensland, holy zeus!

Yes, nothing's confirmed. Joss might wanna stay in LA. They haven't even finished the script yet. Let alone sourced locations.

But...JOSS!

*clears diary, plans relocation to Sydney, hyperventilates more*

through corridors, refectories

Thu, 05 May 2005 07:38:14 GMT

So I'm all aboard the moving forward train, barrelling through life, making time run, yada yada. But oh, when it rains and I have a day off, it's lovely to sit back and nostalge. Because it has been far too long between LOTR boys on the red carpet pictures. *sniffs and hugs the old days*

It's also been far too long between big, exciting, matinee idol movies.

So, Kingdom of Heaven. Ridley Scott has a way of making well-worn and weary genres look fresh and different, and Kingdom of Heaven looks freaking gorgeous. Less of the dusty reds and sandy colours, more of the purples, blues, shadows. Mmmmcolours. And the movie? I'd say it's a flawed gem, really. I thought there were a few structural issues, maybe the odd bit of dialogue here and there. But really, it's a great story, thought-provoking and thoughtful. And Orlando was the other surprise. I wanted him to be convincing, but I was expecting to gently mock. Which, hey, is always fun. But! He was convincing, and subtle, and played a character rather than a hero. Which will likely garner him some scorn, but I think it was a brave choice. And it was a psychological/emotional journey movie, more than a hero!action!war! movie that it's advertised as. That's a lot more than I was expecting. So yay I say! And I stand by my yay. *stands*

But Thewlis was totally the best part of the movie. That sound you hear is fandoms COLLIDING OMG! *metal screeching, sparks flying*

In other news of the fandom nature, still big on the Serenity anticipation. ~~Joss, get out of my brain.~~ But really, I'm heart-ing all the fandoms, old and new, I've been with over the years. Okay, so we're talking Whedonism and LOTR, really. It's nice - I don't miss them, because I'm still very much with them. They just keep kicking on. So I feel very grateful to love some very shiny things. Fandom, this one goes out to you.

*rocks out, ka-ra-o-ke style, oh yes!*

you can't stop the signal

Tue, 26 Apr 2005 21:29:41 GMT

So it's all a-flutter on the internets right now, but just in case anyone, ANYWHERE missed it - Serenity's Big Damn Teaser Trailer

Joss - master of the big screen, it would appear. The scope of this movie goes so beyond the show, and I had no idea they'd be able to do that. Chiwetel is creepy and terrifying! River is all kung-fu ballerina! And MAL. Dear Captain Malcolm Reynolds looks like the best movie hero since Han Solo. Or at least since Jack Sparrow. ROCK! I'm yearning for Kaylee and Book, but it can't dampen my giddyation at just how shiny this movie looks. And I think it's the perfect style of trailer to appeal to the masses - big, shiny, fun, smart.

Aw, this takes me back to the old days of LOTR trailers and resultant squeeing. Mmm, good times.

*rewatches Serenity OVER AND OVER*

the irish keep gatecrashing

Sun, 17 Apr 2005 09:28:18 GMT

*chainsmokes and glugs wine*

Ah. Nothing like five episodes of Black Books (which I finally purchased, yay paychecks!) to bring out my inner alcoholic, smokeaholic, snarkariffic slacker. That's the thing about the show, isn't it? It appeals to the dark side in all of us. The side that wants to yell sarcastic comments at strangers and stick jam and toast to the ceiling. Mmm, it's heartwarming, is what it is.

In pirate news, Viggo's looking authentic/hot/ridiculous (circle one) in these new Alatriste photos. I'm leaning towards authentic, because the moustache doesn't do it for me. BUT! Pirate-y goodness, always a good thing.

Segway - Alatriste is a Spanish-language film, as is...

Bad Education. Oh. My. Godfathers. I am so incoherently in love with Almodovar and his movies. And this one most of all. There's so much passion and life in his movies that makes me all melty. See, I can't even grammarise proper! Oh, and Gael. GAEL, ladies and gents. The man is sex on legs. Very pretty legs. See this movie and I defy you not to dream of Gael in white underwear! Or a sparkly dress! Oh, my.

Briefly this week, I also attended a splendid movie night with friends, where the highlight was the Second Best Burger I've Ever Had. The lowlight was Star Wars Episode II. *sporks brain* Despite all forewarning of the stupendous awfulness of the prequels, I was not prepared for how bad it would be. And this is coming from someone who thought the originals were merely amusing cheese. I didn't realise movies could be this bad. George Lucas has set a new standard for badness. Ep II? Makes Plan 9 From Outer Space look like...erm, Citizen Kane. Or something. Point being - George Lucas, get off the stage you talentless, self-indulgent hack. *heckles, swigs wine*

At which point I'm off to watch Rushmore. Though, arguments can be made that Wes Anderson too, is self-indulgent. But Wes hath not included Jar Jar Binks in one of his films. (Yet.)