Jordan Hoffman Dot Com

Like I said when I reviewed this movie close to three years ago this had a major impact on me as a kid. I knew I was seeing a “work of art” and, perhaps more importantly, I knew I was responding to it as a work of art. And it wasn’t being forced on me, I sought it out on my own. Yeah, when I was renting all those Woody Allen movies on VHS I probably was hoping to find another Love and Death so I was kinda flummoxed the first time I saw it. Then I watched it over and over and became slightly obsessed with it. I couldn’t get enough of the insane wide angles and costumes and trippy segues into fantasy. (I’d heard of Fellini, but not seen any of his movies yet.) Looking at it now, perhaps Woody coulda eased up a little on the “arty” factor. The jump cuts during Charlotte Rampling’s close-up good-bye monolgue seems a little much now. But, hey, who am I to judge?

If I knew more about Balkan history I think I’d've gotten more out of this film, a happy-sad look at life under the early days of Tito. We see the story through the eyes of a young child, though, so maybe being a little confused added to it, who knows? Young Malik is something of a dopey, fat Antoine Doinel literally sleepwalking through family and world history. Meanwhile all the adults are being cruel to each other as they cower in the face of change. A decent-enough movie with a circumcision scene you aren’t likely to forget soon.

Goodbye Augusto Pinochet.

I first learned of your crimes from Sting songs.

Now you are finally dead.

Amazing, though, how cracked individuals with power all over the world still have the ability to rouse people into wars and mass killings.

Sting better write some new songs.

What’s more fascinating than The Milgram Experiment? Not much. This doc, alas, is only an hour so some things are glossed over. But you’ll see some good Milgram footage (not a handsome man!) and some of his successors. Footage of Abu Ghraib, Kitty Genovese and some odd shenanigans in a McDonald’s included.

If this were 90 minutes it would be entertaining. As is: the negatives are about balanced with the positives. Recut it or go all out with a 12 hour version projecting simultaneously on multiple screens or something.

Oy. An absolute embarrassment to anyone who has an interest in the life and work of Abbie Hoffman. And an absolute heartbreaker to anyone who admired him. I was warned about this movie when it came out but curiosity got the better of me. It’s a shame because there is great biopic material and now it won’t ever get made because this piece of dreck is taking up the shelf space. The only good thing in the movie: the great Kevin Corrigan as Jerry Rubin, taking a few scraps of dialogue and still making a character out of it. (That’s the other heartbreak — we’ll never get the chance to see Rubin’s fascinating life reviewed in film; it could only appear in a Hoffman biopic because Rubin’s tragic sell-out is hard to rally a film around.) Oh, the shame and misery and waste! This movie makes me want to puke! Robert Greenwald must be forced to stick to his decent but boring MoveOn.org message docs. Bobby – a shonde for the goyim, no? Hoberman’s review sheds more light on the waste of this picture.

I coulda sword I’d seen Aldrich’s “Kiss Me Deadly” before, but I had not. This movie is, I feel confident in telling you, insane. It starts out breathless and energetic, then slips into a long private investigator-ish procedural. . .lots of driving around Los Angeles picking up tips and clues. Hard not to think of the Big Lebowski when seeing this kind of stuff — don’t know if that is a good thing or a bad thing. Finally we get to the ending (they are chasing a Pulp Fiction-ish “glowing box”) and then everything gets all cold war end of the world B-movie sci fi existential on us. Very unexpected. Another element of this film, again good or bad depending on point of view, is the absolutely horrible acting. In fact, the acting is so bad that I think it must be on purpose, giving this film even more of a beamed-down-from-another-planet vibe than just the ending. A real headscratcher. I can’t say I totally loved this movie, but it wouldn’t be a waste of your time to check it out.

I don’t spend a lot of time writing (or thinking) about products. Most of the crap out there that says it is going to do something never really quite does it the way they say it will. But here are two endorsements.

ChapStick! This stuff really, really works!

The other day I was in such awful pain from chapped lips. Like a shmuck, I kept trying to keep my lips moist with saliva but that just made it worse. And it was so friggin’ cold! I made it down into the subway and saw there was a little newstand there. It was pretty stinkin’ late and the kindly Pashtun fella didn’t really have much for sale. Nuts, gum, magazines of black women with enormous behinds (when oh when will someone get me a subscription to Smooth?) But I take a chance. “Any Chapstick?” And, yes, he does have some. ‘Cause why not? The dang things are so stinkin’ small that they barely take up any room. Why not bulk up?

I crack it open (berry flavored, if you are curious) and instantly I feel better. Like jumping in a pool when you are shvitzing to death. (But, like, reversed.)

Hats off to Chapstick!!!!

(And, another benefit of the flavored kind is in case there is a homeless guy on the subway you can rub the stuff on your upper lip and chase the smell away. Something I had to do five minutes later.)

The other day I took a shower and when it was done I found myself ankle deep in water. Particularly gross water as I was unusually filthy that day. I putzed around with the drain thingie — does anyone else have a tub stopper that is, like, a silver tube next to the tub? Y’know what I mean? It kinda looks like a spare rib of a radiator? Well, anyway, I putzed around with that and nuthin’. I got out the plunger and plunged around and nuthin’. So I waited for Ann to get home.

She unscrewed a wire hanger and performed what I guess you could call a hair and soap scum abortion on the outer layer of the drain. This got the water to go down. . .but slowly. So I got some Drano.

I didn’t think it would work. How could it? How could some dopey product from the 1950s actually solve a problem in my life? I figured, yeah, technically it would remove some of the blockage. . .but there’d still be a problem remant and we’d need to consult a professional. We would have to call our landlord who, as luck would have it, is actually married to a plumber — he’s fixed things for us in the past (when we moved here the plumbing was a disaster.) But I hate calling the landlord. I’ve never actually spoken to her face-to-face and I’d love to just be an abstraction to her. So I went in with the ‘O. And wouldn’t'cha know? The stuff works!

Hats off to Drano!

1/2

What? Kirk is acting mean! Huh? Spock is acting deceptive! The Vulcan Death Grip?! To quote Nurse Chapel, “There’s no such thing as the Vulcan Death Grip?!” “The Enterprise Incident” is some fun James Bond in Space action as Kirk & Spock must use subterfuge and seduction to steal the cloaking device from the Romulans. Recently screened with a group including some definite non-Trekkers and (I’m pretty sure) even they liked it.

I cannot in any good conscious recommend that anyone watch this movie unless they have a predisposition for any of the following things: airline bags, 70s computers, big glasses, the Knesset, Klaus Kinski. So, being the strange man that I am, I found merit in this film. It was only two hours, but it felt much much longer. Maybe that’s because I already saw a better version of this movie, Irvin Kershner’s Raid on Entebbe around two years ago. Operation: Thunderbolt, if you don’t know, was the successful night raid the IDF made to rescue Jewish hostages in Uganda. All kidding aside, it is an unbelievable story. Well, instead of the TV version, this is the Israeli version. That means worse camerawork and more (if you can imagine) propaganda. Believe it or not, there’s a third version out there — “Victory at Entebbe” and that one’s got Liz Taylor. I’ll get to it some day.

It’s kinda weird. I was thinking to myself that I hadn’t seen “Breathless” in years, then less than 12 hours later it is playing on Sundance Channel. “Breathless” is a hoot-and-a-half and certainly a good gateway drug for Godard and the films he’s influenced. Coming to it from a Hollywood-only perspective it may shock with its absence of plot; coming from it having reviewed much of Godard’s oevre over the last few years, I was stunned at just how much story was being flung in my face. The centerpiece, Belmondo and Seberg shmoozing in bed, still sings. They both still look great, their clothes are cool, their hats and sunglasses are cool, the things they say are cool, Paris looks cool and the music is just fabulous. Who doesn’t love this movie? It is, I will boldly say, one of the five most influential movies with regard to style ever made. Style not just in cinema but in all aspects of design. One ride on the L train ought to prove that to you.

“Song of Tibet” avoids being rated “F” because it is gorgeous. But I think so long as you remember to take the lens cap off while shooting on location in Tibet you are going to be in good shape. “Song of Tibet” also gets points because it may very well be the only imagery of modern-day Lhasa I’ve ever seen. So I do, in a way, recommend seeing this with cotton in your ears. Because the script has the subtlety of the back of a shovel being whapped repeatedly against your face. And it is Chinese government propaganda, to boot. (Hence the multiple and completely-unrelated-to-the-plot scenes of Anglo-American tourists having a “great time!” amidst the museums, hotels and internet cafes of modern Tibet! Look – they’re even allowed to bury their dead according to Buddhist traditions now. See? They’re happy!) Anyway, there’s some crap in here about a grandmother and her lost kid or something, I dunno. The acting and dialogue is like that of a Bollywood musical without the singing and without the “this-is-for-entertainment” vibe. Let’s stop talking about this movie.

If you only see one documentary-style film about Tunisian salt miners engaging in Marxian revolt, this is the one! And, frankly, feel free to skip it. While some of the imagery is neat, there’s nothing you haven’t seen in countless better labor-related films or North African ethnographic subjects. Kudos on the sound design. (Don’t they have an WD40 for that well???)

I can’t deny that I own and enjoy each of these albums in their own special way.

“Brain and brain! What is brain?!!”

Ah, poor “Spock’s Brain.” As I sat to view it I thought “wouldn’t it be wonderful if I could approach this oft-savaged episode from a revisionist point of view?” But I cannot. It is horrible. Why the two insignia score? Well, it may be horrible, but it isn’t boring. It’s actually rather fun to see something just so stupid. I think its biggest sin is trying to do too many things. There is just so much explaining going on and the end zips by with numerous contradictions and flaws in logic. My theory is that this episode exists so far outside the realm of the rest of the Star Trek universe that there is this frequent need to reorient us. It’s as if the writer (who allegedly penned this to get out of a contract) just farted the first idea that came to him (”His brain is gone!!!”) and then had to spend the rest of the episode coming up with rationalities to make this work. And, of course, he fails. Also: we are presented with the most sexist hour of television that I’ve ever seen. (Central premise: society of women living without men will have brains that atrophy to the point that they hardly remember how to breathe — but they will remember to wear tight silver miniskirts.) I could go on, but why do so when their are entire web pages dedicated to the delicious awfulness that is “Spock’s Brain.”

Senator Sam Brownback of Kansas has announced he is running for president. I’ve been afraid of Sam Brownback for years — I must admit, it was Howard Stern that hipped me to his insane fundamentalist views. Here is the problem:

It looks like Hillary Clinton really has a shot at winning the Democratic nomination in ‘08. If that happens this means we have another Republican president. Because there is no way in hell Hillary can win the general. I have as much chance as she does. It will never happen.

Now: the big contenders for the GOP are Mitt Romney, Rudy & John McCain. All of them are too “moderate” (meaning they don’t spit on gays or condemn women to hell for having control of their own bodies.) The real Americans out their driving trucks (if I may generalize) can’t handle this and they will have to run to the right. If this scenario plays out, it may mean that the only person to vote for is Brownback. Hence: President Brownback. (And, Canadian Citizen Hoffman. I mean it this time.)

‘Cause Brownback makes W. look like Woodrow Wilson’s first term.

Here, read for yourself about Brownback here. And check out this blog here.

There is a solution, of course, to the above scenario. And a surprising one at that. We all know that it’s money that makes a candidacy. Mike Bloomberg is sitting on twenty billion dollars. He can run for president thirty times and pay for it himself. He could, theoretically, run as an independent and outspend the Dems and the GOP combined twice over. And while he isn’t my favorite person on Earth, that’s an outcome I could live with.

I’ve been avoiding this film because I knew it would make me angry. Guess what? It made me angry. As Ann points out, we spend a lot of time criticizing Arab countries for their treatment of women – how about how women are treated right here in the West? These “Magdalene Laundries” existed in Ireland until 1996!!!! If you don’t know the story, basically, “fallen girls” (victims of rape or unwed mothers or orphans who were too pretty for their own good) were sent to, essentially, concentration camps. Here they were fed and clothed, yes, but also beaten, psychologically abused and forced to work as slaves for the Catholic Church’s profit. Until they died or until a family member came to get them. But seeing as how it was their family that sent them there in the first place, that wasn’t very likely. Anyway, the film is so upsetting it made me want to vomit — I think I was actually shouting at my TV for a while. The only moment of levity (a scene taken directly from “Revenge of the Nerds,” oddly enough) lasts about three seconds before it collapses on itself to become even more tragic. If you feel your blood pressure it too low, see this movie. There are scenes that you’ll be convinced are out of science fiction like “The Handmaid’s Tale” or at least from a generally accepted terror government from, say, “The Gulag Archipeligo.” But not quite. Apart from being horrible and shocking it is very well made and the performances are absolutely terrific. The opening sequence (at the wedding celebration, after the rape) is like a fabulous five minute silent film set to some stunning traditional Irish music.

Ah, the goofy, wonderful splendor that is “Assignment: Earth.” The second season of The Orignal Series ends on an up note with this would-be spin-off featuring a Man From U.N.C.L.E./Danger Man/Mission: Impossible/Highway to Heaven benevolent spaceman (actually, a human. . .he was just raised in space) who wants to help the planet earth find its way to peace during the turbulent Cold War/Civil Rights era. Who wouldn’t want to watch the stern Gary Seven, his cat/sexpot aide Isis and his dopey secretary sidekick Teri Garr muck about with the CIA and KGB? Well, the networks, obviously, as this episode of Trek is as much of that show you’re ever gonna see. And it’s a great episode, with Saturn rockets, fabulous outfits (says Ann), and Spock in a fishing hat. When Kirk and Spock joke, “yes, it looks like they’ll be having lots more adventures together as they beam away, all you can do is sigh.