I’m supposed to write my thoughts. Easy peasy, one, two threesie.

A Very Monkey Christmas starts out with Curious George exploding with anticipation for the BIG day by using The Man with the Yellow Hat as a trampoline, just as he has each morning since Thanksgiving. I laughed seeing that George also greets each morning at 5:00 a.m., just like our own curious little monkey.

The DVD unfolds in a wonderfully predictable, though perfectly comforting narrative as George and The Man each spend a month of their time and one hour of ours wondering what to get one another. As you can well imagine, this leads George to making a series of small messes while The Man hunts around town asking George’s friends and acquaintances to help him crack the code so he can give his little monkey the present he deserves.

The animation in A Very Monkey Christmas has none of the gee whiz gloss which graced George’s multiplex adventure from a few years back. Instead, the animation is exactly like that found in the version of Curious George which normally airs on PBS, sticking closely to the tradition established by the original books from more than 60 years ago. Though I did love the look of the feature film, I fully appreciate the simple design, colors and texture which made the movie look like H.A. Rey’s original books given breath.

Overall, the movie is fairly adorable. It’s simple themes and undeniable warmth are perfect for children of all ages and the script would only offend the most cynical among us. Unfortunately, this daddy didn’t really dig on the music. While I genuinely enjoyed the soundscape of the Curious George feature film, I felt the songs in this DVD were largely forgettable, except the one that rattled around in my head all Saturday afternoon. It did take the place of Michael Jackson’s “Ben,” which my daughter is suddenly and quite curiously obsessed with, and though I was grateful for that, I still didn’t care too much for the tune. Considering it was the best one in the movie, I have to admit the soundtrack was a disappointment.

Let’s be honest though, the real judges when it comes to this stuff are the kids, and they gave it four collective thumbs up. My daughter is 7 and son 5, yet neither one of them were interested in watching anything else this weekend. If Curious George had been less fun, I might’ve missed my usual weekend time with Pixar, but George was just adorable enough to make me forget.

PBS has given me two copies of the film, one which made me feel like a bootlegger because of the words, “Property of Universal” omnipresent on the screen, and another shrink wrapped mass market copy that I’m going to give away to a lucky commenter. Drop a comment below and I’ll pick someone at random to send the DVD to.

Thanks PBS!

Writer Dad

It’s been 10 years since The Phantom Menace first hit the big screen to the delight of millions of children and horror of many adults. A decade removed, plus seeing the film beside the eyes of my children for the first time, has granted me a new perspective.

10 years later, here are my thoughts on Episode I.

I won’t pretend for a second that Episode One isn’t (by FAR) the worst of the series, but viewing the film through the unjaded eyes of two of my best friends was definitely a bit of a blast. It was easy enough to imagine myself as a child. In the early 80′s I had no idea how atrocious some of the dialogue was in the original Star Wars. I’m quite sure I would have loved Episode One as a child.

To be fair to Lucas, the expectations for a new Star Wars movie were so MASSIVE it would have been nearly impossible to ever meet (let alone exceed) them. I would also add that Star Wars is his franchise to destroy should he choose. Yet having said that, one should know their strengths and weaknesses and endeavor to give their fans all that they deserve. Lucas is a brilliant producer, but a gifted director he is not, and his writing makes me wonder if he’s ever had a conversation with a real person before.

Few filmmakers possess vision on such a scale, but The Empire Strikes Back is an amazing piece of cinema because Lucas enlisted the skills of another director and an excellent writer to bring his vision to the big screen.

Back in ’99 I couldn’t seem to hate on Episode One the way the rest of the world seemed to. The more the venom seemed to drip, the more I felt like defending it. 10 years later, I stand by my original review. Episode One is the worst of the series, with dreadful dialogue and some exceedingly poor judgement, but the film still holds enough gee whiz golly wow to satisfy the five year old in all of us, so long as we allow it.

I could pick at the Phantom Menace all day, but I want to even less now than I did back then. There are however, a few things that really bothered me these last few times. Here is a by no means complete list of the unforgivable sins of Episode One:

1) The droid army. Stormtroopers were terrible soldiers, yes. They barely ever hit their mark and could seemingly get blown away by a blustery wind, but they are an army of geniuses compared to the droids. The droid army is ostensibly comprised of robots who should be able to fire their weapons with mathematical precision, and yet they have even worse aim than the stormtroopers ever did! They also use handheld microphones to communicate with one another (WHAT? That’s like one traffic light yelling to the next one, “Hey, I’m about to turn red!”) Oh, and they also have rank. I will begrudgingly accept a clumsy and inefficient droid army, but please don’t ask me to also believe they have upward mobility.

2) The politics. One of the problems many people seemed to have with the film were its more boring political aspects. I disagree. The most exciting events in history were always precipitated by something small, such as the taxation of trade routes. However, the method in which political machinations are handled in Episode One is flat out terrible. There is supposedly this ginormous galactic senate that has survived for thousands of years and maintained peace throughout the galaxy and hundreds of thousands of star systems. Yet all it takes to force the chancellor into retirement is a single senator saying, “I move for a vote of no confidence…” WOW. I have nothing more to say about that.

3) The two-headed announcer. I do like the podrace, though I did think it could have been slightly more Ben-Hur and slightly less Looney Toons, but I can’t stand the two-headed announcer. I think even the five year old in me would’ve been able to smell the stench stewing off the screen. The entire concept is mozarella to begin with, but then it’s executed horribly. Every time the announcer opens his mouth to unleash a verbal gem such as, “I don’t care what universe you’re from, that’s gotta hurt!” I find myself longing for the Episode One that never was.

4) The final battle. The final between Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan and Darth Maul is about 90% cool and 10% insipid. It starts with a wonderfully choreographed action sequence that all of a sudden melts into anti-climax after Obi-Wan finds himself dangling from a pipe above a bottomless bit, lightsaber lost and mentor murdered. Inexplicably, Obi-Wan just flips up and out of the pit, uses his magic to grab Qui-Gon’s saber, then cuts his foe in half – the same villain who was besting both Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan with little effort just two minutes before. Sorry Lucas, that’s just lazy.

5) Jar Jar Binks. I have a confession to make. 10 years ago, I harbored no hate for Jar Jar. I actually felt sorry for the gangly dude, seeing as how he was pretty much the most vilified character in cinematic history. I didn’t believe he ruined the movie, I just thought he was a rather silly character that probably didn’t belong in the first place. But I understood his purpose and imagined that I would have enjoyed him if I were a child. I’ll even admit, my children like him and think he’s funny. Having said that, the writer and father in me LOATHES Jar Jar. The Gungan may not ruin the film, but he adds nothing to it. He butchers language and isn’t even subtle or cute while doing it. Every syllable makes meesah want to put a pillow over my face. Jar Jar IS the phantom menace in Episode One.

Episode One is far from perfect. Had Lucas outlined his vision and allowed others to help him find its perfect shape we would probably have been treated to something that came closer to the originals. But my children love it, and on a Sunday afternoon that’s more than enough for me.

Writer Dad

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Partly because I received a lot of comments and emails wondering why I made no mention of Pixar’s spectacular collection of shorts, and partly because I was looking for another excuse to wax poetic about Pixar, today I’m going to discuss their shorts. I’m not going to rank them by preference, but by release date instead, with a few simple sentences spent to sing the praises of each one.

The magic in Pixar’s short films is that they are wonderfully human. With only a couple of exceptions, they are dialogue free affairs, allowing music and emotion to tell a story that lasts far longer than the scant minutes might suggest. I’ve embedded each one for you to enjoy. I really hope you do.

The Adventures of André and Wally B. was Pixar’s first short, made in 1984 a few years before they were even Pixar. Done primarily as a tech demo for the graphics arm of LucasFilm this short was the first computer animated work to display anything close to human emotion.

Luxo Jr. was the first “official” Pixar short and the first one I ever saw. I’ll never forget the day. My parents took my sister and I to the annual animation festival held on the campus of Cal State Long Beach. Luxo Jr. was scheduled. I saw it on the program, read the short description, and wondered how a computer could draw anything. When it finished, I knew I’d seen something special. The thundering applause obviously agreed.

Red’s Dream is from Pixar’s “blue period.” It tells the tale of a lonely unicycle being sold for 50% off. The unicycle dreams of a better life while the sound of a lonely sax wanders through the background. The jump in graphical achievement between Luxo Jr. and Red’s Dream is simply remarkable.

Tin Toy quite clearly sows the seeds of Toy Story. In it, a baby crawls across the floor instilling fear into the hearts of his old toys while terrorizing his newest “tin toy.” Though this short does look a bit dated, it amazing to see how high Pixar was reaching at the time, clearly far beyond the scope of available technology.

Knick Knack is the first to display the undiluted promise of all to come. Six years before Toy Story and the last short film made until the film was ready, Knick Knack tells a simple, beautiful, and wordless tale about reaching for something better. The music is wonderful and the punch line perfect.

Geri’s Game was the Pixar short that kicked off the wonderful tradition of placing a new short before each film. It tells the quiet story of a chess game in the park featuring a man who looks remarkably like my grandfather did in the last few years of his life.

For the Birds played before Monsters Inc. When I first saw it, I was sitting next to a seven month pregnant Cindy who laughed so hard I thought I was going to be a dad two months early.

Mike’s New Car might be my least favorite Pixar short. It isn’t that it isn’t good, it’s just that it didn’t have the same fresh scent as every one that preceded it.

Boundin’ is funny and wonderful, and preaches a lesson that every child and adult should learn once, learn often, and never ever forget. Though this one does use language, the way it is used makes the writer in me adore it all the more.

Jack-Jack Attack is the five or so minutes that were missing from The Incredibles. It works for me in a way the other shorts directly related to their parent films do not. Jack-Jack Attack not only manages to be fully entertaining on its own, it enhances the magic of the original film as well.

One Man Band often competes for my favorite spot. Everything about it is magic. Wow.

Mater and the Ghostlight invokes the exact same feelings for me as Mike’s New Car. It is probably my son’s favorite.

Lifted is for anyone who has ever learned to drive, wondered about the mechanics of alien abduction, or appreciated things that were awesome.

Presto has an old school charm that is rad and a half. Shown before WALL-E, I almost liked this as much as the movie.

Partly Cloudy is the latest Pixar short, shown before UP. Only 30 seconds is available on this one, but GIANT SMILES fill the other few minutes.

I highly recommend getting the Pixar Shorts DVD. The audio commentaries are wonderful, as is the included short documentary. I promise, seeing these shorts in their compressed YouTube format is NOTHING like seeing them in all their perfectly articulated glory.

Writer Dad

What better time is there to do a top ten than right after the release of the tenth film? It was suggested by both Kool Aid and Tara that I would only open myself up to a beating as everyone’s personal list was bound to be different, and I would only invite the anger of all by not choosing to place their particular favorite up at the top.

While I do agree somewhat, I also believe we as humans love lists, if for no other reason than to pick them apart and tell the author why they’re wrong. It’s in our nature. In the last year I’ve written scant few, especially around these parts. Yes, this list would probably have been different if I wrote it a week ago, and it will probably alter by the next time I lend it a thought, but for now – here are my favorite Pixar films ordered from ten to one, one being my favorite.

10) Cars. I’ve seen all ten Pixar flicks in the theater, and this is the one I enjoyed least while hugging my tub of corn. It’s also the one that has endeared itself to me most after its migration to my living room. My son has also seen all the Pixar movies, but this one is his favorite, just as it is the favorite of every boy under five I have ever met. Pixar obviously knows something I do not. Cars speaks to them in a way that none of the other films do (at least not yet). Cars is a vision with vibrant scenery and fleshed out characters, flashing by the screen with a simple message delivered well. I do love that my boy loves it and it does make me love it a little more, but if I’m being honest, there is something about Cars that just doesn’t quite click for me the way the other Pixar films do. I’ve no hesitation in placing it at 10.

9) A Bugs Life. I actually feel bad placing this one at #9 as I don’t think it gets nearly the love it deserves. I think A Bug’s Life is an amazing film and it is a true testimony to the 8 films below that such a phenomenal flick would be #9 on any top ten list. A Bug’s Life is a loose remake of the Magnificent Seven (which itself was a remake of Kirosawa’s 7 Samarai) by way of the Aesop’s fable, The Ant and the Grasshopper. At the time of it’s theatrical release, A Bug’s Life fell unfortunately under the shadow of DreamWorks Animation’s “me too” movie, Antz. Kevin Spacey is pretty much the most awesome villain ever as Hopper, the evil ringleader grasshopper, and Dennis Leary plays the best ladybug in cinematic history. Having recently watched Antz, it’s remarkable how poorly it has ripened compared to A Bug’s Life one dozen years later.

8) UP. This ranking might change a second after I give the DVD its first spin. Since I know the UK readers haven’t yet seen it, I don’t want to discuss the one issue I had with this film, especially since I’m sure my objection will get rinsed from my critique as soon as I see it a second time. I also don’t want to say specifically what my favorite thing about the film is, but I will say this: If the subsequent 75 minutes of UP were as good as the first 15 minutes, I would eagerly consider UP among the top ten films of all time. Yes, the first act is that good.

7) Ratatouille. I was foaming at the mouth to see this one when it came out. Not only because my children were both finally old enough to sit through a feature film for the first time since my daughter was a zygote, but because I needed something to prove to me that Cars was the black sheep of the Pixar family and that they were perfectly capable of bringing their A game. This movie WOWED me. Not only is it jaw droppingly gorgeous, but the score is absolute magic. The message of the film, “Anyone can cook” is elegantly simple. I believe it to my core and would also add that most any verb would work (anyone can write, for example). There is a two minute segment toward the end with a voice over given by the critic “Anton Ego” that reduces me to tears every time. Ratatouille is delicious.

6) Monsters Inc. I have a rather embarrassing confession to make. In a year that gave us both Monsters Inc. and Shrek, I actually preferred Shrek. I know, I know, what in Monstropolis was I thinking. Totally ridiculous. One is filled with cheap pop culture references while the other is rich in subtext, slipped subtly into Pixar’s candy colored shell. Monsters Inc. might be the best example of Pixar’s perfect blend of childhood heart and adult intelligence. Who else could deliver a movie about an energy crisis, rolling blackouts and industrial espionage set inside an electric world inhabited by the monsters who live in our closet? Oh, and that scene at the end with the million moving doors. I wish you could hear me whistle (actually, I’d be happy if I could actually whistle).

5) Toy Story. I know, I know, the one that started it all is midway down the list. We’re talking Pixar here though, so really we’re talking subtle degrees of absolute perfection. And while there may be more significant historical value in placing Toy Story higher on the list, I’m only accounting for the enjoyment I feel while watching these films. For me, Toy Story drags for a few minutes up in Sid’s room. Having said that, let’s bust out with a brief history lesson. When Walt Disney first unveiled Snow White back in 1937, he proved that animation could tell a feature length story with real emotion and human characters. Animation rolled along the same paradigm until Pixar came along in ’95 to redefine the art form. Fifteen years later, it still holds every pixel of its magic.

4) WALL-E. I think what I love most about Wall-E is the many risks it turns to reward. Not only does the first third of the movie start out as a nearly silent pantomime between two non English speaking robots, but the film itself is (though child friendly) the sort of straight up science fiction that rarely makes it to the theater. I can’t imagine any other studio being able to pull this film off. Not only does WALL-E have a telltale message hinting at a bleak possibility for our collective future, it also has an emotional purity that is all to rare in commercial art today.

3) Finding Nemo. Imagine if Finding Nemo didn’t star talking fish, but humans instead. That would be one heck of an intense thriller. This film plays right to the heart of every parent – what mom or dad hasn’t harbored the fear that their child will suddenly disappear. Finding Nemo is equally a cautionary tale for children. I cannot count the number of times Cindy or I have said something like, “Do you remember when Nemo didn’t listen?” Instant metaphor – picture drawn. Pixar packed Finding Nemo with action, adventure, and gorgeous underwater set pieces that were slightly better than the rest of that summer put together.

2) The Incredibles. Pixar’s first PG movie is (for my money) the best super hero movie ever made. It has shades of the Watchmen, but with hope instead of anger. Nothing in this movie is a pixel less than perfect. I am dying to see a sequel. I’m sure it’s on the drawing board, but it cannot come one second too soon. The Dark Knight was an unbelievable experience, but the freedom afforded by animation made the Incredibles untouchable. This film was everything the Fantastic Four movie should have been, though that particular product didn’t even deserve to orbit the same star. Not only is The Incredibles the best super hero movie I’ve ever seen, it also has a message about staying true to yourself and embracing your potential that I just absolutely love. My favorite line? “If everyone is special, then that means that no one is.”

1) Toy Story 2. Sequels are rarely better than the original. The Dark Knight, The Godfather II, Terminator 2; The Empire Strikes Back, Aliens, um… I’m sure I could be enlightened to a few more, but Toy Story was a game changer and Toy Story 2 came along and did it all again but better. Toy Story 2 takes the same characters and gives them an equally engaging adventure while amping up the funny, introducing new faces, and moving the entire film along at a speedier clip. This film is as good as it gets. As much as we are collectively justified in loathing the third entry in a franchise, I’ve little doubt Toy Story 3 will be the best threequel ever made.

Someday soon I’ll write about all the Pixar projects I’m looking forward to.

Writer Dad

Christian Bale and I aren’t done professionally. He acted like a punk and his outburst was inexcusable, but it won’t keep me from seeing Terminator: Salvation and the next time he’s got ears above his head, I’ll still gladly open my wallet for a ticket.

I saw the Dark Knight for the second time last night and just wanted to spend a few hundred words saying, “golly.”  Though it doesn’t have the special effects of Spiderman or the gee whiz isn’t it cool of Iron Man, it does have a resonant basis in reality that seemed impossible within the genre just a few years back.

Two and a half straight hours bursting with the brand of Batman I didn’t think ever had a chance of flying up on screen. Batman’s been the best since he had to share Saturdays with the Smurfs. The 90′s animated series was a big bag of bomb yo, but the caped crusader always looked a bit ridiculous when he was flesh and blood.

Christopher Nolan laid the framework in the first film, but Batman begins was just a bullet off the bulls-eye, the Dark Knight is a perfect shot with a flaming arrow.

Every note of the Dark Knight plays in perfect pitch with the best of the character’s rich mythology brewed over seven decades. Yet, shockingly, every moment is no less believable than most other films, and far less than any other super hero film ever shot, chopped, and tossed on screen.

When Nolan was first unveiled as the director promising to reboot the Batman franchise a few years back, I was giddy. Well, at first a little disappointed (Darren Arronofsky, director of Requiem For a Dream was originally going to direct a draft of Frank Miller’s Batman: Year One, before the WB deemed it “too dark”), but that disappointment dimmed in seconds. Once I realized the guy who directed Memento (a twisted story of insane obsession) was getting a clean shot at one of the darkest of our legends, well then I was all smiles.

The Dark Knight met the promise made by the first movie, then redefined the possibility of an entire genre.

Writer Dad

~Stephen Leacock

Last week’s Deja Vuesday presented no decisive winner, though several posts swung single votes.  Tara chose A Billion Pixels and None of Them Wasted, and I’m going with her selection because it also has a tiebreaker which ties nicely to yesterday’s post.

A Billion Pixels was the first time my father commented on my writing for Writer Dad.

He said:

I thought your wall-e blog entry was by far your best post.  Love, Pop

We spoke later that day.  He said it was the first time he could hear me speaking as he read.

I love/adore/worship Pixar; their creative process is a bottomless well for my inspiration.  They have a few projects on the horizon, giddy with possibility.  Before I send you back, allow me to drool.  Here’s a thumbnail on a few.

Up:  This coming summer’s release.

All we know: It’s the story of an old man who finds adventure in the dusk of his life.  From what I understand, this is Pixar tipping their hat to Anime God, Hiyao Miyazaki.

1906:  Pixar’s first live action movie.

All we know: It’s a disaster flick about the 1906 San Francisco earthquake.  But, Writer Dad, disaster flicks suck.  Why would Pixar want to make that? Because Pixar is digitally recreating San Francisco circa 1906, so that we may fall in love with memories that are not ours.

John Carter of Mars:  Studios were trying to get this on the big screen back when Walt Disney abandoned it in 1937 in favor of the far simpler Snow White.  I can’t  imagine the direction animation would have gone had this had the green light instead.  Plenty have tried since, from Cameron to Spielberg, but Pixar will render a classic.

All we know: John Carter, a soldier in the Civil War, is caught in a crossfire.  He slips inside a canyon, ambles to the other side, and ends up on Mars.  This is uber cool, grown up sci-fi.  Pixar purchased the film rights from the Edgar Rice Burroughs estate and are planning a trilogy based on the series.  No word on whether it’ll be live action or CGI.  My money’s on a combination of both.  Honestly, I don’t care.  If they make it with sock puppets, I’ll still be sitting in my seat with a smile on my face.

Enjoy Deja Vuesday.  This post might have been the first to squeak with the voice of adolescence.

Writer Dad

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~ Jimmy Gator, Magnolia

This is not at all what I had planned, but then, so goes life.

I had so much fun yesterday talking about movies, it’s all I wanted to do today.  Every other email brought to my mind another happy memory; two hours of cinema followed by three of conversation (I’m an exhausting date).

1999 was so full of cinematic awesome, it busted the seams of the entire millennium.  I can’t list every great movie from that year.  Well, I could, but I’m pretty sure you’re hoping I won’t.

Because I like to stay right at the bleeding edge of what everybody’s talking about, here’s my list for some of the best films of 1999.  Movies are like tickle spots.  These are mine.  I’ll keep them short and start shorter.

Star Wars: Episode One (this wasn’t nearly as bad as everyone said), The Green Mile, American Beauty, The Talented Mr. Ripley, Eyes Wide Shut (half each, stunning and terrible), The Limey (elegantly savage), South Park: Bigger, Longer, and Uncut, and Election (Reese Witherspoon at her best).

Toy Story 2:  How many sequels improve on the original?  The Godfather II, The Dark Knight, Terminator 2, Empire Strikes Back….. crickets chirping….  Toy Story redefined animation.  Toy Story 2 took everything that worked in the first one and made it like a perfect second date.  It was Pixar’s third home run, and the ball flew further than ever before.

The Matrix:  I don’t have enough superlatives for the Matrix.  Even if I did, they’d be tired by now.  The Matrix took Japanese Anime and twisted it into seamless live action, designing camera tricks that have had a half life and a half.  It was a perfectly articulated, spiritually confident action movie.  Redefining.

Three Kings:  I haven’t seen this one in several years, but I’d be surprised if I didn’t love it as much now as I did then.  The color palette was like looking on sky I’d never seen.  This movie is cool.

The Cider House Rules:  This movie feels like a poem, but in a good way.  I loved the book, but it’s nowhere near as good as the movie.

Run Lola Run:  If you haven’t seen this, do.  You have to be in to super frenetic German movies, with a lot of people yelling “Shaizer, Lola!”  You also have to be okay with thumping techno, and the same story told three times in a row.  If you like all that, and won’t feel ripped off at eighty minutes long, this movie’s rad.

Abre Sus Ojos (Open Your Eyes):  I also enjoyed the Cameron Crowe remake, Vanilla Sky, but this one was first.  It’s less Rock N’ Roll, more like a lingering trumpet solo.

The Iron Giant:  Before Brad Bird went on to blow my mind with the Incredibles and Ratatouille, he made this masterpiece.  It’s a love letter to a bygone era, with an intrepid kid, a groovy beatnik, and a giant robot.  It was also an abject failure.  The fact that Norbit made ten million dollars more on its opening weekend than The Iron Giant did in its entire theatrical run… shame on us.

Being John Malkovich:  This introduced me to one of my favorite writers.  Charlie Kaufman went on to pen Adaptation and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.  All three scripts are so unapologetically, idiosyncratically original, they make me want to weep.  I haven’t, but the intention’s there.  No one writes like this guy.

Fight Club:  I did smell the end of this one, but it so didn’t matter.  This movie is one of the flat out best directed movies ever.  You can’t see the seams.  Brad Pitt and Ed Norton; both perfect.  This movie takes beautiful metaphor and punches it in the teeth.

Magnolia:  I saved this one for last, because… well, golly; it’s just so good.  I know this one’s not for everyone, but neither is being an astronaut.  This movie is nirvana.  Totally drunk on its own ambition, yes, but it exists fully in the world it created.  You can hear it breathing.  I will watch anything PT Anderson directs, forever.  Even if he starts doing direct to DVD mini series’ featuring stick figure versions of the Muppet Babies.  I’ll wait in line.

Writer Dad

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~From Scooby-Doo

My daughter sometimes says, “Am I?” instead of, “Right?.”

Example: I’m really good at making jokes, am I?

This habit has faded; now it’s nearly gone.  I know she’s not your daughter, and so that’s probably pretty boring, but it’s relevant background so you know why I’m doing a post about, M. Night Shyamalan’s “The Sixth Sense.”

Last night at dinner…

Mia:  I’m good at finishing all my dinner, am I?

Me:  She hardly does that anymore.  I guess we won’t know when it’s the last time until we remember later.  Ramble, ramble, ramble…  

Daisy begins to clear the table…

Me:  I should do a post about “Am I.”

Daisy:  A post about M. Night.  Oh, I like that.  You could talk about “The Sixth Sense,” and how it totally got you.

Me:  I said, “Am I.”  I could do a post about how I’m really gonna miss it once Mia never says it again.

Daisy:  No words.

Me:  What?

Daisy:  It would be cute.  For maybe a sentence.  You should do a post about M. Night.

Upstairs, Writer Dad begins to write a post that is about neither “Am I” or M. Night…

Me:  I hate this post.

Voice inside me:  You should write about M. Night.  You could make it kind of funny if you start the post at dinner and tell the story about how Mia sometimes says, “Am I.”  

Me:  That’s kind of a stretch.

Voice inside me:  Well then hurry up, before you try their patience.

Onward.

It’s hard to believe that M. Night’s, “The Sixth Sense” came out almost ten years ago.  

1999 is my favorite year for movies.  Ever.  I could spend a week writing about the movies that year and I’d only be starting a category.  

Many of my favorite films came out in ’99.  Back then, Daisy and I were heading to the theater at least once a week.  I entered most movies with a bunch of background (anathema to a good time, I’ve since realized), so it was difficult to surprise me.

“The Sixth Sense” came from nowhere, and from no one in particular.

I’d seen the trailer (I used to gobble those like M&M’s), but didn’t think the movie looked particularly special.

Ooh, Bruce Willis is brooding…  BOO!

I was in the theater, opening night, watching a movie that felt a bit like the Twilight Zone, and a little like Hitchcock.  

Lots of red; I like.  Wow, this kid’s super good.  I knew he was going to say, “I see dead people,” and expected to see the fog to waft from his mouth, but the scene still gave me the chills.  

I’m swimming through the third act, which is surprisingly sharp, and the movie starts beating with this quiet, confident pulse.  Then, just before we fade to black, there’s that…

No way, you’ve gotta be kidding me, that didn’t just happen, because I always know the endings of movies and that wasn’t at all what I was expecting, and I think I need to go outside and buy myself another ticket so I can see the movie again, because I always know the endings of movies and that wasn’t at all what I was expecting….

moment.

I feel sorry for anyone who had that movie ruined for them, and bow to those who had it figured out.

I like M. Night.  A lot.  I hope he bounces back.  I’ve rooted for him (I’m the guy who liked the Village), but found myself making excuses for “Lady in Water,” and I’ve heard the “Happening” was a train wreck.

Still, I don’t think the guy’s finished.  I don’t even think he’s come close to his best movie.  

He probably just needs to remember what it was like to be hungry.

What’s your favorite movie of 1999?  

Writer Dad

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~Samuel Johnson 

Have you ever been driving, fully engaged with your passenger, and you just fly past your exit?

This happened to me yesterday; except I was alone, and I wasn’t driving.

“I Heart Movies,” wasn’t supposed to be about my parents’ wildly disparate styles of parenting.  

It was supposed to be about me, and my horrible hoarding.

Hello, my name is Writer Dad, and it’s been several months since my last DVD purchase.

Yesterday, I waxed fondly of the cinematic library of my childhood.  Our family wasn’t wealthy by any means, but one of our indulgences was undoubtedly movies.  

At first, they were a novelty.  My dad used to pick them up used from the video store next to our flower shop.  As it grew cheaper to buy them new, my mom assumed the role of acquisition.

She treated this task as though a parallel dimension hinged on her diligence.  

We filled one cabinet, then another.  A small stack started on the floor, soon mounting to a teetering tower.

Then it multiplied.

After purchasing “Mr. Destiny” (yes, she was the one), she was forbidden to buy another movie.

But my mom laughed at prohibition, and turned bootlegger.

At first, my father simply sighed and sort of pretended not to notice, but it was difficult to ignore an extra, unopened copy of “Jesus Christ Superstar.”

Arguments fogged the house with language we weren’t allowed to hear from actors.

My dad demanded that my mom stop slipping in a stack of cinema every time she went to Target.

She kept on doing it anyway.  

This was in the mid-life of VHS, about where DVDs are now, and you could practically find a blockbuster sitting at the bottom of your box of Cheerios.  But even ten cents is expensive, if it’s for two spools of magnetic ribbon that are never gonna rotate.  

Her quiet trafficking continued, until crashing into a hilarious/horrifying conclusion one afternoon in the middle of a family move.

My dad discovered a long box, about the size of a hunchback’s coffin, crammed with sealed movies, tucked in tight rows; the entire stash swaddled beneath a pile of shoes.

There was a raging tempest that day.  It may have been added to the bible, I’m not sure, but I will not speak of it here.

NOTE:  At some point, I would like to discuss my mother’s hoarding in far more detail.  It will be funny, and she is shockingly unembarrassed.  However, I am afraid that the subject will eat my blog.

Despite the discord, I loved that library, and when I left, it was something I missed.

Every weekend, as I rented four movies for four days for four dollars and took them back to my apartment, I’d envision hallways of shelves, stocked with decades of cinema, in the palatial estate of my future.

Years passed, I met Daisy, and she surprised me on our second Christmas with a DVD player about a year after they’d hit the shelves.  

I was in love, with both Daisy and the thin black, sexy thing sitting beneath my TV.

So I binged.  

For five straight years.

I won’t bore you with depths of my idiocy, but I may or may not have bought boxes of flix, for a dollar a pop, from a company based in Thailand, called “DVD’s for a Dollar.”

I’m drawn to the idea of a permanent library, even though I can admit the impracticality.  Perhaps it’s the immediate and available choice, or the tangible validation that I’ve seen or read what’s resting on my shelves.  I know part of it was a desire to share adoration with offspring; a feeling born inside me long before I had any.

Fortunately, I grew up.  I had two children, a mortgage, and no excuse not to.  And honestly, Netflix made it easy.

The last three DVD’s I’ve bought, are all Disney, and even they seem fleeting.  In a few years, it’ll all be downloads.  That’s almost like permission to hoard.  What’s the worst that could happen?  I fill up a hard drive and have to get another; how big are they anyway?

About the size of a single VHS cassette.

Writer Dad

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If you liked that, you’ll probably love, “Here’s a Macbook, Go Make Your Million,” or “Just Pay Attention.“

I love the movies.

Great films are best, but I’ll settle for good.  I’m even willing to watch bad, once… or twice.

My childhood was full of great cinema from a range of sources.  Saturdays were spent at my Grandparent’s, where my sister and I would camp on the carpet in front of an old wooden TV. It was the same size as a 42″ High Def set I would drool over now, except square instead of rectangle, and thick instead of thin.  

And no High Definition, but rather, limbo stick low resolution.  

But it was TV, and I was a kid.

Every weekend, an old film played on channel five.  The same one, four times.  This is where I learned to first tolerate, and then love, black and white.

In between the awesomeness of the Love Boat and the hysterical cool of Fantasy Island, I’d watch something like, “King Kong,” “It’s a Wonderful Life,” or “Some Like it Hot.”

Weekends were made for movies, and a festival started on Saturday, often resumed the next day.  

A family tradition, second only to Sunday breakfast, was a trip to the theater to fill the final afternoon of our weekend.  

The experience ripened alongside our years.  As our literature aged, so did our cinema.

I remember the first R rated movie we saw:

Rain Man.  

I loved it because it told me a story in a way I’d never seen.

At least not on the big screen.

At home, we had a library, stocked with a wealth of R rated features.  These red stamped flix were supposed to be off limits.  Fortunately, my mom and dad were different, each with their own opinion about what best to withhold from a budding mind.

My father believed it important to shield us from coarse language and violence (though this did not slow words that rhyme with truck and sit from frequently fleeing his lips).  

But my mom’s objections could be summed up in a single word.

Nipples.

Not nudity mind you.  Just nipples… and the short and curlies, at least if they sprung from a lady.

The swollen underside of a breast, fine.  The lazy S of a damsel’s backside, sure.  Full frontal nudity from someone with a hairy chest and dangling participles, not a problem.

Nipples?

No way.

Now here’s a test:

At age thirteen, would my mom have preferred her son to see…

A movie where a guy gets a grenade shoved in his mouth, as he’s kicked off a cliff.  He rolls down said cliff, releasing a chain of curse words which link every oath with four letters to the few that involve immediate family.  As he exhales his final syllable, he is blown to a billion bits scattered in the bed of the basin.

OR

Franco Zeffirelli’s, “Romeo and Juliet,” which displays precisely two nipples for exactly two seconds.

High five if you picked the one that might warp me.

Like any kid worth their childhood, my sister and I were able to wade the waters of our parent’s particulars.  

We saw pretty much everything.  

By the time I could drive, I was ready for flix from art house to multiplex, which probably explains my love for Tarantino.  

Who are we but the product of an infinity of finely sliced seconds, where each one matters, at least to some degree. 

What we feed our brain is important. 

Was I feeding mine well?  How do you feed yours?

Writer Dad

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If you liked that post, you’ll love, “A Billion Pixels and None of Them Wasted,” “Batman Left My Wife Lying Crumpled on the Floor,” or “An Old Dream Come True.”