Missy | January 20, 2003

There is something about Alexander Payne’s movies that makes me squirm in my seat. It’s not because he mocks his characters; quite the opposite–it’s that he knows them too intimately. His wry, honest humor trancends the stereotypes and picks out idiosyncracies and sympathetic characteristics in a sea of plainness. I, and the guy next to me (who, as it turns out, is from rural Nebraska), guffawed repeatedly among the middle-aged suburbanites (Bethesdans, no less) in the audience. But that hearty laughter was also born out of the poignancy of Nicholson’s Warren Schmidt. I haven’t been able to let him go since I left the theater.

Believe it or not, I know what it’s like to feel like a failure. I mean, even when life is pretty good, it’s not so much a search for meaning as it is wondering whether you’ve done what you are or wanted to be capable of, or if you’ve settled into an uninteresting & mediocre existence. Whether that’s due to depression or short-sightedness or the simple wondering of how life gets away from us remains questionable.

On the way home while feeling out of sorts, not to mention very cold, I lost a glove. I listened to the new Crooked Fingers record, which is, unsurprisingly, melancholy. I can’t believe I never noticed this before–maybe it is this particular album and its arrangements–but I got a strong whiff of Neil Diamond throughout many of the songs. Just a whiff. Not that that’s necessarily a bad thing. The lyrics to “Boy with (100) Hands” played (”Just one hand to hold you in my heart and one hand to let you go”) as the guy I kicked out of my life drove by me as I was walking up my street.

The other night I met a guy under unusual circumstances (my visiting-from-Cleveland former roommate introduced us) at the Black Cat. He’s funny and smart and we danced to the Buzzcocks….and it’s not what you think. He has a longtime girlfriend who is currently in Costa Rica, which is funny because this time last year I was in Costa Rica (and fuck if I didn’t wish I was there now, what with the 50-or-so degree temperature difference). It’s unlikely I’ll ever see him again. It’s funny how one can all but disappear in a not-that-big of a city, even within neighborhoods…and at the same time, run into the same strangers over & over again. (My “stranger”, aka “Metro Man”, the first guy I ever fell in love [lust] with in DC even though we’ve never had a conversation and who I used to see on the Metro daily, and then on the street, and at plays, but who got married–I noticed the ring–last year…..was at the Cat this weekend, too.) So who knows.

In any case, I’m not sure what it is I’m feeling, or feeling like I’m missing, and maybe it’s too much Oz on the brain and Ryan O’Reily’s saying how much he misses affection, just the touch of a hand…..but I just want to stop feeling cold.

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Missy | January 20, 2003

For the most part, there was nothing too controversial regarding the winners of the Golden Globes last night. Well, except for The Hours. Whah? Did we see the same film? And Nicole Kidman. Huh? That role and performance was all about the nose and little more. Her acceptance speech was typical of her. The woman overuses the word “brilliant” more than anyone I’ve ever seen. Also, since when is the adaptation of a popular Pulitzer prize-winning book “taking risks”? Melodramatic much, Nicole? (And I mean “melodramatic” in the colloquial sense, since the true melodramatic actress of the year–Julianne Moore–was again ignored when the awards got handed out.) Richard Gere: thank heavens for camera trickery & editing, cuz dude, you’re not a dancer. Renee Zellweger had the classiest speech, and Larry David had the funniest. I adore Cameron Diaz and her unconventional awards show-style. Rock on, sister.

Oh! When I was cleaning my place the other day, I found that pesky missing list. In a place I already looked, of course (under a piece of furniture). And a lot of good it does me now, since two of my three lists are complete, and the third has been reconstructed. I’m seeing About Schmidt today and my film list should be up by tonight. (I’ve already made it through three Oz episodes, in case you were wondering. UPDATE: I’m not sure how I feel about seeing the private parts of people who now appear on regular broadcast television, even when that includes already-designated babe Christopher Meloni.)

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Missy | January 17, 2003

Moxie has a post to which I can relate. And Mr. Lion leaves a nice comment.

I haven’t yet watched my tape of Media Matters (it aired past my bedtime) but there’s lots of chatter about it over at Megan’s.

Congratulations to Mike & Dineen!

I just spent an arm & a leg on a semi-okay orchestra seat for ABT’s Romeo & Juliet. There’s no castlist yet, but Julie typically dances in Friday performances in DC. If one of my New Years goals wasn’t to spend less & save more, I’d also splurge on this, particularly because I’ve never seen live La Bayadere, specifically the Kingdom of the Shades segment. And then this will be coming up as well, which I won’t miss. Oh, and Twelfth Night is at the Folger.

Gene & Radley were in yesterday’s WaPo, and unless you already know about it, you’ll never guess why. Also, Radley chimes in regarding boy genius Julian.

Today’s feature article at Salon is depressing. I went to a university notorious for eating disorders. Everyone (well it seemed like everyone) was beautiful and rich and smart. Talk about pressure to fit in, though luckily, I don’t recall ever falling prey to it all, which is not to say I never had self-destructive moments. I remember overhearing conversations about how few calories were consumed on a particular day, as if starvation were a contest. I’d see girls probably 20 pounds lighter than myself (and although I gained weight when I went to college, I was by no means overweight) complaining how fat they were. There were constantly long lines at the school gyms to get on the cardio equipment. And what really has stuck with me over the years is my neighbor, Robin, from my freshman year in the dorms. Robin came into college weighing 85 pounds. And even when I at first wasn’t sure what was wrong with her (she was barely over 5 feet tall, and I thought maybe she had some other type of disease), I couldn’t help but notice that at 18, she easily looked 30+ years old. She was whip-smart, on full scholarship, and many of her classes were in the 300-level, even in her first semester as a freshman. She didn’t get into a sorority, and her extreme exercise & eating habits (not to mention her dropping weight) then became apparent to everyone around us. I remember one day when I got a phone call from her, and could I get into her room to get something for her because she was in the hospital? After that conversation, I never saw her or heard from her again. I hope she got the help she needed.

I have the entire Season 2 of Oz on DVD, courtesy of Netflix. My old housemate from grad school will be in town for a visit, and luckily, it’s a holiday weekend, which means that I plan to watch every episode on Monday, back-to-back, getting up only to pee.

Woohoo! The end of day hunger pangs/low blood sugar crankiness + arctic air threatened to all but ruin my late afternoon. But, in my mailbox I found my very own Eric Bachmann-autographed, brand new Crooked Fingers album. Excuse my language, but Fucking-A. Yay! I don’t think it’s even been officially released yet. Many thanks to slatch.com for the heads-up.

Jawbox videos!

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Missy | January 15, 2003

Adaptation: Well, I think we all know (well, “we” being those who’ve seen the film or read about it) that the third act of this film has you nodding along in understanding or leaves you exceedingly irritated. I fall toward the latter end of the spectrum. I found the movie to be “taut” (to borrow Donald’s word) up to that point, and then it just became a big mess. Yeah, yeah, I got the whole tired plot devices point and how cleverly they’re inserted throughout the movie itself, and I got the “life is what happens” point (as barked out by Brian Cox’s McKee)–and really, that’s where I thought the movie was going, what with Charlie’s neurosis, and the twins/optimism v. pessimism, and Susan’s whittling down life…..really, it was all moving along splendidly, and the film sort of comes back around to those themes at the very end…um, sort of. But everything ceased being glued together (meaning “cohesive”, as opposed to “coming unglued”, which is a phrase with a meaning different that what I intend) and any parallels between Charlie and Susan fell apart when the twins went to Florida, and I was left thinking, “how could you fuck up a movie that I was really into and thinking thinking thinking about”? I mean, I was enthralled….and then I absolutely was not. Damn.

I got called for jury duty. Again. 8am, the day after a holiday weekend.

Also, this weather? Blows. Every joint hurts, and my knees threaten to give out when I climb up or down the subway stairs. Hot bath + red wine, here I come.

Yesterday I realized that “Dick Butkus” is the funniest name I’ve ever heard.

I also figured out a weird thing this morning (much like the strangeness of someone asking me state capitals to get rid of my hiccups–I swear it works every time): in the morning on the subway in my pre-coffee state when I’m feeling especially annoyed, I meditate by trying to list in my head all of the members of the Wu Tang Clan. It distracts me just long enough that I forget who it is that pissed me off and why.

UPDATE: Check out the lengthy list of light-bulb jokes over at Ted Barlow’s site. Sweet jeezus, that’s comedy gold.

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Missy | January 14, 2003

Not much in the way of commentary today. Actually, I was thinking more about my writing (well, writing in general) the other day and why I don’t like doing it. I have no patience. Writing is a process. I, on the other hand, prefer to just barf out my thoughts as they come to me. Also, the one time in undergrad when I actually spent two weeks researching & writing a paper and ended up with only a ‘B’ infuriated me, so I sank back into my old procrastinating ways of writing papers on the spot, putting them down for a couple of hours, and then cleaning them right before they were due. The truth was (and probably still is), given the choice, I’d rather spend an entire weekend working on math problems than writing an essay. (Please also note that I take work-related papers–of which I write many–a little more seriously. In case you were wondering.)

So, I’m shutting up and leaving you with links:

The PBS program “Media Matters” will be airing this week (check listings) and bloggers are featured. I did a telephone interview for them awhile back when they were in the background research phase of the project. Check out Glenn, Megan, Anil, and Oliver by viewing a teaser clip here. What’s with the bizarro “special” effects, you may be wondering. You & me both.

Also on PBS in the near future are a couple of things I’m really looking forward to….get ready for it……Great Performances: Dance in America will be featuring The Leading Men of American Ballet Theatre and Desmond Richardson as Othello in Othello with the San Francisco Ballet. He’s on the cover of the new Dance Magazine, looking awesome (can’t seem to stop using that word…what am I, 13?)

Thanks to Catherine for pointing out that Kempa has updated. Lots of B&N stories. Funny stuff.

Film critics are neither irrelevant nor snots! (I know. One’s an adjective, the other’s a noun. I know all about parallel sentence structure, and I just choose to ignore it.) UPDATE: Holy reactions, Batman!

How’s that for not writing, just linking?

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Missy | January 12, 2003

Because I’m a dumbass, and have, for example, spent no fewer than 6 hours in dance class this weekend, and have been sleeping during practically all other hours, I’m afraid I’m venturing into over-training land. It’s not a happy place. I’m exhausted, very sore, a bit irritable. Hungry like the wolf. (Don’t get me wrong, though–I like being able to eat like a horse. Wait, wolf? horse? Which is it, Missy?) Not to mention my knees and feet are all bruised. Ow. My new “goal” (if I had to specify just one) is stamina, and I never seem to take the right approach. I am not allowed to take class tomorrow. No ifs, ands, or buts. This includes lunchtime yoga.

The Iron Man competition is on NBC right now. How do they do it? How?

But, I love my modern dance workshop. Even though the class is multi-level, all her former workshop students got first dibs, and I had to sort of audition for the last spot, and I got it. The class part is based on a Graham syllabus, and the choreography is pretty exciting, and it’s going to be a lot of work. I’ll annonce performance dates later.

Other stuff:

Edward Norton is on “Inside the Actors Studio” tonight. UPDATE: What a wordy guy. But clearly intelligent. I didn’t find his discussion w/ Lipton particularly enlightening, but his Q&A with the New School students was both revealing and instructive. I totally forgot he was doing Burn This (hey Matt, remember when we saw this in college?) with Catherine Keener. Yet one more reason I wish I lived in New York, even though I know I could never afford the lifestyle (e.g. the theatre & the ballet) I’d want.

I watched my tape of Beck & The Flaming Lips on “Austin City Limits” (it aired a week late on our affiliate) and I believe the correct descriptive word is “awesome”. Spoon is on locally next Saturday.

Cursive is at the Black Cat tomorrow.

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Missy | January 11, 2003

It seems weird to think that I was at work today, because I just got home, and it’s closing in on 1 am. No, I didn’t go out binge drinking. I left work a tad bit early to see The Hours and 25th Hour back to back, and then I got a message from my good friend from Penn State, Sean, who was in town to see a band (on his friend’s record label), Retisonic (aka Bluetip’s Jason Farrell, some bass plater, and a freaking awesome drummer), who was opening for Pilot to Gunner. So I went to the Black Cat at 11, and I was rapt with (by? for?) Retisonic, and then left early.

As for the films…..with both I had exceedingly high expectations, the former because I enjoyed the book, and the latter because I’d read good reviews (even not being a fan of Spike Lee). In truth, I just don’t think The Hours makes a good movie. Good book, sure, if not merely a very clever exercise in creative writing. The only subplot I could empathize with was Laura’s, and I don’t know if that’s due to my own personal bias with Julianne Moore. I wonder if the director knew that, due to time limitations, the stories might seem erratic, so he not so coyly tied them together with visual & verbal cues (aside from the obvious Virginia Woolf connections, I mean the female kisses, and the eggs, as examples). It just didn’t work overall. While I could relate to the themes (depression & what makes being happy in the context in which we place ourselves), it ends up being too complicated for its own good.

I’m still digesting 25th Hour. There’s one thing I can assuredly say: the cast is fantastic. It’s common knowledge that Ed Norton & Philip Seymour Hoffman are more or less guaranteed top notch performers (although Hoffman–like Streep in the former movie–seemed a little too textbook with the acting & characterizations), but the true standout is Barry Pepper, whom you may remember as Roger Maris in the HBO movie 61*. The gist of the film is the last day a drug dealer has as a free man before going to prison for seven years. But, the overarching themes are guilt from fucking your life up, the things we do to “survive”, and New York. I don’t believe I’m about to use the name “Spike Lee” and the word “delicate” in the same sentence, but for the most part, I fully appreciated the delicate way he integrated post-9/11 New York into these people’s lives and into the film. Seriously, if you live in NY, have lived in NY, have visited there for any period of time, or have friends or relatives there, in the aftermath of 9/11, you know it’s continually a part of the collective conscious. But Spike, please, please, will you ever learn to edit yourself? Some scenes are too long or out of place, or stationary cameras kill the pace, and that “Fuck You” monologue towards the beginning needs some reworking (I would have reversed the ordering, to those closest to Monty and outward). This could’ve been a near perfect film–and there are some moments of brilliance–but there are obvious problems as well, like pacing and sublots that never really go anywhere.

UPDATE: Just thought I’d add that when Spike Lee gets the tone & pacing of a scene right, he really gets it right. In hindsight, my words here make it sound like the film isn’t worthwhile, when in fact it is. And the brilliant moments I spoke of earlier have stuck with me, and things are falling into place…so I may have come across as overly gripe-y.

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Missy | January 10, 2003

I know it’s old hat or bad form or something to link to Lileks repeatedly, because everyone knows he’s a great writer, and everyone reads him already. So I just keep him quietly in my sidebar. Still, I really liked today’s installment, featuring some thoughts on Martin Scorcese, filmmaker turned foreign policy expert. (Relax, people. I know Marty’s got every right to say what he thinks. Humor me, okay?) Also, reason #714 why I love Lileks: his & my shared use of hyperbolic numbers to be funny (maybe) while getting a point across.

…..

I love my neighborhood, and can’t imagine living anywhere else in the greater DC area (expect for maybe Capitol Hill, but for the purpose of this post, there’s no difference). The prospect of buying a condo (especially on a single person’s income–even when said income is pretty decent and stable) is gloomy. The City Paper’s feature story this week discusses this very subject. Note especially the right-side “Tax Heaven” box.

UPDATE: Well, assuming it’s not already full, I registered for the repertory workshop. And if I’m super motivated, I’ll take Miya’s (challenging) ballet class that meets right before.

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Missy | January 9, 2003

Okay kids. I think I’ve got my 2002 Best Of List for Records (’scuse me, CDs), even though I’ve got a nagging feeling that I’m leaving something out (probably has something to do with that lost list).

1. Notwist, Neon Golden. Even though Noel Murray and Pitchfork have noted that this record has heretofore only been available through import and is scheduled for domestic release next month, I’m putting it on my 2002 list rather than the 2003 list (hey, Pitchfork did it, so I can too). The record is such an interesting combination of of styles and sounds…and even when the guitar or drums or lyrics are simplistic, there’s a wonderful, almost dreamy texture to the songs. It’s a mix of airy vocals, and blipping & bleeping, and guitar, with some dancy beats thrown in. (Thank you Jeff Rudolf for giving me the heads up on this band.)

2. Flaming Lips, Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots. Almost a tie for #1, for many of the same reasons I liked the Notwist record. This record is imaginative, expansive, lyrically effusive…and I cannot freaking stop listening to it or singing the songs to myself or out loud walking down the street. I feel like it’s a collection of anthems for my year 2002.

3. The Roots, Phrenology. It’s not as rigorous a record as Things Fall Apart, but damn if it’s not the most infectious record I’ve heard this year. The way these guys incorporate soul, R&B, hip-hop, and rock was unmatched by anyone else this year.

4. Wilco, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. Am I wrong in saying that every track on this record is a single? It’s chock full of great-song goodness. And Jeff Tweedy’s lyrics are at once weird and heartfelt. And the accompanying film I Am Trying to Break Your Heart, documenting the band’s struggles with handing a completed album to their label only to get unceremoniously and inexplicably dropped is a music industry story for the ages….even though everybody knows this is a quality band, and as it turned out, this is a great fucking record.

5. Interpol, Turn on the Bright Lights. Oh, to be an angst-ridden misunderstood teenage goth wannabe all over again. Well, here was our chance, and It Was Good. I think indie-rockers and mainstreamers alike have been eating up the music gimimicks of the past few years (see also: garage rock), and this one manages to work, at least for now. Even though their live show left a lot to be desired in the excitement department, I found this to be one of the more exciting records of the year.

6. Beck, Sea Change. Oh Goofball Beck of days gone by, where art thou? You know what, who cares, because this languid, melancholic Beck is far more interesting and mature (which is not to say I never went gaga over his previous records.) Call up whatever references you choose: Nick Drake, Gordon Lightfoot, 1980’s Pink Floyd, etc…it’s all in there in a dreamy little hodgepodge of excellent songwriting. (I know that’s the second time I’ve used ‘dreamy’ in this post.)

7. Spoon, Kill the Moonlight. Rock. Melody. This band understands both. Sometimes I wonder if I’m hearing Elvis Costello on this record instead of Britt Daniels, but please, a band could have far worse comparisons.

8. Blackalicious, Blazing Arrow. Ah, hip hop. I feel it consuming me this year, and that all started when I first laid ears on this record…..smooth, quick, fun: a return to the elements that first attracted me to hip-hop a decade ago.

9. The Streets, Original Pirate Material. Oi. I have to say, I only picked this up recently, and the first time I heard it I wasn’t sure what to make of it. Is this rap? The dude sounds like some kind of working class skin talking over beats. I’m amused and charmed, and it’s like nothing else I’ve ever heard, and I can’t seem to get enough of it. So for those reasons, it makes my list.

10. Welllllll……frankly, I have a hard time finding a last place entry that I consider list-worthy. That said, I’ve got a whole slew of honorable mentions:

Tom Waits, Alice and Blood Money
The Walkmen, Everyone Who Pretended to Like Me is Gone (love that toy-piano sorry, meant “old, slightly out-of-tune piano” sound; UPDATE: Just saw a Saturn commercial using “We’ve Been Had”; the world may be going to hell in a handbasket)
DJ Shadow, Private Press
Nas, God’s Son
Neko Case, Blacklisted (who doesn’t love that beautiful crooning voice)
Hot Hot Heat, Make Up the Breakdown
Missy Elliott, Under Construction
Lambchop, Is a Woman
Jurassic 5, Power in Numbers
Doug Martsch, Now You Know

BEST CONCERT: (Tie) The Death & Dismemberment Tour, and Doug Martsch

BEST SINGLES: “6 Days”, DJ Shadow; “Work It”, Missy Elliott; “Hate to Say I Told You So”, The Hives; “Can’t Get You Out of My Head”, Kylie Minogue; “Lose Yourself”, Eminem

The “I DON’T GET IT” Award: Queens of the Stone Age

The “EH” Award (aka Call Me Unimpressed): ..And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead, Source Tags & Codes; Sonic Youth, Murray Street; Sigur Ros, ()

BEST VIDEO: The Wong Kar Wai directed “6 Days”, DJ Shadow

MOST WELCOME: The resurgence of smart and fun and quality hip-hop. And similarly…..

RECORD LABEL: Definitive Jux, home of El-P, Cannibal Ox, Mr. Lif, and Aesop Rock

And now for something totally unrelated….. I’m thinking about joining a modern dance repertory project, which–unlike an actual company and like taking regular old class–I have to pay for. But, the teacher (who is excellent) choreographs a piece on the group, from start to finish, and then it’s performed for friends & family and whomever. It’s a ten week thing, and will tie up my Saturdays until mid-March, but I think it’d be a good thing for me, even if I’d be dancing with people of various levels of talent. I can’t decide, but I’ve got two days to make up my mind.

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Missy | January 6, 2003

I think I’m going to do this in installments. I can knock off my Television Best Of List right now, while I’m still giving a few (newly bought) albums a fighting chance, plus catching up on late movie releases.

BEST SHOW: (Tie) Buffy the Vampire Slayer, The Sopranos, both of which feature the best writing on television

BEST ACTOR: James Gandolfini (Drama); Matt LeBlanc (Comedy)

BEST ACTRESS: Edie Falco (Drama); Debra Messing (Comedy), even though Will & Grace is rapidly losing whatever funniness it ever had in the first place

The “I’M SLOWLY COMING AROUND” Award: Curb Your Enthusiasm; The Shield; Scrubs

The “I DON’T GET IT” Award: Reality television (especially those that involve some sort of competition); and at the risk of my comments section being filled up with contrary explanations and passionate pleas for a second chance, Alias

BIGGEST DISAPPOINTMENT: Boomtown

GUILTY PLEASURE: John Doe, Trading Spaces

FUNNIEST MOMENT: (Tie, and I’m sure there are others that I’ve forgotten about) The simple site gag that was a total accident: when Ozzy Osbourne sat in a chair and promptly fell backwards, only to have the cameraman catch it on film, The Osbournes; the interaction between Larry David and Krazee-Eyez Killa : “Are you my Caucasian?”, Curb Your Enthusiasm

TOTAL BABE Award: MALES: Donnie Wahlberg, Boomtown; Christopher Meloni, Law & Order: SVU; Jimmy Fallon Saturday Night Live; FEMALES: Marg Helgenberger, CSI; Stephanie March, Law & Order: SVU; Jennifer Aniston, Friends

COOLEST CHARACTER: Vincent D’Onofrio as Detective Robert Goren, Law & Order: Criminal Intent

The “I DIDN’T SEE IT BUT I BET I WOULD LOVE IT” Award: HBO’s The Wire

The “REASONS I’M LOOKING FORWARD TO 2003″ Award: Oz Season 2 DVD release (tomorrow!); Kingpin

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Missy | January 4, 2003

Best. Game. Ever. Can you believe that game? Seriously, who could conceive of such a heart attack-inducing game? Stetson’s was freaking packed, and 99% of the crowd were Buckeye fans. Unfortunately, neither I nor my companions had our digital cameras with us, because we had a great vantage point (I got the very last available table, up at the front) of the entire bar roaring and leaping to its feet on every OSU score. And then there were the super drunk superfans upstairs dancing around to the OSU fight song and “Hang On Sloopy”. So much fun. Today I am hungover and can barely talk, so I’m laying low and recovering.

UPDATE: I know this is totally late, what with it being 10:20 pm and all, but this is a friendly reminder that Beck (backed by the Flaming Lips) is on Austin City Limits tonight. Check it. Also, Spoon & Ben Kweller are next week.

Also, Blogorama III, organized by those Cato cats, is February 6.

Also, I know my sidebar links are out of date. An update is on my to-do list, which is written in my notebook.

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