May 2010

Before I begin, I must admit that there are likely other Shrek-like films to come; I’ve heard about a possible Puss in Boots spinoff movie. That said, Shrek Forever After is the last of the Shrek series as we know it, and boy was is a (nearly) perfect ending to one of the most fun fairytales ever made.

When I first saw the previews to this movie, I was pretty bummed about it. The last two Shrek movies seemed to get progressively worse—less funny, less original plots, and generally more annoying. That alone made a fourth film seem like a bad idea. Then, when we heard that in the fourth movie Shrek would be whisked away from his family for an entirely different adventure—sans babies—I was pissed.

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Each of Jarmusch’s characters, during the early portion of his career at least, were endless rovers. The characters may each have had their own home, or a place to lay down for the evening, but viewers aren’t really given an in-depth glimpse of what those domestic moments are like. But he director and writer isn’t interested in what makes a person normal. Jarmusch is concerned with those little quirks that make us each individuals. And part of the is try to explain why each of us is traveling from one place to another.

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Understanding the intent of a film like New Jack City (1991) becomes difficult once the viewer realizes that Mario Van Peebles is the son of a man who wrote and directed Sweet Sweetback's Baadasssss Song in 1971.

That earlier film, for some, marks the true emergence of a concerted black-centered film market: produced, written and directed by Mario’s pop, Melvin. But watching that film one gets the sense that it was half intended as serious drama, half as political discourse and half (yeah, that’s three halves) as a variation on the crime drama which some could date back to German Expressionist films from the thirties. Sweet Sweetback, in hindsight is ripe for parody – which was basically accomplished with I’m Gonna Git You, Sucka! around the same time that New Jack City was released. While it might be easy for some folks to place New Jack City in the blaxploitation genre – and maybe that’s where it belongs – looking at it as just another crime film works better.

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There are various ways by which to be entertained by films that aren’t really that good. Inebriation and jokes are perennial favorites, but once the booze and friends dry up, there’s gotta be another solution. Working to understand b-movie fair as art probably gets people through a few features. But after spotting some boom mics or off set paraphernalia at the edges of the frame, that outlook becomes difficult.

It’s not as common, but easily more fulfilling, though, to find some soon to be stars (or past ones for that matter) working in cut rate movies. And while there aren’t too many chances to glimpse the second Marilyn Munster outside of 1313 Mockingbird Lane, The Incredible 2 Headed Transplant is one of them.

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Educational institutions are supposed to expose students to a wealth of ideas not readily available elsewhere – well, maybe they’re available somewhere else, but it might just be esoteric stuff hidden from plain sight. Whatever the case, it seems that most folks who pursue education post bachelor’s degree are disappointed in some way. It might be a weirdo clutch of faculty members who aren’t quite together themselves – or it might be lackluster facilities, or even a lackluster cohort. Whatever the case, there’re endless famous filmmakers and otherwise relatively respected folks who ditched their educational goals to go it alone.

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The most important thing about Jim Jarmusch’s Stranger than Paradise really has nothing to do with the litany of “Thank Yous” that come after the proper credits at the film’s end. It’s really interesting to take in, though. Jarmusch was a part of the generation of filmmakers just after Dennis Hopper and Peter Fonda figured out how to make quality movies on the cheap. Of course Fonda’s familial pull didn’t hurt. But Easy Rider and all of the New York films with Italian guys in ‘em revolutionized what movies did and how each went about accomplishing it all.

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The Coen Brothers occupy a difficult position in American culture. The pair’s been responsible for a few of the most thoughtful and artfully rendered filmic work over the last twenty years. Simultaneously, though, they’ve also worked up fair like The Big Lebowski, which can’t be said to be anything other than a spectacular comedy. But after finding such a wide audience, the duo has endeavored to craft a few pictures that seem much darker and personal in nature.

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Spinal Tap

I was a little  late to the "Spinal Tap" game- the first I heard of the fake band  was when "Spinal Tap" made a guest appearance on  "The Simpson's" in 1992.   I was a little stoned at the time the episode aired and was fortunate enough to see the episode twice in one night due to our local station, which was entirely helpful to my concentration at the time. I absolutely loved it!


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I apparently watch Ken Burns’ documentary Jazz once every ten years. For whatever reason, it seems that I also take classes on the history of the genre at roughly the same interval. Despite that, though, my two experiences in classroom settings, getting earfuls of individual’s takes on the development of the music and the country we live in, it seems as if the film has supplanted any semblance of text sets.

First entering academia at the tail end of the ‘90s, I was primed to hear as much music via this new fangled thing called the internet as possible. It resulted in hours of jazz being streamed through some pretty dinky computer speakers. Either way, what resulted was a supreme interest in what seemed like the most well articulated expression of the American experience as musicians could muster.

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Since the Obama’s landed in the White House, there’s been a huge increase in the number of black folks being featured on the cover of magazines. Granted, a lot of that has to do with the Obamas themselves being rather photogenic. But there’ve been a slew of ‘black folks’ features in magazines, sometimes comprising the entirety of an issue, which would have been surprising to find even a few years ago. Perhaps it’s exploitative, but maybe we’ve become so over sensitized to equality and what’s presented to us as proper or fair that it’s really just all part of a slow evolution towards a semblance of everyone getting a fair shake.

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