Missy | September 28, 2003

K Street wasn’t so bad tonight. If I was still a part of the dating scene, I would remember the tactic used by Maggie’s ex, which is to send a suited male friend to her office telling her to stop calling, “or else”. I’m still trying to figure out how such an inarticulate woman (Maggie) gets to be in the position she’s in (with work, I mean), but that’s just me. This week’s noticed locale: the Red Sage bar. (Aside: the food at Red Sage is not so great.) And Tommy picking up a “date”!? DC doesn’t have prostitutes! (I’m kidding.) UPDATE: greg.org makes great points. The show just isn’t as smart as it could be.

Now watching: Scorsese’s The Blues, which is thankfully airing twice in a row on WETA.

UPDATE: Elia Kazan has passed away. As Josh told me on IM tonight, “Now’s the time to write that play.” See, once I had an awful (awful as in stupid) musing to write a play about Kazan. My conceptual inspiration, actually, came from the play Copenhagen, which is about a dramatized conversation rooted in real events. Please, no comments. I am not a playwright and most of my ideas are harebrained.

UPDATE#2: So I’m hearing this new Jack Black film (directed by Richard Linklater) is right up my alley. A rock & roll version of The Bad News Bears. Frankly, Black wore out his welcome long ago; I’m not a big fan of schticks.

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Missy | September 26, 2003

Today I went CD shopping and somehow managed to not buy the new Outkast. What is it with the disconnect between brains and intended purchases when one walks into a music store? I did, however, pick up the newest Nada Surf, My Morning Jacket, and Postal Service. (I haven’t been CD shopping in awhile. I tend to do it in bulk a few times a year anyway.)

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Missy | September 26, 2003

Holy crap Phoebe was funny on Friends last night. When she screeched out “CHANDLER!” I nearly peed.

So you may recall awhile back I hemmed and hawed about whether or not I wanted to see the film Irreversible. I finally watched it a couple of days ago. The opening segment at the club is, for my money, perhaps the most effective use of all the elements of filmmaking that I’ve seen on screen this year. Too bad the movie starts to unravel after that, though I should add that I didn’t find the film to be as exploitative as the film’s opponents argue, which is funny coming from the mouth (fingers, whatever) of a girl who has a weak stomach and faint heart and short tolerance for the horror genre in general. Anyway. I’m still putting my head together this morning, so maybe I’ll update this later.

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Missy | September 22, 2003

I watched only half of K Street last night because I wanted to get to bed, but more importantly, I was bored. I find Mary McCormack terribly irritating, first of all. And second, for a show that appeals to the interests of a small segment of the public (Washingtonians, politico geekery) I thought the show lacked rigor. I don’t mind the talkiness; if there’s one thing that’s true it’s that people in Washington love to hear themselves talk. I mean that the handling of the material (the RIAA) was so dull because we’ve already read about it and talked about it and in some cases written about it. Maybe the last 15 minutes picked up. Somebody tell me the last 15 minutes picked up.

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Missy | September 19, 2003

Demonlover: a film that alternates between the visually cold and dizzying, about corporate espionage until it delves into internet pr0n, at which point I completely lost track of what was happening. Connie Nielsen is gorgeous (I want her wardrobe) and the Sonic Youth score is hypnotic. There’s also a scene with Chlo

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Missy | September 19, 2003

From today’s WaPo (because I actually have time to read entire articles today): The steel tariff backfires. Ya don’t say? File that one in the Big Fat Duh files. Also: Michael Kinsley writes a humorous editorial on the “glamour” of lobbies.

And finally, thanks to Jane Galt for this pointed (really!) cover of this week’s The Economist.

UPDATE:
In case you want an idea of some of the Toronto Film Festival favorites, Scott has posted a round-up of ratings from festival-goers. (Note: I saw only 5 of the films, two in Toronto and three outside the festival.)

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Missy | September 17, 2003

Holy crap. I happened upon the local news and the federal government is already shut down tomorrow in anticipation of the hurricane. And Metro will be shutting down in the morning (so people don’t blow in front of buses or onto train tracks–I’m totally serious).

UPDATE: No major damage around me. Water & power are a-okay, and people are taking to the streets again. But, I am tired! I could not sleep thanks to the wind, and more specifically, the wind tunnel in the hallway caused my my annoying neighbor (the one who thinks my name is Nicole) who never closes her windows (I closed mine completely when I went to bed, but in the other hours it’s been great in airing out my apartment). My door rattled in its frame all night. I’m going back to bed.

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Missy | September 16, 2003

I’m sorry to John Kennedy Toole fans, but I’m afraid I’m putting down A Confederacy of Dunces because I have in my hands the brand new Jonathan Lethem book. I want to go home and read it right now.

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Missy | September 14, 2003

My original intention was to write a post around films that I didn’t actually see, based on the things I overheard at the festival (see, I was going to sound all authoritative, make it sound like I saw countless films in 48 hours, and then psyche you out at the end), but then I realized that my memory is not so keen and I quickly started mixing up films & conversations. So I gave up on that potentially funny but ultimately dumb idea. Moving on….

I saw only two feature length films and one short by acquaintance Skander Halim. Skander’s The Guest Room was funny & assured, with a kick-ass Sparklehorse soundtrack and a Ron Livingston-esque lead character. Josh and I tried to slip out afterward (the film was the first in a series of shorts) and it being dark & us being on the aisle, we thought we’d make a getaway…..until Josh proceeded to drop his bad and dump its contents onto the floor. I stood at the back stifling giggles. I didn’t see Zatoichi as planned, since acquiring tickets was impossible (and Josh even went so far as to try the route of talking to the publicist). Josh accompanied me to his third screening of festival fave The Five Obstructions, a dense piece about an exercise in the filmmaking process by Lars Von Trier and J

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Missy | September 14, 2003

Back from the tail end of the Toronto Film Festival. I’m working on about 7 hours of sleep for the entire weekend so I’ve got some catching up to do before I can even think of stringing words together in a coherent manner. I did want to add that history was made, in that I was actually wild for a Lars Von Trier film, and that film ain’t Dogville. [Note to CMs: I loved meeting each of you. You'll see more of me next year.] Look for my hopefully funny perspective later, along with a picture or two…..

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Missy | September 11, 2003

Voices.

“Commerce breeds familiarity, and familiarity breeds friendship.” Radley writes on connections between impoverished, closed countries and terrorism.

I was at this Fugazi show. It was an energy and a sight to behold.

WaPo rightly (and finally) profiles my favorite DC dancer, the Washington Ballet’s Jason Hartley. He’s at the Millenium Stage at the Kennedy Center tonight & tomorrow.

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Missy | September 9, 2003

Last night on my way home from yoga, I bumped into my friend Carla, whom I met in acting class last summer (she is super talented & is breezing through the program–she’s starting a Shakespeare class next week) and who is in my Sunday morning modern dance class. She was coming out of a ballet class, and she said that she couldn’t sleep the night before because she kept replaying the newest combination we learned on Sunday in her head. It’s counted it fives (instead of eights). Before we knew it, we were dancing through the combination right there on 19th & R.

I caught the last 45 minutes of The Center of the World on PBS last night. Gosh, it was good. (UPDATE: Jeff Jarvis thinks otherwise. Apparently I was not listening closely because I didn’t hear any digs at Americanism. Then again, I tuned in at just after the 2:15 mark, and what I saw was mostly a series of recollections & continued disbeliefs. That seems pretty normal to me. Then again, from what I’m reading, I wonder if I would have been irritated had I seen more of the program.) When it was over, there was a preview for my favorite documentary from last year, Daughter from Danang. It’s airing Monday, but check your local listings.

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Missy | September 8, 2003

Sex and the City:
I don’t know what happened because I CANNOT GET OVER CARRIE CONSTANTLY WEARING BRAS WITH BACKLESS DRESSES.

Here’s another thing that’s bothering me today. That stupid Lizzie Maguire girl. I spend too much time in the morning watching VH1 & MTV (the alternative being morning news, which gives me bigger fits–I’m thinking I should maybe leave the tv off and play some soothing new age music. Or punk rock.) I figured out what it was about her video for that insipid song that I find so grating. For being 16 or however old she is, she is trying to look like (or more accurately, her stylist is trying to make her look like) Carrie Bradshaw. You know, all couture yet sort of edgy. But against the backdrop of her immature writing & singing, it’s enough to make a person punch their television. At least Mandy Moore wasn’t pretending anything when she made that video for the sugary “Candy”. And her song is catchy as hell. (Can you tell lately I’m kinda having fun championing Mandy Moore?) Anyway, further along the Bothersome Trail we have Liz Phair, whose latest song I’ve decided is not too unlike Lizzie’s. Seriously. When you hear them back to back like I did, you’ll know what I mean.

Also, I sort of snapped at a woman on the Metro this morning. I was hanging onto a bar with one hand while holding my newspaper & iPod in the other hand (basically I was stuck in one position unless I dared falling with the lurch of the train). A woman was trying to get out of her seat & towards the door before the train stopped. I saw her move to get up. I heard her through my headphones say, “Excuse me” twice. I turned & said, “Wait til the train stops.” What I should have said was, “Relax, you’re going to get off the train. Unless you want a three-inch heel accidentally dug into your foot when I let go of this bar before the train stops.”

HELLLOOOOO MONDAY!

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Missy | September 6, 2003

Drive-bys on some things I saw this weekend:

American Splendor: Part live-action comic, part documentary about comic book writer Harvey Pekar. The film is so full of expression I was practically beside myself, mostly because the filmmakers were able to get beneath the doom & gloom exterior, and the result is delicate and often hilarious without being at Harvey’s expense. Let’s hope we’re seeing Paul Giamatti’s name come awards time. (One of my favorite moments–a throwaway moment really–was watching Paul chuckle from the side of the frame while observing the interaction between the real life Harvey & Toby.) UPDATE: Harvey Pekar is interviewed in The Onion. And Pekar has a weblog here.

Topdog/Underdog: the play by Pulitzer-winner Suzan-Lori Parks that, for a time, I couldn’t shut up about (it ran on Broadway and more recently in London with Jeffrey Wright & Mos Def). The story is of African-American lower class sibling rivalry (centered around three-card monte) between two brothers who were jokingly named Lincoln and Booth. There’s an inherent cadence to the dialogue and the work itself. Parks has a self-admitted fascination (obsession?) with Abraham Lincoln, stating that all of American history since his assassination essentially works its way through that bullet hole. It’s hard to imagine how that fits into the play itself, and frankly, I’m still not sure. Still, it allows an element of fate to come into play, and while a pivotal plot turn left me somewhat dissatisfied, the conclusion nevertheless felt like someone threw a brick at my head (that’s a good thing). The actors in this production (who’ve collaborated in the past and are no doubt good friends) developed their own dance-like rapport on stage, and I don’t feel slighted that I didn’t get the chance to see the original New York production. UPDATE: WaPo’s review.

UPDATE: Hey, did I mention thet Josh emailed me his Toronto schedule and (although I expected this, you all might get a kick out of it) he’s got over 40 films on his to-see list before I get there on Friday? 40. Four-Zero. Meanwhile, Mike is keeping up with posting about what he’s seeing each day. UPDATE: Victor, too.

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Missy | September 4, 2003

From the Gawker Stalker files, regarding a Steven Soderbergh-Jules Asner sighting:

Their relationship finally makes sense to me, it appears she takes care of him. He’s a little tiny fellow, and had his nose in a book the whole time while she took calls, got him coffee, etc.

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