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American
Virgin Have to see Shaft soon, my friend Liz is in it. Now is a good time to slip this into this page. I wrote it last year sometime. It's not great, but it's good. It's tedstrong.com's review of that piece of crap The Haunting. Sunday, June 25, I saw two movies. The first was at 11am at the Roxie. A special showing of Pretzel Logic, starring Matthew Morse Butler. It was pretty good. Pretty funny. I was thinking "what if it's awful and I have to pretend to my friend Matthew that it wasn't," but it was really good! Nice work fellas! Very funny. I saw this movie (in a packed theatre) with some of the old gang: Jenny, Zev, Amy, C. "Cubbify" Scott, Matthew himself!, and Allison, or is it with one l: Alison? Everyone else that I saw it with (some friends of Matthew's that I had only met the night before) I forgot their names (I apologize), except for Nikki; I remembered her name. And then Jenny, Zev, Amy and Cubbify and I went across the street for a little lunch. Spanish "tapas" they are called, at Le Coutiz. Next, I saw the 4:15 showing of the three hour personal epic, Sunshine, starring Ralph Fiennes, Rosemary Harris, John Neville, William Hurt, Deborah Kara Unger. It was pretty good. I have always been a huge Ralph Fiennes fan. He was extremely great, and extremely different in Schindler's List and Quiz Show, back-to-back. Then he did Strange Days, which was a disappointment, but he was again good. And then he was very good in The English Patient, but the female leads of that film sort of stole it. Then I missed Oscar & Lucinda and Onegin. On cable, I finally did see the much-maligned Avengers. It was pretty bad. Terribly miscast. I'm afraid to say this, but I think Uma Thurman is a bad actor, and I think she's just getting worse, yet more pretentious. Oh well. Sunshine was at the Bridge and I had popcorn and a small Coke and it was a pretty crowded showing. The movie was long, but engrossing. All about this grandfather, father and son (all played by Ralph) dealing with being Jewish in Hungary at the turn of the last century through the 50s. At the end of the film he embraces his Jewishness. All along he tried to deny it; converting to Catholicism, changing his name, etc. If you're really religious you might like the movie more than me, but as I believe that Christianity, Judaism, etc are all bunk, it just sort of annoys. Remember: religion is bad, dangerous, myth, causing war, strife, death and decay for centuries. The true religion is the religion of the individual. You are your own god. There is no fate. Fate and destiny are for suckers. You control your life. Love... tedstrong.com. Also of note, Jennifer Ehle plays Valerie Sors/Sonnenschein as a young woman, and her mother, Rosemary Harris plays her as an older woman. At first, I thought that it was just Jennifer Ehle again, with really good make-up. And then slowly it started to dawn on me that it was a different woman. Who else could that really be, but her real-life mother? Monday I saw Shaft at the Galaxy Pit of Despair Theatre on Van Ness. I parked my motorcycle at 2 on a street where they start towing at 4, so I wanted to make sure that the movie was going to let me out in time, so I bought the ticket and asked the guy how long the movie was. I should point out he was a little bit stupid. He said two hours. As it turns out he was rounding up from 1:45. So I moved my bike because the movie might start up to ten minutes late and I didn't want to take a chance. Didn't need to as it turned out. I mean, what was that a wild guess? I could have done that. How long is the movie? The correct answer being one hour and forty-five minutes: "2 hours." Anyway first there were previews for what look to be the worst films of the summer. Scary Movie by the Wayans family, a distressing spoof of the recent horror hits, plus The Matrix and anything else they can think of. The Kings of Comedy a filmed standup act of four comedians including Steve Harvey of the WB's The Steve Harvey Show and DL Hughely of the WB's The Hughelys. Directed by Spike Lee. Whatever that means. Sample comedy: "Okay, you all see the Titanic movie? Yeah, we all saw that. The band plays as the ship go down. Who you all ever know a Black band to play while the ship going down? Like Cool and the Gang be outta there!" And some movie with "Academy Award Winner Kim Basinger" about this little kid who has special powers and then she is kidnapped by either the government, or some religious cult and it's up to Kim Basinger and Jimmy Smits to get her back. But the true worst film of the summer has to be the Margaret Cho filmed standup comedy act. I have seen the preview for this at least 5 times. It's cuts of Margaret saying "funny" stuff interspersed with audience members, in the lobby, after the show saying how funny it was: "Funny-assed -- that's the best way to describe it! Funny-assed!" "It's a stitch, she's a stitch." "She tackles a lot of taboo topics and does it with humor." "Bring diapers, I laughed so much!" Jesus Christ. Every once in a while I think about giving up movies entirely. There is nothing new. And yeah, every once in a while a good movie comes out. But I get tired of all the pandering, and the dumbing down, and all the crap. And there's always a little of it, even in the best movies. And what if I just get rid of my TV? All those bullshit "news" stories: Elian? Princess Diana? What the fuck? Who Wants to Be a Millionaire's rerun episodes are breaking Nielsen records. The rerun episodes. Thursday night I walked down to the Lumiere and saw Catfish in Black Bean Sauce. These two Vietnamese children were adopted by African-American parents when they were about 5 and 11. The children are now in their late 20s/early 30s. Now, the birth mother has gotten out of the country and it causes some problems. I like this film. It was a comedy. It wasn't that funny, but it was sweet. It wasn't too sappy. I was mainly happy that the film suggests that people with different skin color, and whose ancestors came from different cultures and different places geographically, can actually maintain strong, loving relationships with each other. In this world of Eriq LaSalle and Spike Lee and Southern Conservatives you maybe wouldn't think that possible. The cast was very good, particularly Mary Alice, and old pro Paul Winfield. Saturday I rode my Triumph over to the Roxie to see La Nouvelle Eve. Eight dollars, 4:15 show, $1.75 for popcorn. It was a French film. It was pretty good. About this very selfish woman who lives a very sort of self-destructive life. It's not a tragedy or anything. It was interesting, because she was pretty unlikable. She falls in love with this married man and well, stuff happens. It plays at the Roxie all week. The star was Karin Viard. I didn't think I knew her when I went to see the film, but as it turns out, I saw her, in Paris, in La Parenthèse enchantée (2000); Diary of a Seducer (1996) with the delicious Chiarra Mastroianni (daughter of Marcello and Catherine Denueve!); The Separation (1994) with Isabelle Huppert; she's also been in La Haine/Hate (1995), Delicatessen (1991), Tatie Danielle (1990) and the upcoming Les Enfants du siècle with Juliette Binoche! I feel the need to point out some technical information now. In France, they only capitalize the first letter of the first word of a title, unless the title is Les or Un or something. And sometimes I leave it that way and sometimes I Americanize it. I know I'm not consistent, but I wanted to point that out. Monday (July 10) I walked down to the awful San Francisco movie theater, UA Galaxy. I, and three other lone gentlemen, saw the 1:30 showing of Me, Myself & Irene. One guy was tall, thin, balding, wore a beard and sandals. The guy in front of me two rows kept mumbling and sighing. He had a bald man's comb over hairstyle. Halfway through the movie, the third, a fat, bearded man got up, came over to me, touched me, and asked if a particular scene had taken place yet, as he had fallen asleep, and hoped not to have missed it. You're always going to run into freaks seeing a movie matinee during the week. Don't these people have jobs? The film was a letdown. Not very many laughs, I got bored, and just kept waiting for it to end. Not nearly as good as There's Something About Mary and Kingpin. But first of course, were some more Coca-Cola stills, quizzes, and other drivel; ads for local businesses -- cheap, tacky, lopsided. I actually had to cover my eyes with my hands, like a visor. R&B piped into the sound system. Then some commercials, including the one where Einstein has to choose between Coke and Pepsi. The one for the VW Cabrio -- which I actually like. The four young people driving through the night, with the full moon and stars and that neat song playing, then they get to the house party, it looks like every other house party, they look at each other and decide to just keep driving through the warm summer night. Then some commercials for new fall TV shows on USA and stuff. Sunday, the July 9, I rode down to the Embarcadero and saw Jesus' Son, with Billy Crudup, Samantha Morton, Jack Black, Will Patton, Denis Leary, Dennis Hopper, and Holly Hunter. I thought it was pretty good. A bit of trouble deciding how to end it though. Some very funny parts. A slightly unbalanced fellow who becomes addicted to heroin with his girlfriend, and his trials and tribulations trying to get off it. Jack Black was very good; very funny. Samantha Morton does a comic -- yet extrememly sexy -- dance to a song called "Sweet Pea" by Tommy Roe. A portion of it was used in the trailer. It is one of the best screen moments this year. Crudup's expressions are pretty funny during the scene also. I got some popcorn and a bottle of water at the theatre. The Embarcadero puts some sort of horrid flavoring into their popcorn, which I had to stop eating half way through the bag. It leaves a bad aftertaste, which a lot of salt couldn't get rid of. Very disappointing. A long time ago, the Embarcadero's popcorn was good, but it hasn't been for about a year. Other things that I ate on this Sunday include: a glass of orange juice, a hamburger (no cheese!), some salted in the shell peanuts, cinnamon graham crackers, milk chocolate. I will likely have some raisin bran later this evening. Saturday, the 8th of July, I rode over to the Roxie and saw Buñuel's classic satire, The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie. I did not think it was very good at all. It was a comedy with no laughs. The actors seemed like they were lost -- like they didn't get it. Michel Piccoli comes in for a pointless cameo; all he does is talk on the phone for a minute. Buñuel's disdain for the rich/bourgeoisie is obvious, but that's all. What Buñuel doesn't realize is that his fan base is made up of the pseudo-intellectual bourgeoisie he so evidently disapproves of. For those keeping track, the best films of 2000, so far, have been: Winter Sleepers, Scream 3, Wonder Boys, Ninth Gate, Time Code, High Fidelity, Croupier, Final Destination, Ghost Dog. Monday, the 3rd of July, I rode over to Cinema 21 on Chestnut to see The Perfect Storm. A real letdown after Out of Sight and Three Kings from Clooney. The Perfect Storm was routine and pointless. Look out, here comes another wave! I don't get it. Like we're supposed to love and respect these dumb fishermen from New England, because without them, we wouldn't be able to put cod on our kitchen table? Like, first of all, they were warned a million times about the storm, and they're like: we're FISHERMEN, we can handle anything! Disappointment. Saturday, July 15, I rode over to the Castro to see Time Regained, a French film about Marcel Proust. It was... interesting. Long at two hours, forty minutes. It was very... um... esoteric? Lots of various scenes from Proust's life. Emmanuelle Beart (Mission Impossible), Catherine Deneuve, John Malkovich, and Chiarra Mastroianni (Marcello's daughter with Deneuve) star. At the end it was just sort of making a statement about the personalization of the life experience -- or something. The reviews have been very mixed, but they all seem to agree that the film is a bit loopy and maddening, almost. On the lighter side, I had popcorn and a medium coke, which spilt as soon as I set it down. Coke ran down the cinema floor. You could hear it cascading like a quiet brook in the summertime. I then went and got a small Coke, which did not spill. Crowded theatre. It shows for a week. Special engagement. Friday night (July 14) I walked down to the see the 9:50pm show of the rerelease of the Coen Bros' Blood Simple (1984) at the Lumiere. It was good. I hadn't seen it in about 10-12 years. I rented it with Pete and Tim and maybe Bud and I think Joanna and Steve and I all watched it up in the big TV room at my parents' house. But I didn't remember much of it. Modern day noir set in Texas. M. Emmet Walsh, Dan Hedaya, Frances McDormand, John Getz, Samm-Art Williams and Holly Hunter (voice only). Hedaya hires private investigator Walsh to kill his cheating wife (McDormand) and her new man. But, when blood is involved, nothing is simple. Dot, dot, dot. Theatre was crowded, I got popcorn and a Coke, two doorknobs sat behind me talking like they were some sort of film intellectuals, and breathing heavily throughout the movie. One guy had one of the most irritating laughs -- of all time. It was good, but a bit of a trifle compared to Fargo, or the best Coen Brothers film, Miller's Crossing (1990), which the Lumiere was showing next at midnight. I was going to stay when I was informed that it was not a double feature and that I would need to buy another ticket. Thing is, I just watched Miller's Crossing again about a month ago, plus it was late, and I like to leave some time at night for me to lay in bed and think about why I am alone. So I left. I wouldn't have minded paying extra to keep the Lumiere running though. No chance in muth-fuk'n hell I'd pay extra at the Devil's Triumvirate* or the Galaxy Pit of Despair. *AMC 1000 Van Ness, Sony Metreon, AMC Kabuki. I have dubbed these three theatres as the Devil's Triumvirate due to the fact that a lot of times a new movie will open at just those three theatres. And those are the worst theatres in SF. Thursday afternoon (July 13): I just saw But I'm a Cheerleader at the Lumiere. The popcorn girl was real excited to see me. I think she remembered me from last time (I'm very good looking). Anyway, I got some popcorn. A rare occasion when it wasn't very good. It may have been yesterday's. It was the first showing. The movie was a satire about those schools you can go to if you're gay but don't want to be, because God or your parents or whatever is against it. It was okay. Kind of funny. Actually, better than I thought, because I heard some negative reviews. A couple of nice make-out scenes between Natasha Lyonne and Clea DuVall. The film also stars Cathy Moriarty, Bud Cort, Mink Stole, RuPaul Charles, Eddie Cibrian, Julie Delpy, Michelle Williams, Richard Moll, and Katharine Towne. Also, Robert Pine plays Clea DuVall's father. Me and Robert Pine go way back. Friday, July 21, I rode over to Orinda to the Orinda Theatre to see What Lies Beneath with my old buddy Pete. To quote Rog (pronounced "rodge") Ebert, "The trailer of this movie thoroughly demolishes the surprises; if you've seen the trailer, you know what the movie is about, and all of the suspense of the first hour is superfluous for you, including major character revelations. Don't directors get annoyed when they create suspense and the marketing sabotages their efforts?" It's interesting to note that in the 80s my favorite actress and actor were Michelle Pfeiffer and Harrison Ford. But then came years and years of dull, boring, lame films from each. Ford made the same film 6 times in a row (Presumed Innocent, Patriot Games, The Fugitive, Clear and Present Danger, The Devil's Own, Air Force One -- think: "I want my family back!") and a couple awful comedies and awful romance dramas (Sabrina, Six Days Seven Nights, Regarding Henry, Random Hearts as a character named "Dutch"). Michelle gave us pointless romance drama and even worse romantic comedy, one after the other, until I just stopped seeing them: The Story of Us, A Midsummer Night's Dream, The Deep End of the Ocean, A Thousand Acres, One Fine Day, To Gillian on Her 37th Birthday, Up Close & Personal; and drivel like Dangerous Minds (which is to be despised -- if for nothing else -- for spawning the evil TV show with Annie Potts!), Batman Returns, and that Devil's child: Frankie and Johnny. I can't really say too much about What Lies Beneath, because I don't want to kill anybody's suspense. It's not bad and better than most of the other summer fare out there. I wanted to see it for Amber Valletta but she is relegated to appearing in a few photos and morphs with Michelle and ghost poses. On the night of Thursday, July 20, I rode over to the Metro on Union St. to see The X-Men. I wasn't really expecting to like it, but I did. It was just what it was, a comic book scifi bit of action, but some good characterizations and effects. It moved along quickly and had a good cast, including four beautiful women: Famke Janssen, Halle Berry, Anna Paquin, Rebecca Romijn... Stamos (I don't believe it either), Patrick Stewart, Ian McKellen, Hugh Jackman, James Marsden and Bruce Davison. But before the movie started there was a bunch of crap, commercials and ads for coke and crippled kids and what not. Oh, and I don't know... maybe... a brand new McDonald's commercial -- in the theatre, on the big screen! I didn't know what it was at first. I'd been seeing a bunch of lame We Love To See You Smile TV commercials but hadn't seen Anne's yet. But I didn't know what it was at first, because they had just shown an ad for an upcoming USA TV Movie about giant cockroaches with Thomas Calabro from Melrose Place. And I was like "that girl on the phone looks like Anne Stedman, tedstrong.com Person of the Week." Then I was like, "Is that Anne?" And then I knew it was Anne. She was really great! You'll have to see it. A very good actress. She really seemed like 16. I felt a little guilty for all the sexual feelings I was having for a second. But that only lasted a second. When The Piano came out, I didn't care for it, and was a bit shocked that Anna Paquin should win an Oscar for playing that annoying little girl, but she has grown on me. She'll be 18 on Monday. Since The Piano she's done She's All That, A Walk on the Moon, Amistad, Fly Away Home, Jane Eyre and, most impressively, Hurlyburly. On Friday, July 21, the examiner ran a story on the closing of the Coronet on Geary. It was the biggest of the remaining single screen theatres in the city. I saw Scream 3 there with Benita and then saw it again there with my mom (I've made her a fan of the series). And I saw Romeo Must Die there with Randall. The wrecking ball swings this summer. I moved to San Francisco on February 10, 1998. Shortly before I got here, both the Alhambra and the other one (I forgot the name for now) on Polk had closed. Then the Regency I closed and then the Regency II closed (this year I think). The Sony Metreon and AMC 1000 Van Ness opened. I hate and despise both of those theatres for several reasons each. But I won't go into the reasons here, as I've already done that numerous times. We are left now, with the Clay, the Bridge, the Presidio, Cinema 21 and the Vogue. But for how long? I propose... nothing. It would be nice to just blame someone else for this. Like rich corporations. But it's the people who are to blame. People that go to see movies. What can you do? Most technology I love and approve of. I think cell phones are great. And the internet. The internet doesn't frighten me. Cybergenics and cloning I support. But there's something nice about One Theatre, with it's marquee lit up. Maybe I'm just sentimental. But I hate the feeling of claustrophobia, locked up in that Metreon or Van Ness. I suppose you have to deal with that many more stupid people at the big multiplexes too. And all that travelling. If you're seeing a movie at the Van Ness and are running a little late, you better hope your show isn't up on the top floor. Because it will take you about 10 minutes to get all the way up there. And that feeling of being trapped like a rat in a cage. Don't get me wrong, I'm okay with rats being trapped in cages -- and even exterminated. But not people. Saturday, July 22, I rode downtown to the Embarcadero and saw Chuck & Buck. It was pretty good. Low-budget, independent film -- you could have made it for all the money they spent. But it was good. Chuck and Buck were best friends when they were 11, but now they're nearing 30. But Buck stopped growing emotionally and mentally around the age of 11. He's obsessed with Chuck and tracks him down in LA and starts stalking him. There are a lot of funny parts. It's kind of creepy too though. There was a woman across the aisle from me and we both laughed at the same parts and with the same amount of laughter. I liked her laugh. She was with a guy and I had no idea what she looked like, but I felt there was a bond between us. I also noticed Paul Sand from the old days and Maya Rudolph, who played Chuck's assistant. I remembered Sand from being a regular on both Gimme a Break! and St. Elsewhere; and the movies Wholly Moses and The Hot Rock. If you saw him, you'd know him. Maya Rudolph Rudolph's television credits include roles on Chicago Hope, Fired Up, City of Angels and Saturday Night Live. I haven't seen her in any of those. Another upcoming feature film is called Duets. Bit parts in As Good As It Gets and Gattaca. Born in Gainsville, Florida. Rudolph resides in Los Angeles. Her birth date is July 27, 1972. Her family moved to Los Angeles to pursue music careers when she was one year-old. Her mother, vocalist Minnie Riperton, recorded and penned the hit "Lovin' You" (at the end of the song, Riperton can be heard singing "Maya Maya, Maya Maya, ...") before Minnie passed away when Maya was age 7. She schooled in Santa Monica and then UC Santa Cruz, majoring in photography. While in school, she formed a nine-piece funk band, Super Sauce, and eventually joined a second group, The Rentals. With Rudolph on vocals and keyboard, The Rentals toured across the United States and Europe, opening for The Red Hot Chili Peppers and Garbage. When the band split up, Rudolph decided to pursue a career in comedy. She quickly rose up the ranks at the famed Groundlings Theater in Los Angeles, where she is currently a regular Sunday company writer/performer. Maya's first impression on Saturday Night Live was of MTV VJ, Ananda Lewis. Monday, July 31, Castro: "But that brief outburst of excellence (1958-1960 [Rio Bravo, The Young Lions, Some Came Running, Bells Are Ringing]) has been renewed once -- in Billy Wilder's Kiss Me, Stupid (1964) -- notable for the way it acidulously exploited his own picture of himself." -- David Thomson, on Dean Martin in A Biographical Dictionary of Film Jerry Lewis and Dean Martin (Martin & Lewis) used to have an act, Jerry would act like a retard, Dean would play straight man and sing. This went from the late 40s through 1956 (when Dino broke up the act cause Jerry's head got too big) on stage, on TV and in films. Then Dean became the cool Dean. From 1958-1971 no one was cooler than Dean, except maybe Steve McQueen (but they were totally different types of cool). Steve Soderbergh is remaking Ocean's 11 with Clooney as Sinatra's Danny Ocean and likely Brad Pitt as Dean's Sam Harmon. Kiss Me Stupid is hurt by Ray Walston in a lead (Peter Sellers had another heart attack and had to bow out) and Billy Wilder's onset of age, but every second of Dean is hilarious and wonderful. Thursday, July 27, Roxie, I saw a movie called American Virgin, the third in Mena Suvari's American Trilogy, after American Pie and American Beauty. The film co-stars Bob Hoskins, Robert Loggia, Sally Kellerman, O-Lan Jones, Alexandra Wentworth, Michael Cudlitz, Ron Jeremy, Brian Bloom, Vincent Schiavelli, and Esai Morales. Hoskins and Loggia run around the whole time like they're ready to explode. Loggia's heart must have suffered just making this movie. Pretty weak stuff. Wacky comedy/satire about the porn industry, very light R though. Hoskins and Loggia are long time rivals, Hoskins gets Loggia's daughter Suvari to be in an online/pay-per-view/cyber sex telecast. Loggia doesn't want his daughter to be a porn star. Whatever. I got popcorn from a cute girl. Three balding, aging, bearded homosexuals sat in front of me and gabbed non-stop until the movie started. The guy next to me jammed his fist up in the air for like 10 seconds when somebody in the movie mentioned their love of bicycle riding. A guy was sitting right behind him.
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