I spent the day helping a friend move into a new apartment, so I'm pretty exhausted. I wouldn't say too exhausted to actually write something down, but I guess it's close enough that at this point it might as well be an off day. As with the other times this has happened, though, I don't want to leave you with just this paragraph of excuses, so here's a semi-story I haven't shared on this blog yet.
Escape rooms are still popular, right?
Tuesday, June 25, 2019
Tuesday, June 18, 2019
Champion Of The New
I don’t really think of myself as a film critic. I watch a lot of movies, yes, which I think inevitably means that opinions are going to change and develop as I express them, and there was that one time I tried to have a weekly review blog that we don’t really talk about anymore, but, I don’t know, I guess the label just never really stuck.
But one thing I have realized I enjoy doing from that whole process is telling people about movies they otherwise wouldn’t have heard of. Not in an “If you haven’t watched this movie you haven’t lived” sort of way (see below), it’s more of an “I don’t think this movie gets the respect it deserves” idea.
I think that’s why critics like to do Top X pieces. There are other reasons, sure (lists are both easy to make and easy to consume, search engine optimization and clicks are the driving moneymakers in the gig economy, etcetera), but at least ideally, there’s also the drive to promote. To take from Anton Ego at the end of Ratatouille, “The new needs friends.”
So with all that said, let’s talk about something new.
The Proposal (2018) is a documentary about an art installation, the installation itself about an artist and their relationship with their own artwork after their death. That’s its primary question, one that features prominently in its trailer: “What happens after the death of the author?” But that message has two meanings. The first is the obvious: An artist’s work is their legacy, but art can be a commodity. So what happens to that legacy when someone just… buys all of the art? And doesn’t let anyone see it?
The second, question, though, is a bit more physical: Does their body reach similar sacred heights? Filmmaker and visual artist Jill Magid has an answer to both questions already in mind. Her goal is, by taking you through the same steps she did, by showing you the same pieces of architecture that she has seen, she wants to guide you to that same conclusion. Or, at the very least, think harder about why your answer might differ.
But presenting a perspective and defending it is an obvious selling point for documentaries. What makes The Proposal stand out is just how pretty everything looks. Luis Barragán’s work is treated with the reverence it deserves, with special lingering looks at his Satelite Towers and his El Bebedero fountain, and they emphasize certain voiceover moments as perfect moving images.
One thing I want to point out specifically is how Jill Magid seems to take special pains to try and always film herself from behind. By doing so she becomes an observer, just like her audience, even if she herself admits that by even presenting this story she is forever changing its history and future. She also makes an aside towards the more controversial aspects of her project (“I know my offer is unorthodox” she says in the opening narration). I mention these because, again, depending on how you view the questions the movie poses, you might find yourself hesitant to view further after a little research.
I don’t know how easy or hard this movie will be to find after its limited theatrical run. The way I figure, you’ll probably forget this post by the time this movie re-enters your consciousness. But if you haven’t forgotten it, I hope that this sways you to watch it.
Really, that’s all I can do.
-F
But one thing I have realized I enjoy doing from that whole process is telling people about movies they otherwise wouldn’t have heard of. Not in an “If you haven’t watched this movie you haven’t lived” sort of way (see below), it’s more of an “I don’t think this movie gets the respect it deserves” idea.
I think that’s why critics like to do Top X pieces. There are other reasons, sure (lists are both easy to make and easy to consume, search engine optimization and clicks are the driving moneymakers in the gig economy, etcetera), but at least ideally, there’s also the drive to promote. To take from Anton Ego at the end of Ratatouille, “The new needs friends.”
So with all that said, let’s talk about something new.
The Proposal (2018) is a documentary about an art installation, the installation itself about an artist and their relationship with their own artwork after their death. That’s its primary question, one that features prominently in its trailer: “What happens after the death of the author?” But that message has two meanings. The first is the obvious: An artist’s work is their legacy, but art can be a commodity. So what happens to that legacy when someone just… buys all of the art? And doesn’t let anyone see it?
The second, question, though, is a bit more physical: Does their body reach similar sacred heights? Filmmaker and visual artist Jill Magid has an answer to both questions already in mind. Her goal is, by taking you through the same steps she did, by showing you the same pieces of architecture that she has seen, she wants to guide you to that same conclusion. Or, at the very least, think harder about why your answer might differ.
But presenting a perspective and defending it is an obvious selling point for documentaries. What makes The Proposal stand out is just how pretty everything looks. Luis Barragán’s work is treated with the reverence it deserves, with special lingering looks at his Satelite Towers and his El Bebedero fountain, and they emphasize certain voiceover moments as perfect moving images.
One thing I want to point out specifically is how Jill Magid seems to take special pains to try and always film herself from behind. By doing so she becomes an observer, just like her audience, even if she herself admits that by even presenting this story she is forever changing its history and future. She also makes an aside towards the more controversial aspects of her project (“I know my offer is unorthodox” she says in the opening narration). I mention these because, again, depending on how you view the questions the movie poses, you might find yourself hesitant to view further after a little research.
I don’t know how easy or hard this movie will be to find after its limited theatrical run. The way I figure, you’ll probably forget this post by the time this movie re-enters your consciousness. But if you haven’t forgotten it, I hope that this sways you to watch it.
Really, that’s all I can do.
-F
Tuesday, June 11, 2019
Things To Do Instead Of Writing A Blog Post
It’s an odd situation to find oneself in, only remembering a deadline you’ve set pretty hard for yourself only after the fact. But let’s not dwell too hard on the past and instead focus on things that could be done instead of focusing on deadlines -- the things I was doing instead.
1) Sleeping in! I do this especially after having to close at work, where I just sort of plow through the next morning and straight into the afternoon. There are a lot of other factors, especially in the summer when it’s less likely that I’ll have scheduled obligations in the morning, but it certainly happens.
2) Grocery Shopping! This kind of happens on a by-need basis. I guess that’s just what happens when there are two stores just down the street. This also means I tend to shop a little light. After all, I can always go back and buy more.
3) Seeing a Movie! I saw Meeting Gorbachev, a film by Werner Hertzog and Andre Singer exploring its titular subject over the course of three interviews. It’s an interesting watch, I think. Hertzog at this point is known for his narration and affect which translates well, and the subject matter is something I’ve been tangentially interested in (or interested in because people I know are interested in it). What the film doesn’t do, really, is display too much content from the interviews themselves, so if that’s what you’re looking for, I’d suggest steering away. If you’re looking for an (admittedly biased) overview of Cold War Russian history, though, this is a good one.
4) Cooking! People around me say I’m good at it but I’m not so sure. Like, I can, and it (mostly) tastes good, so I suppose if you call “anyone who cooks,” then yes, I’m a cook. But in terms of personal identity, I don’t know. I’ve never thought of myself as “a cook” even if I do the things a cook does on occasion.
5) Writing Other Things! I have other things! I can’t show you them yet (or, for some of them, ever (sorry!)), but I have talked about some of them in the past. For example, just last week I talked about a sort-of memetic lighthouse and that, well, that still hasn’t gone away. That’s kind of the point of it, really.
One does have to eventually buckle down and get back on schedule, though. That’s what this is for: a list of excuses and a promise to do better. And hey, if you go by the timezones on Blogspot -- a Pacific Time Zone company -- I technically wasn’t late just yet.
I’ll see you next Tuesday, for real next time.
-F
1) Sleeping in! I do this especially after having to close at work, where I just sort of plow through the next morning and straight into the afternoon. There are a lot of other factors, especially in the summer when it’s less likely that I’ll have scheduled obligations in the morning, but it certainly happens.
2) Grocery Shopping! This kind of happens on a by-need basis. I guess that’s just what happens when there are two stores just down the street. This also means I tend to shop a little light. After all, I can always go back and buy more.
3) Seeing a Movie! I saw Meeting Gorbachev, a film by Werner Hertzog and Andre Singer exploring its titular subject over the course of three interviews. It’s an interesting watch, I think. Hertzog at this point is known for his narration and affect which translates well, and the subject matter is something I’ve been tangentially interested in (or interested in because people I know are interested in it). What the film doesn’t do, really, is display too much content from the interviews themselves, so if that’s what you’re looking for, I’d suggest steering away. If you’re looking for an (admittedly biased) overview of Cold War Russian history, though, this is a good one.
4) Cooking! People around me say I’m good at it but I’m not so sure. Like, I can, and it (mostly) tastes good, so I suppose if you call “anyone who cooks,” then yes, I’m a cook. But in terms of personal identity, I don’t know. I’ve never thought of myself as “a cook” even if I do the things a cook does on occasion.
5) Writing Other Things! I have other things! I can’t show you them yet (or, for some of them, ever (sorry!)), but I have talked about some of them in the past. For example, just last week I talked about a sort-of memetic lighthouse and that, well, that still hasn’t gone away. That’s kind of the point of it, really.
One does have to eventually buckle down and get back on schedule, though. That’s what this is for: a list of excuses and a promise to do better. And hey, if you go by the timezones on Blogspot -- a Pacific Time Zone company -- I technically wasn’t late just yet.
I’ll see you next Tuesday, for real next time.
-F
Tuesday, June 4, 2019
Terraforming (Part Four): The Lighthouse
I’ve recorded in the past how I tend not to remember my dreams and how that’s lead to them becoming something of a minor fascination of mine. Most of that is still true, though I do occasionally catch glimpses now. I remember having them, at the very least. This post is still about a fictional dream, but it’s one that pervades my thoughts and demands a setting to be placed in.
It’s been a while since I’ve written here about Naviim, that fictional kingdom I throw so many ideas into, throwing worldbuilding elements into it like they’re all magnets on a fridge, rearranging them as I see fit. That’s what happens when you’re working with two or three periods in the kingdom’s history. In this case, I imagine this particular element as a sort of bridge between the two.
What I imagine is this ethereal lighthouse haunting people’s dreams, a sort of eldritch location that just shows up. It doesn’t do anything malicious (at least, not yet), but it does seem to cause people to obsess about it, desperate to find its physical manifestation even though one might not exist.
Now, astute readers might notice how in the first paragraph I introduced the lighthouse as something that “pervades my thoughts,” while later introducing the same elements into the fictional world as well. One might presume that it’s sort of memetic trap similar to, say, The Game (the one you just lost) or Roko’s Basilisk (don’t look that one up). But I don’t think so. It’s probably just me. Though that’s probably what they always say right before it starts.
In any case, because of its probable lack of, you know, corporeal-ness, it could easily withstand the apocalypse. As long as there is somebody to look for it, it exists. What happens after that? Well, I haven’t quite figured that part out yet. I just wanted to get something about it written down. I’m sure I’ll let you all know, though.
-F
It’s been a while since I’ve written here about Naviim, that fictional kingdom I throw so many ideas into, throwing worldbuilding elements into it like they’re all magnets on a fridge, rearranging them as I see fit. That’s what happens when you’re working with two or three periods in the kingdom’s history. In this case, I imagine this particular element as a sort of bridge between the two.
What I imagine is this ethereal lighthouse haunting people’s dreams, a sort of eldritch location that just shows up. It doesn’t do anything malicious (at least, not yet), but it does seem to cause people to obsess about it, desperate to find its physical manifestation even though one might not exist.
Now, astute readers might notice how in the first paragraph I introduced the lighthouse as something that “pervades my thoughts,” while later introducing the same elements into the fictional world as well. One might presume that it’s sort of memetic trap similar to, say, The Game (the one you just lost) or Roko’s Basilisk (don’t look that one up). But I don’t think so. It’s probably just me. Though that’s probably what they always say right before it starts.
In any case, because of its probable lack of, you know, corporeal-ness, it could easily withstand the apocalypse. As long as there is somebody to look for it, it exists. What happens after that? Well, I haven’t quite figured that part out yet. I just wanted to get something about it written down. I’m sure I’ll let you all know, though.
-F
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