There is already buzz about Heath Ledger getting an Oscar nomination for The Dark Knight, which will almost certainly happen. But I genuinely believe that it would have, even if he had not tragically died. It's a phenomenal performance.
The movie is far better than the good (but not astounding) Batman Begins, which was mostly notable for taking a darker and more serious approach to a comic book superhero than for actually being that great of a movie.
I have a beef, though, with the critics and their ilk who seem so blown away that Batman can be so dark and serious. Has Joel Schumacher completely erased everyone's memory of the Tim Burton movies? Any critic reviewing The Dark Knight in this light should be required to rewatch Batman and Batman Returns again. Bruce Wayne as dark, disturbed, and brooding? Check. Morally complex situations involving good and evil? Check. Yeah, okay, the soundtrack by Prince doesn't score any gloom points, but nothing the Joker does in The Dark Knight qquite approaches the fearsomeness of his Smilex gas attack on Gotham City while throwing money around. Nicholson's Joker was scary in his nutty, over-the-top way. He did things just as gruesome as The Dark Knight's Joker, perhaps even moreso. Christopher Nolan's films are no darker than Tim Burton's. They are just missing a certain lightness and focus that Burton's also possess that makes Burton's films ultimately more entertaining and successful.
But that's only if the films are to be compared, which really, they shouldn't be. There's no point. They're very different approaches to the material, and since both are very good, why quibble? The Dark Knight fixes most of what wasn't quite right with Batman Begins. It has a much better story and, of course, a superb villain (which Nolan's first film didn't). It furthers what Batman Begins started by grounding it all a little more in reality; The Dark Knight has a tone similar to something like Goodfellas, whereas Burton's films had the tone of, well, a Tim Burton film.
The greatest drawback to both of Nolan's films, though, is a certain lack of specificity about the villains. We never quite feel like we know them. Nicholson's Joker, Danny DeVito's Penguin, and especially Michelle Pfeiffer's Catwoman were psychologically complex characters, particularly in a comic book movie (compare them to anyone from Spider-Man, for example). We get a full sense of who they are, what they want, where they came from. Nolan's films leave the details a little fuzzy - and so, as great as Heath Ledger's performance is, I can't help wanting a little more from the character. (Which might have happened - or might still, if a different actor assumes the role - in the third film, had Ledger not died.) It's clear that Nolan wants his Joker's origins to be mysterious, and his motives murkier, and that's fine...but still, I felt a little something missing from the script.
Nolan's Batman films (and perhaps his other films as well) are dark, brooding, morally complex, and psychologically interesting - but they're more cerebral than they are moving. You understand what's happening more than you feel it. As committed as he is to these stories taking place in as close a facsimile to the real world as possible, I don't think he ever quite lets his characters feel real or complete. They always seem to be functioning according to the plot than on their own terms. Ledger comes much closer than anyone in transcending that here in a performance that truly is one of the best villains in recent memory. The Dark Knight is a strong film, a very good film, especially for a major studio's summer blockbuster. I can't help but wish it was only a little bit better, good enough to be truly excellent, without my one caveat about the film's characters. If only the script had given him just a little more to do, just a few more moments to let us enjoy his wonderful interpretation of the character. Though much has been improved since Batman Begins and The Dark Knight truly is an exceptional summer film, there is still a small something missing from the screenplays that stops them from making a heavier impact.
But why quibble? The Dark Knight is pretty awesome. Heath Ledger even moreso, and fully worthy of the kudos he's getting. It's easy to forget that he's gone while watching the movie, because he's riveting. But even when he's not on screen in The Dark Knight, he's missed. It's shocking and sad all over again to realize that we will not experience any more of Ledger's talent. I feel the same about Ledger's performance as I do about the film itself....as good as it is, I am left wanting more.
Friday, July 18, 2008
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
GRANDMA, TAKE ME HOME.
*
You know how you can hear a certain song a hundred times, perhaps enjoy it, perhaps be totally indifferent to it, and it doesn't make that much of an impression on you? And then all of a sudden it kind of hits you how great it is?
In part, I think it has something to do with maturing. But I certainly feel like kind of a doltfor suddenly realizing, Hey! Nirvana was a really great band!
I mean, I always enjoyed Nirvana's music. I still remember the day Kurt Cobain committed suicide, because it was a big deal on the news. However, I had no idea who he was at the time. I discovered alternative music several years after the rest of the world, in 8th grade, when I felt peer pressure to listen to music beyond the soundtrack to the most recent Disney animated picture. (Hey, The Lion King soundtrack was kinda cool when I was 5th grade! It wasn't until I purchased the Hercules CD that something felt off.) Seattle has a pretty awesome - dare I say the definitive? - alternative radio station, 107.7 The End. You can bet I heard a lot of Nirvana as I listened primarily to that station throughout the rest of my teenage years.
In fact, you could say that on The End I heard exactly as much Nirvana as I desired, no more and no less. Nirvana was a band whose music I always enjoyed hearing when it came on and never desired to hear when it didn't. I could comfortably sing or hum along with their biggest hits and I'm sure at times I kind of rocked out to them and seriously enjoyed it. But I never felt an urge to buy a Nirvana album, not even just to look cool. They were never quite that kind of band for me.
'Til now! I don't know what happened. I still hear plenty of Nirvana on KROQ, so it's not like I rediscovered them after a long absence. It may have been the prominent role "Come As You Are" plays in my recent Netflix rental Definitely Maybe. But all of a sudden, when Nirvana does come on KROQ now, I am like, "Yeeeeah Nirvana!" Like, I always knew they were good, but now it's more of a feeling than pure and simple knowledge. It just hit me. It's just about the dorkiest revelation an alternative music fan who grew up in Seattle in the 90's could possibly have. For some reason, that both strikes me as really strange and also highly amusing. Kind of like I just figured out something that I have secretly known for the last 14 years. Has this ever happened to you? I know it's happened to me on a smaller and less entertaining scale, with individual songs if not entire bands, especially bands that were so prolific and influential during my formative years (and ever since). Maybe next I'll actually start liking the Beatles (yeah, I know, but I'm mostly indifferent to them with the exception of a few songs).
So I'm 14 years late, but the urge to hear Nirvana's music collectively in album format finally hit me. I didn't plan it this way, but I ordered my very first Nirvana CD and it arrived today, on the very day I flew into Seattle. I am now enjoying it immensely, like listening to an old favorite that was never quite my favorite. It's the perfect soundtrack for right now. It was a great time to get out of LA for me - I love the place, but at times, certain aspects of it just become poison. The only remedy is to escape.
Tiffany, my PNW partner-in-crime, is in Chile this year, which diminishes all my usual plans. As of right now, I have almost nothing planned. (Fitting. The same is true of my life in general.) I've been looking forward to the break to get back to my roots, so to speak. My essence. I'm kinda fine being on my own here without much to do for the time being. I've lost my perspective lately. I haven't quite been myself, or anyone in particular. I've been alright, but I don't love where I've been lately. So it's nice to be elsewhere.
Sometimes I see things really crystal clear here.
I'm looking forward to clarity.
Grandma, take me home
I want to be alone.
You know how you can hear a certain song a hundred times, perhaps enjoy it, perhaps be totally indifferent to it, and it doesn't make that much of an impression on you? And then all of a sudden it kind of hits you how great it is?
In part, I think it has something to do with maturing. But I certainly feel like kind of a doltfor suddenly realizing, Hey! Nirvana was a really great band!
I mean, I always enjoyed Nirvana's music. I still remember the day Kurt Cobain committed suicide, because it was a big deal on the news. However, I had no idea who he was at the time. I discovered alternative music several years after the rest of the world, in 8th grade, when I felt peer pressure to listen to music beyond the soundtrack to the most recent Disney animated picture. (Hey, The Lion King soundtrack was kinda cool when I was 5th grade! It wasn't until I purchased the Hercules CD that something felt off.) Seattle has a pretty awesome - dare I say the definitive? - alternative radio station, 107.7 The End. You can bet I heard a lot of Nirvana as I listened primarily to that station throughout the rest of my teenage years.
In fact, you could say that on The End I heard exactly as much Nirvana as I desired, no more and no less. Nirvana was a band whose music I always enjoyed hearing when it came on and never desired to hear when it didn't. I could comfortably sing or hum along with their biggest hits and I'm sure at times I kind of rocked out to them and seriously enjoyed it. But I never felt an urge to buy a Nirvana album, not even just to look cool. They were never quite that kind of band for me.
'Til now! I don't know what happened. I still hear plenty of Nirvana on KROQ, so it's not like I rediscovered them after a long absence. It may have been the prominent role "Come As You Are" plays in my recent Netflix rental Definitely Maybe. But all of a sudden, when Nirvana does come on KROQ now, I am like, "Yeeeeah Nirvana!" Like, I always knew they were good, but now it's more of a feeling than pure and simple knowledge. It just hit me. It's just about the dorkiest revelation an alternative music fan who grew up in Seattle in the 90's could possibly have. For some reason, that both strikes me as really strange and also highly amusing. Kind of like I just figured out something that I have secretly known for the last 14 years. Has this ever happened to you? I know it's happened to me on a smaller and less entertaining scale, with individual songs if not entire bands, especially bands that were so prolific and influential during my formative years (and ever since). Maybe next I'll actually start liking the Beatles (yeah, I know, but I'm mostly indifferent to them with the exception of a few songs).
So I'm 14 years late, but the urge to hear Nirvana's music collectively in album format finally hit me. I didn't plan it this way, but I ordered my very first Nirvana CD and it arrived today, on the very day I flew into Seattle. I am now enjoying it immensely, like listening to an old favorite that was never quite my favorite. It's the perfect soundtrack for right now. It was a great time to get out of LA for me - I love the place, but at times, certain aspects of it just become poison. The only remedy is to escape.
Tiffany, my PNW partner-in-crime, is in Chile this year, which diminishes all my usual plans. As of right now, I have almost nothing planned. (Fitting. The same is true of my life in general.) I've been looking forward to the break to get back to my roots, so to speak. My essence. I'm kinda fine being on my own here without much to do for the time being. I've lost my perspective lately. I haven't quite been myself, or anyone in particular. I've been alright, but I don't love where I've been lately. So it's nice to be elsewhere.
Sometimes I see things really crystal clear here.
I'm looking forward to clarity.
Grandma, take me home
I want to be alone.
Friday, March 21, 2008
GOTTA LOVE THE BPM
Once again, this is something I responded to someone else that I wanted to keep....
For whatever reasons, life tends to want us to settle into things the more we age. When we're young, we have no choice but to try new things, because everything is new. In high school there are a variety of after school activities; in college there is even more to do, and it's easy and expected to sign up for a random class here and there that may not be too close to your comfort zone. But then life tends to demand that you stick pretty close to what you've already done and what you already are, because that's how you make money and survive, supposedly. Which maybe at one point made sense, but for a lot us now isn't necessarily the case. I for one am certainly not done developing and growing, and yet if we want to do it at this point we have to really go out there and do it. You have to seek it out. And it's a lot harder and scarier. It's kind of embarrassing to try something you don't already know how to do. And it's much easier not to.
I know because I too have experienced certain of these feelings - not depression so much, lately, but feeling myself being analytical and detached rather than living in the moment. Finding it almost impossible to live in the moment, rather than immediately see everything for what it is and what it means. And I also just started taking a class that makes me uncomfortable because I know nothing about it and I have to really focus and concentrate and practice to be any good at it. It's been awhile since I really seriously learned anything new. You almost forget that you can learn new things at this point. And I for once have found it a lot harder to focus and get in there and do the work now, as opposed to even a few years ago, when it wouldn't be such a big deal. I'm kind of hoping that jumping through this hoop and really working on one new thing will open the doors for more, because I'm not satisfied with just the skills I have, but I didn't realize how much harder it would be to do new things after the fact, or I probably would have gotten myself started on a bunch of stuff sooner.
For whatever reasons, life tends to want us to settle into things the more we age. When we're young, we have no choice but to try new things, because everything is new. In high school there are a variety of after school activities; in college there is even more to do, and it's easy and expected to sign up for a random class here and there that may not be too close to your comfort zone. But then life tends to demand that you stick pretty close to what you've already done and what you already are, because that's how you make money and survive, supposedly. Which maybe at one point made sense, but for a lot us now isn't necessarily the case. I for one am certainly not done developing and growing, and yet if we want to do it at this point we have to really go out there and do it. You have to seek it out. And it's a lot harder and scarier. It's kind of embarrassing to try something you don't already know how to do. And it's much easier not to.
I know because I too have experienced certain of these feelings - not depression so much, lately, but feeling myself being analytical and detached rather than living in the moment. Finding it almost impossible to live in the moment, rather than immediately see everything for what it is and what it means. And I also just started taking a class that makes me uncomfortable because I know nothing about it and I have to really focus and concentrate and practice to be any good at it. It's been awhile since I really seriously learned anything new. You almost forget that you can learn new things at this point. And I for once have found it a lot harder to focus and get in there and do the work now, as opposed to even a few years ago, when it wouldn't be such a big deal. I'm kind of hoping that jumping through this hoop and really working on one new thing will open the doors for more, because I'm not satisfied with just the skills I have, but I didn't realize how much harder it would be to do new things after the fact, or I probably would have gotten myself started on a bunch of stuff sooner.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
"EVERYBODY SHOULD HAVE ONE TALENT. WHAT'S YOURS?"
*
When people ask me who my favorite writers and/or directors are, I always mention Anthony Minghella, and they never know who that is. He hasn't made a large number of films and he's far from a household name, but the films he's made are classy and elegant, and in at least a couple cases, brilliant. Plus he's that rare breed of writer/director. There is a consistency and specificity of vision that comes through almost solely on films directed by the person who wrote them that his films have, a perfect blend of screenplay and direction coming together to tell a story. It's what I want to do, and I admire the relatively small number of people out there who are able to do it and do it well. Anthony Minghella was one of them.
The English Patient won acclaim (and Best picture) long before I saw it. For awhile, it was most memorable to me for that episode of "Seinfeld" where Elaine pretends she hasn't seen it because she didn't like it and everyone else loves it, and then has to go see it again. It's a great movie that I want to watch again sometime, especially now, but since I didn't see it when it came out, it's just one of those fantastic movies I experienced after the fact, like Raging Bull or Casablanca.
Cold Mountain is a movie that I hear a fair amount of people say they didn't like, though I can never understand why. I think it's simply beautiful, heartbreakingly beautiful, and it affects me a lot more than The English Patient did. (Again, this may be the difference between seeing a movie in theaters, twice, and once with the director speaking afterward, and on a tiny TV on DVD.) But I also think it's just such an interesting story, set in such an interesting time, and it feels closer because it's American history. I love the fact that Ada and Inman know each other only briefly. Relationships back then were differentl courtship was often brief, if there even was one, practical strangers would be married and have to "love" each other. So the fact that their brief encounter leads them to "love" each other for years makes sense in that time period. Besides, their love has very little to do with the other person; it's something to hold onto, a face to put on a feeling. I've done that before. I've held on insanely tightly to a one-sided love. I know how such a strong feeling - even if part of it is only imagined - can get you through just about anything. It can keep you alive when you otherwise might not be. So this movie speaks to me. It also has gorgeous cinematography and an absolutely wonderful soundtrack, and it is one of the crimes of the century that it was not nominated for Best Picture. The 2004 Academy Awards nominated Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King (which was of course undefeatable that year), as well as Mystic River, Lost in Translation, Master & Commander: The Far Side of the World, and Seabiscuit. Yes, Seabiscuit. I would argue that Cold Mountain is a far better film than any of those four nominees (Return of the King is debatable), but Seabiscuit's nomination is almost a joke. Supposedly many Academy members were mad that Minghella filmed an American history movie in Europe - which he did primarily because they have old growth forests there, so the tress would look like they did before we cut them all down - and that's why the movie was snubbed. Seabiscuit on the other hand is as American as apple pie, though it's about as tasteless and hard to swallow as, well, a seabiscuit. Anyway, Cold Mountain is one of the most lyrical and haunting love stories I've ever seen, mostly because it's not about a love between two people, but they love they each hold onto in order to survive a dark time filled with many perils.
And The Talented Mr. Ripley. I almost can't start talking about how good this movie is, because I'll never stop. For one, it has a dream cast: Matt Damon, Jude Law, Gwyneth Paltrow, Philip Seymour Hoffman, and Cate Blanchett. It's probably the best acting the three leads have ever done. Cate Blanchett, who of course has been astounding in just about everything, consistently amazes me at the way she was able to take such a small role in this film and make it seem so larger-than-life and important. On the page, there's not much to her character Meredith Logue - she's a rich girl with a crush. But in the film, you just want to see more of her. You want to watch a whole movie about her. That's a true sign of a brilliant actress. This role basically made Jude Law a star (and an Oscar nominee) and it's a brilliant character and a brilliant performance, so dynamic. Dickie Greenleaf needed to be someone you love to hate, and such a dynamic presence that you both feel his absence after he's gone, yet also still feel his presence lingering. And this is Matt Damon's best performance - I wish he'd do something else challenging like this, because I like him, and yet he doesn't take many difficult roles. Here he's simply great at getting every one of Tom Ripley's emotions right, giving us just enough but never too much. It's the best movie I've ever seen about duplicity, it's one of the all-time greatest character studies, and even though almost everyone I know likes it, I think it's one of the most underrated movies ever made. Of course the writing and direction are what truly make it exceptional, and it's a brilliant script with fantastic direction. I think it's a perfect movie and easily my favorite, the one I connect to the most. It might be weird to say that a killer is the film character I have found myself most similar to, but it's Tom's inability to reconcile the different sides of himself, his struggle with self-acceptance, his search for himself in others' lives, his obsession with appearances and transformation, his shame of his sexuality, his ultimate failure in creating the identity he strives for, his constant desperation at trying to keep up a life that doesn't belong to him, his dueling desires for things that contradict each other, his talent for figuring people out and manipulating them, and his envy of privileged people who don't have to deal with any of this. Plus it's set in 1950's Italy! What could possibly be a more appealing.
What makes Anthony Minghella's death really tragic is that he only made a small number of films, and there is the feeling that he would have made several more that were high quality, that were brilliant, that would win awards. It is the same with Heath Ledger's passing - he really didn't get a chance to show the world everything he could do, and future art will suffer from the losses. And while Ledger was certainly young, so was Anthony Minghella at 54, at least for a director. I have a troubling sense that some of my favorite movies will now never be made.
After seeing Cold Mountain and hearing him speak, I went to a book signing with Anthony Minghella to get him to sign my copy of The Talented Mr. Ripley screenplay, as well as a couple Cold Mountain books. He was an extremely kind and intelligent man, and it was one of my favorite encounters with someone I really admire. It was January of 2004, and I'd recently dressed as a "rock star goth" for Halloween and still had some of that influence in my wardrobe. He asked if I was an actor, and I said no, I'm a writer. But then as I left I wondered if I should have said yes and seen if he would put me in one of his movies. Anyway, I guess I'm glad I at least got to meet him. I got a sense from our brief meeting that we would meet again someday, that the story wasn't over.
But I guess it is.
So here's to the Mysterious Yearning Secretive Sad Lonely Troubled Confused Loving Musical Gifted Intelligent Beautiful Tender Sensitive Haunted Passionate Talented Mr. Minghella.
When people ask me who my favorite writers and/or directors are, I always mention Anthony Minghella, and they never know who that is. He hasn't made a large number of films and he's far from a household name, but the films he's made are classy and elegant, and in at least a couple cases, brilliant. Plus he's that rare breed of writer/director. There is a consistency and specificity of vision that comes through almost solely on films directed by the person who wrote them that his films have, a perfect blend of screenplay and direction coming together to tell a story. It's what I want to do, and I admire the relatively small number of people out there who are able to do it and do it well. Anthony Minghella was one of them.
The English Patient won acclaim (and Best picture) long before I saw it. For awhile, it was most memorable to me for that episode of "Seinfeld" where Elaine pretends she hasn't seen it because she didn't like it and everyone else loves it, and then has to go see it again. It's a great movie that I want to watch again sometime, especially now, but since I didn't see it when it came out, it's just one of those fantastic movies I experienced after the fact, like Raging Bull or Casablanca.
Cold Mountain is a movie that I hear a fair amount of people say they didn't like, though I can never understand why. I think it's simply beautiful, heartbreakingly beautiful, and it affects me a lot more than The English Patient did. (Again, this may be the difference between seeing a movie in theaters, twice, and once with the director speaking afterward, and on a tiny TV on DVD.) But I also think it's just such an interesting story, set in such an interesting time, and it feels closer because it's American history. I love the fact that Ada and Inman know each other only briefly. Relationships back then were differentl courtship was often brief, if there even was one, practical strangers would be married and have to "love" each other. So the fact that their brief encounter leads them to "love" each other for years makes sense in that time period. Besides, their love has very little to do with the other person; it's something to hold onto, a face to put on a feeling. I've done that before. I've held on insanely tightly to a one-sided love. I know how such a strong feeling - even if part of it is only imagined - can get you through just about anything. It can keep you alive when you otherwise might not be. So this movie speaks to me. It also has gorgeous cinematography and an absolutely wonderful soundtrack, and it is one of the crimes of the century that it was not nominated for Best Picture. The 2004 Academy Awards nominated Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King (which was of course undefeatable that year), as well as Mystic River, Lost in Translation, Master & Commander: The Far Side of the World, and Seabiscuit. Yes, Seabiscuit. I would argue that Cold Mountain is a far better film than any of those four nominees (Return of the King is debatable), but Seabiscuit's nomination is almost a joke. Supposedly many Academy members were mad that Minghella filmed an American history movie in Europe - which he did primarily because they have old growth forests there, so the tress would look like they did before we cut them all down - and that's why the movie was snubbed. Seabiscuit on the other hand is as American as apple pie, though it's about as tasteless and hard to swallow as, well, a seabiscuit. Anyway, Cold Mountain is one of the most lyrical and haunting love stories I've ever seen, mostly because it's not about a love between two people, but they love they each hold onto in order to survive a dark time filled with many perils.
And The Talented Mr. Ripley. I almost can't start talking about how good this movie is, because I'll never stop. For one, it has a dream cast: Matt Damon, Jude Law, Gwyneth Paltrow, Philip Seymour Hoffman, and Cate Blanchett. It's probably the best acting the three leads have ever done. Cate Blanchett, who of course has been astounding in just about everything, consistently amazes me at the way she was able to take such a small role in this film and make it seem so larger-than-life and important. On the page, there's not much to her character Meredith Logue - she's a rich girl with a crush. But in the film, you just want to see more of her. You want to watch a whole movie about her. That's a true sign of a brilliant actress. This role basically made Jude Law a star (and an Oscar nominee) and it's a brilliant character and a brilliant performance, so dynamic. Dickie Greenleaf needed to be someone you love to hate, and such a dynamic presence that you both feel his absence after he's gone, yet also still feel his presence lingering. And this is Matt Damon's best performance - I wish he'd do something else challenging like this, because I like him, and yet he doesn't take many difficult roles. Here he's simply great at getting every one of Tom Ripley's emotions right, giving us just enough but never too much. It's the best movie I've ever seen about duplicity, it's one of the all-time greatest character studies, and even though almost everyone I know likes it, I think it's one of the most underrated movies ever made. Of course the writing and direction are what truly make it exceptional, and it's a brilliant script with fantastic direction. I think it's a perfect movie and easily my favorite, the one I connect to the most. It might be weird to say that a killer is the film character I have found myself most similar to, but it's Tom's inability to reconcile the different sides of himself, his struggle with self-acceptance, his search for himself in others' lives, his obsession with appearances and transformation, his shame of his sexuality, his ultimate failure in creating the identity he strives for, his constant desperation at trying to keep up a life that doesn't belong to him, his dueling desires for things that contradict each other, his talent for figuring people out and manipulating them, and his envy of privileged people who don't have to deal with any of this. Plus it's set in 1950's Italy! What could possibly be a more appealing.
What makes Anthony Minghella's death really tragic is that he only made a small number of films, and there is the feeling that he would have made several more that were high quality, that were brilliant, that would win awards. It is the same with Heath Ledger's passing - he really didn't get a chance to show the world everything he could do, and future art will suffer from the losses. And while Ledger was certainly young, so was Anthony Minghella at 54, at least for a director. I have a troubling sense that some of my favorite movies will now never be made.
After seeing Cold Mountain and hearing him speak, I went to a book signing with Anthony Minghella to get him to sign my copy of The Talented Mr. Ripley screenplay, as well as a couple Cold Mountain books. He was an extremely kind and intelligent man, and it was one of my favorite encounters with someone I really admire. It was January of 2004, and I'd recently dressed as a "rock star goth" for Halloween and still had some of that influence in my wardrobe. He asked if I was an actor, and I said no, I'm a writer. But then as I left I wondered if I should have said yes and seen if he would put me in one of his movies. Anyway, I guess I'm glad I at least got to meet him. I got a sense from our brief meeting that we would meet again someday, that the story wasn't over.
But I guess it is.
So here's to the Mysterious Yearning Secretive Sad Lonely Troubled Confused Loving Musical Gifted Intelligent Beautiful Tender Sensitive Haunted Passionate Talented Mr. Minghella.
IN RESPONSE
I made a blog a long time ago, and then never posted on it. I've had others, most notably LiveJournal, that I still write on, so I'm not sure why I would need another, what the difference would be, but here it is. This one is meant to be a more casual and random blog for the public eye.
Anyway, below is a comment I posted to Tiffany, but I decided I'd like to keep it somewhere, so here it is:
I see memories with different shades of colors too, which I always thought of as an extension of my filmmaking skills, because when I imagine certain films of mine, they have different color and lighting schemes. It's interesting the way we end up remembering things, and how hazy and dream-like even things that really happened are. We often lose the context of what was happening at the time and remember mostly the emotions and a few physical details. In a way I wish there was, say, footage of all these moments, but then again I think it would be terrifying to see what was actually going on, versus what we have been telling ourselves it was like. On an only somewhat-related note, my computer saves IM conversations so I can read things I have forgotten I talked about with people 5 years ago. It's eerie because IM's sound so robotic and emotionless, you read words you've written and it's like, "Really? Was I really so cold and arrogant?" But since these are just words with no attachment to physical details, I guess it can't be judged.
When I was little - I may have even told you this before - I had heard that the universe goes on forever, and I simply refused to believe it. I could not comprehend forever. It scared the shit out of me. I just let myself think that everyone else was wrong, because of course the universe MUST end. Everything must come to a logical conclusion, somehow, somewhere. Yet I remember this puzzle keeping me up at night, and my parents would have to come in and talk to me to calm down my wondering mind. Then one of these nights, my beastly father said, "Well if the universe ends, then what's on the other side?" And that question blew my mind and seriously upset me, because I realized that of course he was right. "Nothing" can't exist, because even nothing would have to be something. But how can there be a limitless forever? How is that possible? By human understanding, it simply isn't possible, and yet it's opposite isn't possible either, so there is just a whole lot of impossible out there whether we like it or not. It made me cry at the time...I still don't like to think about it.
Anyway, below is a comment I posted to Tiffany, but I decided I'd like to keep it somewhere, so here it is:
I see memories with different shades of colors too, which I always thought of as an extension of my filmmaking skills, because when I imagine certain films of mine, they have different color and lighting schemes. It's interesting the way we end up remembering things, and how hazy and dream-like even things that really happened are. We often lose the context of what was happening at the time and remember mostly the emotions and a few physical details. In a way I wish there was, say, footage of all these moments, but then again I think it would be terrifying to see what was actually going on, versus what we have been telling ourselves it was like. On an only somewhat-related note, my computer saves IM conversations so I can read things I have forgotten I talked about with people 5 years ago. It's eerie because IM's sound so robotic and emotionless, you read words you've written and it's like, "Really? Was I really so cold and arrogant?" But since these are just words with no attachment to physical details, I guess it can't be judged.
When I was little - I may have even told you this before - I had heard that the universe goes on forever, and I simply refused to believe it. I could not comprehend forever. It scared the shit out of me. I just let myself think that everyone else was wrong, because of course the universe MUST end. Everything must come to a logical conclusion, somehow, somewhere. Yet I remember this puzzle keeping me up at night, and my parents would have to come in and talk to me to calm down my wondering mind. Then one of these nights, my beastly father said, "Well if the universe ends, then what's on the other side?" And that question blew my mind and seriously upset me, because I realized that of course he was right. "Nothing" can't exist, because even nothing would have to be something. But how can there be a limitless forever? How is that possible? By human understanding, it simply isn't possible, and yet it's opposite isn't possible either, so there is just a whole lot of impossible out there whether we like it or not. It made me cry at the time...I still don't like to think about it.
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