Sunday, March 28, 2010

Title it? Hell, I’m not sure what it’s about!

It irritated me "Juno" wasn't better because I had heard such great things about the film. Good reviews are sort of a curse for this sort of film because it wasn't made to be a great film just a really good one. But once the buzz starts people have a tendency to get caught up in everything that has anything to do with the film, and people like me who see it long after the buzz is over have no hope of catching it. I never got the whole "Blair Witch" thing at all.

Aside from the nocturnal manifestations which form into the semblance of Bonnie Parker in my bedroom betimes, the supernatural has no affect on me whatsoever. There isn't one of the back-from-the-dead-for-revenge movies that scare me a bit. Zombie movies amuse me for a few moments at best. The idea there is some maladjusted spirit haunting a house so anyone who enters will not only be stricken so stupid as to not leave, but eventually killed, along with the rest of the cast, strikes me as a plot vehicle that ought to work about once every twenty-five years.

Now, I like vampire movies to a degree because I like the idea of vampires, and I like to see people get it right. That happens very rarely and the "Twilight" thing, well, doesn't get it right. I like werewolves but that's usually done poorly as well. But neither scares me at all. Those two critters have been around a lot longer than most fans suspect, but at the same time their longevity also distracts the ability to suspend disbelief. Anne Rice had a good thing going but nothing lasts forever.

The problem here is even if a vampire showed up here one night, replete with turtle neck cape and a Bluh! Bluh! Bluh! I would just assume I was dreaming, or nuts, and go about my business which in case you haven't been paying attention I can do quite well while going nuts and half asleep. If a scaly dozen legged beast with horns rose out of the pond and headed towards civilization I'd take some photos, look at them to make sure there wasn't an exhaust pipe or a zipper to be found on the monster, post them to a few friends to get a second opinion, and then go look for something that might have fallen off of it, like a fake horn or maybe it left a shoe print. But to believe out of hand that it was some monster? I don't see that happening unless the thing tears my roof off while we're inside watching "Lost".

I'm uncertain what it would take to convince me something flashing lights in the sky were from some distant planet, but rest assured it would have to be a lot more than flashing lights in the sky. The bad thing about all this if aliens did knock on my front door I would be trying to tear the mask off one of them and likely cause the first intergalactic incident. Like John Wilkes Booth, Lee Harvey Oswald, and Brutus, Mike Firesmith would go down in history as someone who killed the wrong…person?


 

All that said I'm a man with a decent amount of superstition. I do believe the massive Oaks on my property know who I am, and they know in some way as long as I live no harm will come to them. I believe I am safer, saner, and more in tune with the Universe when I am in the company of dogs. I believe there is something Magical and Holy about writing. I don't believe this because I'm a writer; I have always believed this, and for a very long time, it was part of why I was afraid to write.

Popular culture is a vast and empty wasteland, but there are some films I think transcend the norm and raise the bar for the medium. "The Hours" is one of these movies, and the scene of Virginia Woolf at the train station with Leonard is why. The movie was impeccably cast. I don't care if you love the movie, or hate it, or simply do not get it, but pay attention to the casting.


 


 

I cut the paragraph preceding the one praising "The Hours" and then pasted it back in. I'm rambling a bit here, going from movies to superstition to aliens to writings back to movies, and now this paragraph is some sort of kiosk telling you, "You are here" without the red arrow or the weird smell all Malls have because all their food is in the Food Court where it ought to be sentenced to death.


 

So what the hell here, eh? Our superstitions, our beliefs, our fears, all of that stuff, it's fiction, it's real, and it's all locked up in our heads making us who we are, and the people who make films and write create art that speaks to our own mythologies, and that's why we love them so. Please, don't take it the wrong way when I tell you your beliefs are part of your mythology for I'm using the word to the describe what you have inside of you that makes you who you are. Tree, dogs, writing, snakes, and "The Hours" are all part of what makes me who I am, and the fact the film "Titanic" isn't in there may dismay some people who really liked it, but it's the same, I think, inside all of us, simply because it's something, and it is human.


 

Almost all cultures have vampires, what does that tell you about us?


 

Take Care,

Mike

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