Why Nightcrawler Was the Best Film of Last Year And We All Missed It

Perhaps one of the best marketing strategies for this film was to sell it like something out of time, something surreal, keeping in touch with its Neo Noir roots. 

Except for a few 10 Best of the Year critic's lists, and some outcry here and there that Jake Gyllenhaal was robbed of an Oscar nomination, this film barely made returns upon release and flew quietly under our radar until it reappeared last month on Netflix instant. It's been in the 'Trending Now' category holding firm ever since, and everyone is kicking themselves for not seeing it earlier.

This was truly a sleeper hit. I can only imagine that dreaded pitch in any executive producer's officer in Hollywood. 'Hey, so yeah, it's a neo-noir...I'll explain later what that is, anyway film about a sociopath who undertakes a career in crime news as a stringer who eventually kills everyone who stands in his way of achieving his dream of exploiting the absolute worst in all of us. It's an indictment...I'll explain that later too of the news industry, and a satire, yes I'll explain later, on our vicious need for sensational news. Who do I see in the lead role you ask? Well I'm really hoping Ryan Gosling will return my phone calls. How long have I been waiting by the phone? About a year'. 

Lucky for us, appropriately named Bold Films, finances the project, and the man who eventually returned the phone calls was none other than the extremely versatile Jake Gyllenhaal who's acted in everything from niche cult classics like Donnie Darko, to Oscar caliber films like Brokeback Mountain, to just absolute shit like The Prince of Persia. 

The way that particularly Gyllenhaal is photographed gives such a window into the thematics of his character. Against the bleak darkness of an unforgiving world, he illuminates the worst part of what we can't see amongst it. (Ooooh that was poetic)

We know the man has chops, also we know he's experimental and fearless. He might be a pretty boy, but god damn, if his performance in Brokeback didn't make you well up, then check yourself for a pulse. Sorry Ryan Gosling. Once he was on board, it was an easy break. Filmed on location in LA, where permits and state tax laws make it almost impossible to afford shooting there, somehow they pulled it off. The setting was such where it had to be the third main character, and that's exactly what they achieved. The opening montage of LA landmarks in the middle of the night was wordless visual poetry. First time filmmaker Dan Gilroy wrote such a flawless script, I can't understand why he had trouble selling it, wait yes I can. It's seedy, it's dark, and it's an indictment of LA culture in particular, the likes of which we haven't seen since Sunset Blvd.

When it finally landed on Netflix, that's when we all took notice. but it was too late. Open Road had run such a piss poor Oscar campaign, that the film barely garnered a nod for Best Screenplay. And of course, everyone finally understood that outrage we read about that Jake himself lost out an Oscar nom to Bradley Cooper; in the film community Cooper was vilified of not only costing Jake the nomination, but also costing David Olyelowo the nod for Selma, the latter of which perhaps being more of an outrageous happening. 

In one of the more grizzly parts of the film Lou Bloom beats the police to an active home invasion and what he does next is completely shocking and yet portrayed with an unapologetic spirit.

People don't like dark films, people in Hollywood that finance most films definitely don't like dark films that point a mirror at their own culture and show them the ugliness of their own black souls. But we forget the main points. When Sunset Blvd. (perhaps one of the best films ever made) was released the only Oscar it won was for writing, but it lost literally everything else. Writers know good shit when they see it, too bad their a niche minority in Hollywood. 

We want to believe we're noble, and heroic human beings who overcome unsurmountable odds to achieve mental and emotional clarity; hence the Bradley Cooper nomination. Did you really think that Gyllenhaal's Lou Bloom; a straight up vicious sociopath who commits atrocities in order to further himself in a business that glorifies violence, as an antihero could stand up to that? Not with the Academy being 80% old white dudes. And Eastwood, his director being one of their own. 

Not since Ace in the Hole has there been such a taught satire of using the news to better one's own career with the subjects of the news being those that pay the ultimate price have we seen such a bleak look into the duality of man, and not since Network has there been such a quippy satire of the news industry; where if you can't find the news, you create it, and the bloodier the better. As Rene Russo ever so eloquently puts it 'picture our news cast as a screaming woman running down the street with her throat cut'.

'I always say if you're seeing me, you're having the worst day of your life.'

All of those thematic elements that give every film studies student a boner aside, the writing is absolutely perfect. Everything is right there on the page, and writer/director Dan Gilroy really fused his directing ability with putting it into the script first so that the actors who read it would know exactly how to play their characters. One rule of making a film about an anti-hero or an antagonist front and center is that no matter how vile they are, the audience has to find something within them that they can relate to. You cannot have a full on villain that is completely unrelatable carry your film, because the audience will hate you, and they'll hate the film. 

Take Network par example. Faye Dunaway's character of Diana Christensen; the ruthless head of the TV station that goads everyone around her into the realization that the news is what they tell people it is, and if it's not there, they'll create it, is a total monster. Faye even asked her director Sidney Lumet what her character's vulnerability was, and he told her 'she doesn't have any'. This was coupled with two other characters who did (played by William Holden and Peter Fitch) the latter of which finally realizes that his life has been bullshit and gives that iconic speech of 'I'm Mad as Hell!' to a shocked audience. 

the "I want something people can't turn away from" in parentheses (no matter how violent) notion was first galvanized by Faye Dunaway the ruthless station head in Network (seriously watch it, can't believe you haven't yet)

Does Lou Bloom have vulnerability? Probably not, few sociopaths do, but we are attracted to him nonetheless, because we all know what it's like to be hungry, ambitious, and at times ruthless, we've all done something we're not proud of to get what we want, because we want it so much, not to Lou's extent, but we've been there...especially if you live in LA. He's a great antagonist because it's not his vulnerability we relate to, or any weakness he might have, but his motivation. Out of loneliness, anger, and frustration, Lou Bloom dehumanizes himself so that he can utilize a robot-like systematic means of climbing to the top without any second thoughts to his actions. 

On top of which, the story albeit heavily saturated with elevated themes doesn't push any of that into your face. It's Neo-Noir at its best. It's shot against a bleak backdrop of the bad neighborhoods of LA to accentuate the bad parts within the characters; a rusty environment leads to questionable choices. Noir is not supposed to be easy to watch. By definition, it's dark, it is not uplifting, and more importantly, it's the 'bad guy' that usually comes out on top. And if there is no such resolution, then there is none to speak of at all. A hallmark of Noir is ending it ubiquitously without giving the audience the answers it hungers for; so is the world going to be ok? Probably not, Noir dictates. Because there will always be people like Lou Bloom in the world. 

Me personally? I love films like that, that's what I was raised on. The great noirs of the 40's like Detour, Kiss Me Deadly, and Double Indemnity coupled with the death and lunacy laden films of Ingmar Bergman made me the finely well-adjusted adult I am today. This isn't Robert Zemeckis or Frank Darabondt, and Tim Robbins will not finally get to stand in the rain after being incarcerated for 40 years at the end of it (I'm talking about Shawshank Redemption for all you novices). This is the real world, where people aren't born malevolent, but their environment forces them into a desperation that brings out the worst in all of us. We don't want to admit it, but we'd go there too if we were hungry enough. 

Beautifully written, beautifully acted, beautifully marrying neo-noir gritty realism with (excuse the cliche) heart-pounding echo of a good-old-fashioned action thriller, Nightcrawler is definitely one of the greatest films of that year, if not in fact my subjectively favorite one. Birdman: Or the Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance (which won Best Picture last year) might have a lot of sappy sentiment that it masks in unique and brave directing techniques and indelible performances, but a man who overcomes tremendous odds to succeed in the liberation of his soul is much more appealing to viewers than a man who without a second thought brings mayhem and sadistic cruelty to the world around him and effectively makes his environment more ruthless simply by being in it. Brings new cadence to the phrase; 'If you can't beet 'em, join em'. 

Below clips of aforementioned films and trailer for Nightcrawler. Also the shooting script is available online. All it takes is a good Google search. Or ask me, fuck it. 

What Lou Bloom wants...

Let Me Explain Housewives Culture to You

Promo still for the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills Season 4 reunion. Premiered yesterday.

I hate reality TV, and I mean with an adult pre-occupying hate. There is really nothing likable about it except for the schaudenfreude we all feel after finishing an episode of Couples Therapy or some show where someone's just the personification of the 'hot-mess express', which is basically every show. You look into my iTunes library, and it's seasons of cerebral shows like Sherlock, Mad Men, Downton Abbey, some Lost because you know, of course), and then a plethora; just a cornucopia of different episodes of different incarnations of the Real Housewives franchise. I have two favorites, the others, I really don't pay much attention to, but the 'classy' ladies from Beverly Hills and the nutbags from New Jersey have transfixed me, and I'm an Ivy League graduate. It's beyond a guilty pleasure it's more of a guilty obsession, to where I actually imagine myself on the cast. 

Frenemies Brandi Glanville and Lisa Vanderpump share a laugh on Watch What Happens Live.

Here's the irony, a lot of these women are not even housewives. They are not even wives some of them. Par example; Brandi Glanville a regular 'housewife' on The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills has been divorced for 6 years. Another member of the cast; Lisa Vanderpump is certainly not what we think of as a housewife considering she's an entrepreneur and a working woman, with 2 high-end restaurants in Los Angeles to constantly manage. But apparently being the equivalent of a homemaker is not the criteria it takes anymore to be cast on this Bravo juggernaut. 

White house gate crashers Michaele Salahi and Tareq Salahi shake hands with President Obama. 

One incarnation of the franchise that I loved was The Real Housewives of DC, which was absolutely brilliant. When it ran for it's one and only season back in 2009-2010, DC was the 'it' city with everyone's fascination tuned into that city's culture. Obama had just become president, and it was a hub of culture and activity. It was like move over San Francisco, Portland, and New Orleans, there's cool shit going on in DC. Bravo was not about to let that pass them by, and decided to move their cameras to DC, and what was cool about those broads was that unlike most other housewives from basically every city that they pick, they actually had class, were 'old money', and spoke articulately, which is something you never expect from a Bravo syndicated show. There was just a tiny bomb on that train which happened to explode all over the network and they found themselves in some serious hot water and that bomb goes by the name Tareq and Michaele Salahi. Remember them? The White House Party crashers? Yeah they were on the show, and Michaele was a bona fied housewife, but believe me, it didn't take for the others long to figure out just how big of a phony she really was and when the gate crashing happened and the two were put on trial, the other housewives had a big laugh watching it together to bask in the glory that was Michaele's demise. Unfortunately, because of that little stunt, Bravo was disallowed from continuing the DC franchise and there were no more seasons filmed there. 

Table flipping, weave-pulling, and general screaming was a staple of the Jersey Housewives franchise. 

The Jersey housewives kill me because there is literally nothing stopping them from bad and tacky behavior. These are not 'ladies', these are Jersey girls, who all married rich and now they get to act like completely despicable morons, but it always comes back to the same thing 'family' a very Jersey notion. And also very ironic because most of them spend their free time which is all their time trying to sabotage one another considering that most of them are related, so I'm not sure how high 'family' actually exists in the totem pole of important things for them. I'd imagine somewhere between Louis Vuitton handbags, and cheap wine. 

A never-ending supply of booze was definitely a housewife unto itself. 

And then there's my favorite girls to see unravel with every blessed episode; The chicks from the hills, Beverly to be exact, so much irony in calling them that since most of them don't even LIVE in Beverly Hills. One lives in Malibu, two in Belaire, and I think one's even in the Valley. They switch up that cast the way a girl switches up her favorite pair of jeans to wear. Lately they've had two additions; British-born Wicca Carlton whom I love, and Puerto-Rican beauty queen Joyce, whom I can't stand...and let's face it, none of us can. Drunky Taylor, who's husband killed himself probably because the show was getting a bit too close for comfort on all of his embezzlements and fraudulent money deals, is off the show (fucking finally) as is heiress, gravely-voiced monster uberbitch, Adrienne Maloof. And that's all well and good, but I love how even in the face of the worst kind of estrogen motivated backstabbing and drunken arguments, they still manage to act like ladies...this includes Brandi by the way. For those not in the know, Brandi came on like a spitball on fire as Adrienne's then Lisa's BFF, who was cheated on by her husband B-movie actor, Eddie Cibrian with his co-star at the time, Leanne Rhymes. She drinks, she cusses, she wears clothes that are far too revealing but keep in mind she's a former model, that's just par for the course. She's kind of like the American Patsy Stone if Patsy Stone was a real person. She's had tiffs with basically everyone else on that show but still somehow manages to come out on top, and not because she's taller than everyone else. I think she's basically the main reason to watch it if you're going to get into it. At the reunion, which premiered its first half yesterday she had no problem telling Joyce that she looks like an Olympic figure skater in her dress, adding to that 'Sochi's calling bitch'. So I guess that's basically why. It's also the same reason women tend to 'hate their friends'...there's even a term for that; remember 'frenemies'? In Julie and Julia (2008) there's this great scene when Julie her husband and her friend are eating and Julie says 'what does it mean when you don't like your friends?' and her friend answers back 'it's totally normal', then her husband tries to add 'men like their friends!' and Julie says 'we're not talking about men, who's talking about men?'. So if you're a woman, you should get into it, the only season running now is The Real Housewives of NYC, which has been a snoozefest since Bethenny Frankel left, so punch those reruns into your iTunes and prepare to laugh your ass off if not find yourself totally relating to some completely inexcusable behavior, because you know what ladies? It's all within us, these broads just have the balls to show it off, in front of cameras. Once a week. On Bravo...in 8 inch Louboutin stilettos. 

RHOBH Season 2 intro, with some old faces, that look like new faces thanks Botox! Damn these girls are smart...no sassy, sassy's the word I'm looking for :P

RHODC intro. They just have the 1. Sorry for inability to find clips Bravo runs a tight ship. 

And finally the new seasons of Jersey intro. You can just smell the animosity.

'Southern Charm' Translates Into Day Drinking and General Philandering

The cast of Southern Charm, the only way you can tell this doesn't take place in Beverly Hills is that they are in a southern style mansion (or set) and the men are wearing three piece suits.

Bravo has definitely bled the Los Angeles area dry with all of their reality garbage from the OG Real Housewives of the OC to The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills, to Vanderpump Rules, to Shahs of Sunset to...you know fuck it. But then they remembered that one of the most popular series of their Real Housewives franchise was the one in Atlanta bitches. So they decided to take that private jet with Andy Cohen's face on the sie of it back to the south and this time plant it in one of the oldest city in our sad little country; Charleston. A city I was only aware of after watching Gone With the Wind (1939). 

A Southern Gentleman...why? Because he's sitting on a yacht. 

In actuality, Charleston is steeped in an amazing history. They've kind of been in hibernation since they were founded back in the day (1600's) and live by those same principals (slavery and blatant racism aside). The Southern gentleman for the men, the Southern Belle for the ladies, the coming out parties, the mint juleps, sounds quite awesome honestly. Also, it's a beautiful place, you know from pictures I've seen. 

So this show is about rich people in Charleston, just like every other reality show on Bravo is about rich people, mostly in the Los Angeles metropolitan area, but this time it's pretty cool. It's like the new money of Beverly Hills meets the old standards and mannerisms of England that the settlers brought with them to the good ol' south. 

A real Southern gentleman. The British, Leslie Howard. 

I just remember it being hilarious and wonderfully ironic that in Gone with the Wind (1939) that takes place largely in and outside of Charleston, the iconic 'Southern Gentleman' character is played by the English actor Leslie Howard, because lets face it, there's really nothing gentlemanly about the Southern Gentleman for like forever now. They all have what one girl on the show described as perpetual Peter Pan Syndrome, and that's what we all look for in a man isn't it ladies? It's 10am and their pouring themselves a stiff whiskey with a twist while they adjust their tie for the polo match where they'll eventually drunkenly hit on your best friend right in front of you. As it's so eloquently put in the trailer; 'here in Charleston, they'll say 'bless your heart' and turn around and stab you in the back'. So now we get to look forward to old money making jackasses out of themselves, rather than new money doing that which is just so much more fun isn't it? And aside from the geography, that's basically the only difference between this show and everything else in the Bravo shit cannon. So happy watching! 

Really Distasteful Halloween Costume Ideas

Yes, we are all aware that just like Sarah Palin in 2008, this year Miley's VMA outfit is going to be everywhere this Halloween. But did you ever think to dress up like Sarah Palin's child with downs? Didn't think so? Or perhaps just Miley's tongue? Here are some ideas that are sure to be not PC at all and really work as a conversation starter.

1. Amy Winehouse's Ghost. If you're into really looking terrifying for Halloween what better way to start. Amy looked like a walking corpse a long time before she kicked the bucket, so you wouldn't even have to work so much on the 'undead' look. Just pale yourself up a bit, it helps if you're seriously thin, and then do the beehive hairdo and the Cleopatra eyes. Or you can come as her date and bring a beehive wig duct taped to a broomstick. 

2. Casey Anthony. Now this is going to get even the liveliest, friendliest party all riled up. Get the big fly-eye sunglasses, a notebook, and a smug look on your face and if you want to go balls to the wall tasteless you can get a doll, cover it with death paint and scream 'not guilty' into people's faces. 

3. Melissa Gorga. For those of you not in the know, Melissa was a new edition to the Real Housewives of New Jersey clusterfuck being Teresa Guidice's sister-in-law and also the youngest and prettiest of all of them. So this one is easy, as much body glitter and fake tanning as you can find, a really skimpy outfit and try to self-autotune your voice whenever speaking. Also, it really helps if you carry around a book that you've made a hard cover of that reads 'I Advocate Marital Rape'

4. Don Draper's Conscience. This one is easy. Just wear all black, or a cape and say it's an invisibility cloak because he doesn't have one. Get it?

And I just had to leave you with this...

Enough with the Open Letters! French Films are Exploitive. We Get It.

Lea Seydoux in Blue is the Warmest Color (2013)

So if you religiously check Indiewire.com every morning like I do, you'll see that the director of the sleeper hit Blue is the Warmest Color (2013), Abdellatif Kechiche has penned an open letter to its star, France's new 'it' girl Lea Seydoux, who called the filming of said film an experience that was both trapping and disrespectful in terms of dealing with its racy sex scenes. Guess what folks, without racy sex scenes there would be no French cinema to speak of let's just be honest here. Especially now-a-days with directors like Christophe Honore and Catherine Brellait leading the charge of how-much-gratuitious-nudity can we cram into a 2 hour film and the answer is...a lot. But you know what? With such content comes responsibility, and I'm going to side with Seydoux here. To be fully nude surrounded by grips, electricians, script supervisors and who else is no fun, and to have to do it take after take, can be exhausting, not like I would know, but I'm sure at this point shooting porn is a more wholesome experience than going full on French.

Kechiche basically blamed her for trying to destroy the very same film she helped make into a success and also not to mention helped to win the Palme D'Or. He writes, "Miss Seydoux, who after having repeatedly thanking me publicly and privately and having wept in my arms at Cannes for allowing her to take on this noble role … has, against all odds and all personal coherence, radically changed her attitude towards me." 

In his letter Kechiche calls Seydoux 'spoiled and opportunistic' um, exaggerate much?

So why don't we just calm the fuck down and take a look at the mistakes we might have made as directors. Actors are by definition fragile individuals who look to directors not only for guidance but for comfort, and not exploitation, unless of course you like that sort of thing. And now, I'm going to name a perfect example of someone who refuses to follow these guidelines and has the balls to blame his actors for not 'being comfortable'. 

20 year old Maria Schneider and Marlon Brando in Last Tango in Paris (1972)

One, Bernardo Bertolucci has been accused of this very thing on several occasions. The first and most infamous case I can remember is when Maria Schneider, Marlon Brando's co-star in the then X-Rated Last Tango In Paris (1972) famously said that in the scene where Brando's character sodomizes her with butter lubricant (there's honestly no wholesome way for me to describe this folks, sorry) that she felt that not only was she being raped by Brando, but by Bertolucci himself who just let it happen without asking her not even once if she was comfortable, if she wanted to stop and catch her breath, if it was all too much, you know, everything we as girls would like to be asked in scenarios like that...even if it's simulated. It's just polite.

This misogynistic behavior on Bertolucci's part continued up until The Dreamers was released in 2004 and sex-pot Eva Green basically said the exact same things. It's a film I've seen on a few occasions and I can tell you that yeah, the sex is pretty gratuitous, and no one had to work harder at it (no pun intended) than Eva Green, she had the most nude scenes, the most sex scenes, the most bodily fluid involving scenes as gross as that sounds, and she said that sometimes even though she's a seasoned professional and full fledged Frenchie, it was hard, and she felt that she received no guidance or comfort from her director who basically sat behind the camera and watched like some perv with a box of donuts and a pair of night-vision goggles. 

Eva Green in one of her most erotic scenes in The Dreamers (2004)

 I believe that Bertolucci is someone who makes gratuitously sexual films for his own personal pleasure, kind of like the James Spader character in Sex, Lies and Videotape (1989) so he can whack off to them later, he just happens to be really good at it and call it art, and let's face it a lot of French directors seems to go down that road.

So in conclusion; Kechiche - You should be thankful that Lea Seydoux who is huge not only in France but currently in America even participated in that film, and without her quite honestly I don't think the Palme D'or was within your reach. Enough with the open letters, there's this cool devise called the telephone, pick it up after a bottle of Bordeaux and go nuts. But also realize you are not blameless here brother. Here's a link to his open letter: 'Blue is the Warmest Color' Filmmaker Pens Enraged Open Letter; Slams 'Spoiled,' 'Opportunistic' Star Lea Seydoux

Trailers below: 

Britney's Gone Proletariat...You Better Work Bitch

Still from 'Radar' almost Kate Middleton but not quite. Nice binoculars btdubs.

Britney Spears has probably never picked up a book in her life that did start with the words 'Chicken Soup For' much less read the Marx manifesto, but I'm starting to notice a strange trend in her work, and I'm wondering if it's just out of rebellion, sickness of privilege and entitlement, or she's gone full on Communist on our asses.

The trend started a few years back with the release of her single 'Radar' in 2009 off her Circus album, which was a triumph by the way. The song was a catchy weird melodic tune that alluded to someone Britney was non-chalantly pursuing because he appealed to her. The video however gave me pause. It starts out with her driving a Bentley to some English country house that rivals Downton Abbey and meeting sweater-vest wearing, shoe-shining, vanilla spoiled rich boy for a weekend in the country for some polo matches. How Madonna of her. She is dressed very appropriately for the occasion, she probably asked her wardrobe stylist to look like Kate Middleton but with a Britney flair. She sits atop a big patio and while vanilla gold-plate man tries to woo her by giving her diamonds (they are a girl's best friend), she keeps being distracted by some scruffy Josh Holloway from Lost looking guy who's gearing up for said polo match. I mean he's playing polo so he's not exactly a chimney sweep, but he don't have no mansion in the hills to entertain his lady friends. He's just a scruffy sweaty hot guy that's really good at polo. The next scene is the match itself and while Ritchie Rich is arguing about who won, scruff-daddy woo's Britney until she throws her diamond necklace (how wasteful, keep that shit, love fades things are forever) and they run away together. Ergo hottness wins over money...but you know, it's nice if the guy's got both. 

Britney dressed to the nines at the polo match but her mind is somewhere else, as she repeatedly points out.

Then I saw this trend reappear when her single 'Criminal' started climbing the charts in 2011. Also taking place in England, no idea why, she's cast opposite her then actual fiance Jason Trawick who plays a tattooed, mean-streets biker, with a gun fetish who rescues her from an uptight British bitch of a boyfriend who insists she go to parties with him and act like a damn lady. I have no idea where this came from. Jason Trawick was a former agent at WME, he's not a bad boy people, he barely has a personality, but you know what, a few fake giant tattoos, some hair growth, and that crazy six-pack he worked for made him look like he would beat the shit out of a guy for looking at you the wrong way, which he does in the video. It's a Bonnie and Clyde-themed thing, they rob convenience stores and make out, like a lot, while she sings about how she knows he's no good but she's still in love with him even though he's a...say it with me...criminal. Then they kiss in a blaze of bullets when the bobbies catch them (that's British for the po-po) but miraculously nothing hits either of them and they escape. Again, giving up a life of empty luxury to risk everything with some guy you just met who looks cool on a motorcycle. Style over substance, I get it. 

Wait a minute, he rides a Harley AND has a gun? Jackpot!

And now she's driving the point home with her newly released single; 'Work Bitch' (September 16th, 2013), fuck the video (which is ridiculous and totally under-budget for someone like her). The lyrics say it all; 'You want a hot body? Want a Bugatti? Want a Maserati? You better work bitch'. Yes, those are all superficial things that I want more than anything, seriously someone buy me a fucking Maserati, but still she's saying that nothing comes easy, even 'parties in France' and you have to work for what you want, and every time I drive through Beverly Hills I have to remind myself of that to keep from crying. I'm sure it's got something to do with the fact that she almost lost everything and is kind of poking fun at that. She lost things that were of actual importance to people like custody of her children, so she's being somewhat ironic, either that or I'm giving her too much credit here, but I think she's smart enough...yes I did just fucking say that. So basically driving the point home, Britney is telling us that this lifestyle that we all want (didn't you watch The Bling Ring (2013)) Oh you didn't? Yeah no one did) Anyway, this lifestyle ain't all it's cracked up to be. And the important things in life you have to work for...also scruffy guys on motorcycles are way hotter than a man who has everything except an interesting personality and a living soul. 

Below the videos for the aforementioned singles. See if you can point out the similarities. It's like Britney homework. Which is the best kind.

How Much Did The Canyons Suck and Why?

I made this my background on facebook ironically, and people took me seriously. Um...urly?

Good news friends, I watched The Canyons (2013) so you don't have to. That's right I sat in a dark room, chains-moking, crying, and shaking for two hours, it was like the climax of an episode of Intervention. I was at a party the other night, and people kept mentioning it to me, and at first it had seemed like something I had never heard of because I subconsciously blocked it out. But then things kept coming back to me, like an amnesia patient on a bad soap opera; Lohan, Schrader, porn aficionado James Deen, kickstarter, and then the Eureka moment came, and I almost had a hemorrhage.

Lindsay Lohan from fame-whore child-star gone horribly wrong, drunk driving, and general infamy fame, Paul Schrader from rogue student film generation and Taxi Driver (1975) fame, and James Deen from hardcore anal porn fame collaborated on a shitshow funded almost fully by kickstarter because not even the most eccentric film executive in this godforsaken town would put money down on this project. It popped up that night on my iTunes menu to rent for 6.99$ and I took that as a sign. I put my hand over the 'rent' button and prepared myself for the worst. It was right before I left work, so I took a minute in the bathroom to have a 30 second cry, and then drove home, shaky already.

A still from the film. No, seriously. Now it haunts my nightmares.

It was a warm Los Angeles Friday, and my roommate was away for the evening. I was all alone, vulnerable and scared. I cuddled our dog, and my favorite pillow and pressed 'play' and by the time it was over and my roommate had returned, my face was covered in mascara that had run down to my chin from the nervous crying, my hair was disheveled and I was rocking back and forth like a crackhead who just had their baby taken away from them by the government, grasping the pillow like I was in the freezing waters of the Atlantic with the Titanic sinking behind me, and it was my life raft/frozen dead person float.

Lindsay's signature look which I like to call 'melted Barbie'

As a Warholian, even I was completely and utterly disgusted by the casting, which is in fact, very Warholian, and probably intentional on Schrader's end. Warhol, as some of you know, frequently cast porn stars, junkies, vagrants, and hustlers; all labels that we can throw on both Lohan and Deen, but he cast them to eat bananas sensually, get a blow job from the neck up, or sleep for 6 and a half hours, and considering both Lohan's and Deen's range as actors, that probably would have made for a better film, but Schrader just had to write in a damn narrative didn't he? And these motherfuckers that he cast actually had to pretend they could act!

Yes everyone stop talking to check your phones. It makes for good time filler!

We haven't seen LiLo turn in a good performance since...well ever. And as for Deen, he's basically good at one thing, and it's below the waste. It was almost comical to watch them try to deliver lines and cry and be sadistic, weird, and fabulous if it wasn't so fucking sad. I don't even want to tell you the story because there basically isn't one. Wiki it, it's like a sentence. For someone who was as innovative and fearless to write something like Taxi Driver over 30 years ago, this is the utmost in public humiliation. They should all be taken to the town square and put on a medieval rack and flogged for our amusement because this film was like experiencing the Theater of Cruelty, but not in an ironic titillating way, this was downright cruel, and it's a scar on the back of Los Angeleans, like they don't have enough as it is, because people will watch this thinking that's what we're actually like...and that's only HALF true! Usually I would recommend to watch something bad just for shits and giggles, but I wouldn't even watch it with a drinking game involved. It will just seriously depress the shit out of you. No reputable festival even allowed it to be screened because they didn't want they're name sullied. Way to make a comeback Lohan, and as for James Deen, stick to what you do best; no words, just thrusts.

A Reality Show About Red Necks? How Fucking Fascinating.

As all of you pathetic shit-eating couch potatoes know, tonight A&E will premiere it's 4th (yes 4th) season of Duck Dynasty like it hasn't completely bled it's audience dry with garbage programming for 5 years and counting. Television is making a statement folks, and the statement is this; we know you're tired of seeing shows about people richer and more powerful than you (thanks for nothing Bravo network) especially during a fucking recession, so we're going to appeal to the dumb-it-down average nascar enthusiast who has nothing better to do with his time demographic and give you shows about people that clearly had parents that were related to each other.

So before when your inner monologue as the viewer was 'god I wish I had that life' while watching any Real Housewives franchise, it can now be 'god I'm glad I'm at least in better shape than these fools' while watching any show to do with red necks, which happens to be the 'it' factor of reality TV right about now with shows like Here Comes Honey Boo Boo, Sister Wives, and the ever present Duck Dynasty. Now most of these shows get reamed up the ass with criticism on how they exploit (holy shit, reality TV exploits things!?) poor and stupid fame whores for profit to a sadistic audience, but surprisingly enough, Duck Dynasty gets nothing but praise for it's 'wholesome' and 'family-oriented' atmosphere. Puuuuuhleeeaaaase. 

Looks like methed-out Santa

Here's the premise for the show just for those last 5 people on this planet with self respect that just cruise right by that when it airs. It's a family of redneck brothers, wives, fathers, and crazy uncles and they made millions (apparently) off designing duck calls. For the lamen, a duck call is a kazoo-type instrument used to simulate the sound of a duck so as to lure actual ducks into the path of a giant gun in order to shoot it for sport. Don't that sound appealing as fuck, rootin' tootin' bootin' flootin'...whatever. 

And basically there's a lot of hi jinx which I'm sorry has to take the reality out of 'reality TV' because no actual person would be in contrived situations that involve some kind of problem solving tactics and hilarity ensues when no one can cooperate properly. That's basically the premise of every episode. It's like Saved by the Bell with rednecks.

I mean can we all just admit the ugly truth here? This programming is completely backwards...basically just like most of the south is and always will be. Family values? Are you fucking kidding me? I remember an episode where the grandpappy had to teach is grandson about the birds and the bees using crawfish. Now I know this is the boondocks of Louisiana but don't they have sex-ed in their one-room classrooms? Or at least show him how to put a condom on a goddamn banana. Also, it's just so chalk full of mysoginy it's sickening as a woman to digest. It's like someone rammed a turkey baster of testosterone down my throat and I'm choking on it. You get the picture I'm painting here? All the women look like they just stepped out of a Ms. Purtiest Louisiana pageant only 20 years too late, and do little but complain and shop, oh and that other thing that it's implied women do well...cook. How forward-thinking of you. Even though the show claims that husband and wife duck-team are 50-50 and everything is even between those two we all know who wears the ill fitting camouflage pants in the family, and that's another thing; why the fuck are they always in camouflage? Is there a war they're being sent off to later (wishful thinking), I mean, you're hunting ducks. Seriously? They could probably tell you're there if you were dressed in the brightest colors that would make any drag queen jealous. Stop pretending that what you do matters or that anyone gives a shit. 

Also, am I the only one of a different religion that gets the indoctrination message of this damn show? Oh only good Christians make millions off the dumbest ideas ever and only have little things to worry about and no real problems. Us filthy Jews gotta keep on truckin'. 

Everyone say 'fame whore!'

Which brings me to the center of this shrubbery maze. Nothing interesting happens on the show, it's scenarios like 'oh my shirt is dirty' 'oh my daughter uses her phone too much' and 'oh no one wants to help me with this absurd idea I just pulled out of my ass'. I cannot believe that many people are wasting their time on this, it's not even remotely funny and the characters get old damn fast. It's like when Cher refers to Amber as a Monet painting in Clueless (1995); 'it's like the painting see, from afar it's ok but up close it's just a big old mess', just imagine being in close proximity to those people, if the smell doesn't get to you, that old-timey borderline ridiculous, inarticulate Southern country fried wisdom will. I don't know how many seasons this show has left in its cannon but I'm seriously praying (to my Jewish god) that it's not much more. A&E, it's time to regain your dignity and stop digging yourself into a giant sticky quicksand hole...literally.

Harmony Korine vs. Sofia Copolla

Emma Watson stars as the 'ring leader' in The Bling Ring (2013)

With Spring Breakers (2013) on top of the box office charts in its first week of release, and The Bling Ring (2013) slated to be Sofia Copolla's most interesting film yet in a sea of non-interesting bullshit fluff, one has to compare the two considering the subject matters are extremely similar thematically. 

Both concern bright young things with 'a talent for living' who are not shall we say well-off but not necessarily starving either and go on crime sprees if for no better reason than that they're bored. 

In Spring Breakers, the motivation is to find sufficient funds to keep the beer flowing and the bikinis off for an endless spring break that leads to violence and murder, while in The Bling Ring, a bunch of spoiled brats from Beverly Hills decide to rob other rich peoples homes if for nothing more than attention, which they got. They even made a show about it which aired on E! called 'Pretty Wild'. Needless to say, it didn't do so well. 

Beautiful still from Spring Breakers (2013)

The motivation of crime for crime's sake stretches way back to the times of the infamous Leopold and Loeb case where two rich lovers decided to kill a young boy believing themselves to be personifications of the Nietzscheian 'Superman', killers without consequence, those who do the crime without ever considering of doing the time, just to see if they could get away with it, and more often than not, they can't. 

In both films the characters are hipstery brats that have nothing better to do with time, and we love to hate their careless abandon but also embrace it as we live vicariously through them for a little under 2 hours. 

The members of the so-called Bling Ring and co-starring skinny jeans.

Both of these themes run parallel in the stories of both films, so the question becomes who will be the more outrageous. Clearly, my money's on Korine. I love the man, and if you've ever watched any of his films he's one step away from pure Vincent Gallo-esque outrageousnous.

Sofia on the other hand, has always been close but no cigar. Her films almost have a point, and then they don't. It's just about sad and lonely people in a world that doesn't understand them and....snore. 

But I have to give her at least some credit, after watching the trailer for The Bling Ring, I was almost impressed. The Sleigh Bells playing in the background was also helpful, and it looks rather accurate if it's actually based on the facts which her prior film Marie Antoinette (2005) was certainly not. 

Haromony Korine, one of our generation's greatest auteurs.

Therefore we have to think of these films as a series in the portfolio of auteurs, and for Korine, this definitely fits in with his repertoire. Drugs, sex, violence, and everything bizarre have always been the corner stone of his content, and what he's able to do with it so brashly and apologetically is nothing short of art. If The Bling Ring (2013) is to be taken seriously, and looks like it's going to be, it's going to have some serious shoes to fill. The film needs to be sardonic, contemptible, fanatical, and tawdry, all in the best way imaginable. It needs to be filthy like Korine, or it will be just as forgettable as all her other endeavors, so I guess Sofia, I wish you luck. You'll need it.

Official trailer for The Bling Ring (2013)

Official trailer for Spring Breakers (2013)

An excerpt from 'Pretty Wild' the show about the girls who started the bling ring, featuring ring leader Alexis Neiers.

Ode to Joan Crawford

As some of you know, I'm writing a play about Joan Crawford, not particularly to dislodge all of the 'wire hangers' rumors or discredit her daughter Christina's novel 'Mommie Dearest' which for all of it's sincerity was highly and almost comically sensationalized. 

I want (for some reason) to help people know and appreciate Crawford for who she was, and that was the 'ultimate movie star'. I'm sure that when the term was being coined, she was whom they thought of first. Not only was she a consummate professional studying constantly, taking allocation lessons, losing and gaining weight for roles before it was a thing, and even know which eye to cry out of when she needed to for a scene, but as an iconic figure head of old Hollywood, she's one of the most recognizable. She only won one Oscar, but had always stuck to her guns. She played the game until she could play it by her own rules and that's what makes her unique. 

Joan Crawford the flapper under contract at MGM

Aside from the alcoholism, obsessive behavior, abusiveness, chronic infidelities and other personal bullshit, Joan was a true professional, and completely focused, which is exactly how she became what she became. All that other stuff lead to her eventual downfall, but if anyone had a good run and fought the good fight it was her. 

Although she was married four times, she said that the love of her life was ultimately someone she never exchanged vows with; the very Catholic-bound to his marriage Clark Gable. They were too much alike, both from poor obscure families who came to Hollywood when no one would take them seriously and people had to fish their headshots out of the extras pile. They never gave up and before they knew it they were Hollywood gods, having quickies in dressing rooms between takes. They did 5 films together, but the relationship unfortunately dissolved. Gable's wife wouldn't give him a divorce and Joan was too obsessed with herself to care. 

Joan and Gable always had great chemistry on film. Wasn't hard when the two were in love behind the cameras as well.

Here's another thing you might not have known, Joan was bisexual. One of her most famous conquests was Marilyn Monroe, 22 years her junior, whom she incessantly hit on usually in a drunken stupor when Marilyn would spend the night at her Brentwood mansion, and for some reason Marilyn eventually decided to reject her advances, perhaps because she was not her type, or perhaps because Joan was kind of scary at that point, who knows. Anyway, can you only imagine how hot that would be? 

I love Joan because she adapted to every single thing asked of her. She started in Hollywood as a contracted dancer, not an actress, and appeared as a chorus extra in mid-level films where she was nearly unrecognizable. But with limitless drive and determination she learned everything about the business and made friends with the right people until she was number one on her studio boss' L.B. Mayer's list for his next projects. By the time she had achieved that, she had come into what people like to refer to as her 'face' that very recognizable look of the giant eyes, exaggerated eye-brows, and those crazy lips which Max Factor invented calling it 'the smear'. By the time she was declared box-office poison from playing too many shop girls who make good but still manage to wear designer gowns, she decided to keep fighting and told her boss L.B. 'no more goddamn shopgirls'. After that they fought over parts and she was one of the first to move out of her studio and fly solo. Back then, a hugely risky move, but it payed off because rival to MGM (where she got her start), Warner Bros. was inclined to hire her for a little project sitting on the shelf for two years called Mildred Pierce (1945) which one her her first and only Academy Award. 

Joan Crawford still gorgeous in her 40's in Mildred Pierce (1945)

At that point, she was close to mid-40's herself, a battle year for any actress, but she decided to reinvent herself again; had her teeth recapped, cut her hair short, and wore mannish clothing, making herself into some kind of warrior identity which worked perfectly for Nicholas Ray's Johnny Guitar (1954).

Basically after that, it was a slow decline, but the legacy was cemented. That is of course until her adopted daughter Christina wrote a scathing tell-all called 'Mommie Dearest' and tarnished Joan's reputation forever. No one would give you an argument if you said that Joan was not mother of the year, but the book is not exactly fully accurate. Books need to make money too, and I'm not saying I'm agreeing with it one way or the other. As Joan historian William Schoell said 'it's a great tragedy that when people hear the name Joan Crawford the first thing they think is 'no more wire hangers', because there is another Joan Crawford that people should remember.' Which is just exactly what I'm trying to do. Wish me luck!

Here are some clips.