A Complete Unknown

This is what I expected. I enter a Dylan biopic more as a critic than an audience member. I figured I'd already know most of the content of the movie, and would just be in it out of curiosity for how they executed, and with any luck, for some profound experience. It ended up just being curiosity. The experience was tame; again, I already know all of these songs and all of these stories far too well. You'd need an artistically adventurous take on Dylan. This was not; this was sheer biopic. So all I have to offer is criticism.

They executed well. It feels pretty faithful, if Hollywoodized at times. It all starts with Dylan himself: Chalamet. I didn't expect to like him in Dune and I really did. Here again I dig him. I got over his voice acting that turned me off the trailer. Got over it quickly. His vocal performance is all in all fairly accurate. Certainly distinguishable, but of a similar character. Sometimes he sings worse than Dylan, other times better. I know the songs well enough to see where he strays. Sometimes he enunciates a word I never understood in the original; other times he obscures a word that deserves more presentation. Overall the character of his voice is close enough. The rest of his performance, besides the voice, conveys Dylan's contrary and aloof natures. He's a pain in the ass. His sentimentality falters when it really matters. He's hopelessly romantic -- hopeless because his ego can't abide anyone else's priorities. Even if he wasn't so musically inspired during this time period, his personality wouldn't accommodate the compromises of enduring romance. It's tragic because he sounds like such a sweetheart in the songs, and the songs suggest he wants to be one (see Blood on the Tracks).

I feel sorry for Suze, though you always wonder how much to blame the clingy one for letting themselves cling. Even if Bob is a jerk, there's still room to blame Suze for falling back into him over and over. Then if you blame Suze for that, you respect her dilemma as she finds the inspiration of her life (perhaps?) in this difficult figure.

Speaking of ambiguous blame, I don't blame Pete Seeger for lamenting Bob's electrification, nor do I blame Bob for electrifying, though both could have been more graceful. Bob has every right to pursue his artistic whims, even if you think H61 is morally and artistically inferior to the protest songs. The folk scene has every right to lament, even if they over-moralize what's really just a confused wunderkind. I don't really buy his folk prophet persona, so when he abandons it, I'm not surprised. He was talented at shapeshifting, which doesn't mean each shape was inauthentic, yet suggests no shape was the whole story as the media likes to compartmentalize. He explicitly and implicitly refuses to be boxed in, because he's a shapeshifter, and that's hard for people to accept. It would be especially hard in 1963, before you know he's a shapeshifter. You just think he's entirely yours. It would be devastating to watch him shift, even if you like rock & roll. It would feel like you were losing a loved one, such was the extent of his identity swings.

The experience was tame for someone who knows the material so well, yet they did it well. It's a legit biopic. They didn't have to resort to abstractions like I'm Not There (though their scope was smaller). It's a real Dylan biopic! The first? It's not easy to do, but they did a good job. Chalamet certainly helped. I'm surprised he bothered himself with this role, auspicious as he is these days. I'm surprised random people seem to like this movie. I guess it's more for them than me, somehow. I don't know why people would care. I'm so used to being the only person around me who cares about Bob Dylan. I don't understand other people's relationships with him, mine feels so ancient and elemental. Of course there's so much I don't know about Bob. He's just been around so long, and been so prolific, it's hard to know him entirely. But I do feel like I'm in the top 1% of the population in terms of Dylan fandom. So it's hard to imagine this movie seeing mainstream success. Yet somehow it's not for me, it's for the 99%. Some of them may join the 1% because of it. Then it's not 1% anymore, is it.

It's a pretty basic biopic, though its deeply original protagonist propels it beyond others. I wish they would have done something more adventurous. It just tells the story. But the fact that it didn't offend me is pretty impressive. It's easy to offend me on these matters.

Edit: People asked what made me cringe in a biopic about a figure I know and love; I didn't have a good answer, but here it is now: the audience whooping and singing along during his acoustic performances. I've never seen such a thing in the videos; in fact, he's been characterized by his attentive audiences. They don't scream through the song, they listen closely to the words. They're mesmerized. They aren't shouting "for the times they are a changin" at each refrain.

    Also, some accurate things are too extreme, like the response at '65 Newport.

Wicked

Elphaba: she was great. When her character was strong, she was strong. When her character hurt, she showed it. It's her character's weakness that didn't come across so well. When her character was desperate, or giddy, the depth evaporated too quickly. Maybe that's just the nature of people her age. Maybe my maturity standards are too high in this coming-of-age story, and I just want a stronger character than this movie should allow. But it felt a little incongruous.

    I'd say the same for her singing. This is an interesting actress, flipping between strength/maturity and desperation/youth in her personality and her singing voice. I can't quite pin her down, not exactly in a good way, but not too bad either. She had moments of powerful black alto, while much of the time she sounded like Sara Bareilles. I was impressed how she flipped back and forth, hitting notes in one voice not suited for the other, or delivering lines in the correct tone. Her versatility in song was just slightly uncanny.

Glinda: other than a few moments when her voice was too soft to enunciate through a choir (this was rough in the first scene with the munchkins; not sure if I should blame the mixers), and other than the fact that they basically had to whiteface her, Ariana was a good match for this role. Though I don't always love her tone, she's obviously top-shelf as a technical singer. It's her comic chops I didn't expect. I forgot she was a child actor. So she can sing, she can act, and she seems easy to get along with. I guess she's one of those hyper-talented yet realistic people that people would envy.

    Though I despise some of her songwriting, I'm going to go ahead and go ahead and having had said sit there and say that I like Ariana Grande. As the as-said, however, I'm not yet sure how I feel about Glinda. She's juuuust turning around... big Jaime Lannister vibes. An utter tool for so long, and still cocky, and with a heart potentially in the wrong place, it's hard to fully come around on them. Jaime finally humbles, and then more finally, goes home to meet his maker. Glinda had such a brief foray into authentic goodness, it's hard to know how authentic. I love them as best friends, though that friendship seems so overshadowed by the "loathing" and by Glinda apparently abandoning Elphaba at the end?? I didn't understand that at all. Glinda for some reason didn't want Elphaba to go. Why? Obviously Elphaba didn't belong there. Then for a moment it seemed they were approaching the ledge together. Then Glinda stayed back. She supported Elphaba's journey, with a cape and a smile, but she stayed back. And Elphaba was not offended. I don't understand that dynamic. It seems that Glinda ultimately does not support Elphaba's leap, and by not supporting it, she doesn't empathize with Elphaba to any depth. That's a big blow to their friendship, and it's strange they parted so lovingly. I don't understand how much Glinda will continue supporting Elphaba. She embraces the Madame at the end. She obviously becomes the "good" foil to Elphaba's "wicked." She rejoices Elphaba's death. I have a theory on that, but I don't understand the immediate dynamic.

Here's my theory on that. Remember when Snape avadakedavra'd Dumbledore, but later we saw the backstory and we loved him for it? What if Elphaba wants Glinda to publicly celebrate her death, out of the same deception that inspired Snape to avadakedavra Dumbledore and Jon Snow to kill his sworn brother? Deception of the enemy. What a moment if GoT wouldn't have explained Jon killing his brother until after the fact. What a moment when we renew faith in our beloved character, when all is vindicated. What a narrative device! In Harry Potter, it melted millions of plastic minds. That generation is intellectually and emotionally founded on the knowledge that Snape was deceiving the dark lord the whole time. That's why they don't trust a single body. Most of those characters turned good or ill; few turned not.

    I wonder if Glinda is deceiving the audience and deceiving the spiteful public by denigrating the wicked witch at said witch's own request. Maybe Elphaba thinks Oz needs Glinda, and they'd never follow her if she allied with Elphaba. That's a sad fact. It's hard to imagine that's the right thing -- for Glinda to malign a good witch to appease a public she should scorn entirely. Maybe there's something deep about how Oz is worth saving even if it can't accept Elphaba. Sounds like Gotham.

    Maybe Elphaba isn't dead, then. Maybe she and Glinda are forever friends, though only in secret, if they ever see each other. Oz can't accept Elphaba, yet Oz is worth saving, so the only solution is to fake Elphaba's death and pretend Glinda helped kill her.

    OR maybe Elphaba actually goes wicked, and Glinda is a right tool. I just doubt this. The beginning of the movie would be so grotesque, actually regardless whether Elphaba went wicked. Even if she went wicked, I don't think that's how they'd paint Glinda. I don't think that's how a good Glinda would act. And I doubt the story abandons both Elphaba's and Glinda's goodness. I think it's more likely it saves both. It would be so astonishing if Elphaba actually went wicked, in anything other than public image. I don't remember enough about The Wizard of Oz to guess whether Elphaba truly goes wicked or whether her wickedness in that movie could be feigned for some obscure higher purpose (Gotham needs a hero, and it must be Glinda, so Elphaba must play the villain). But that only works if her actions in Wizard are not inevitably wicked.

Wicked did a decent job of pandering mainstream humor without sounding absolutely stupid. It bested the new Lion King, probably Barbie, and so many other mainstream movies lately. I hate where comic relief is going in pop movies. It interrupts the action at length for bad jokes. Bad jokes have to be quick. You can't backburner your whole movie for them. Wicked had a few like that, but it wasn't so indulgent, and it had a bunch of decent jokes to offset. Ariana's comic timing helped. She only really indulged the bits where the whole humor was in the indulgence, like fluffing her hair too long. Mostly she was quick. Some people are too quick. I hate that. They mutter a witticism too quickly and quietly and expect everyone to laugh. If you're going to do that, you can't expect people to laugh, you have to just say it for its own sake. Justify the joke in and of itself.

Wicked flew by. When it ended, I thought maybe it was just intermission. It was continuously entertaining. 

I truly have no idea what happens in Part II. Everything I knew about Wicked already happened: Popular, Defying Gravity, meeting the wizard... All I have are guesses. Which is exciting. Unfortunately it'll be long enough till Part II that I'll forget a lot of the details, as well as my emotions for Part I, and I won't want to spend another ~3 hours rewatching Part I, so I'll consider skipping Part II, like I skipped Folie a Deux, after being pretty excited for it.

Wicked wasn't phenomenal; it was successful. I'm not the target audience to connect with Elphaba anyway. The music is pretty good too. It's like Les Mis and West Side Story -- a sort of sophisticated version of pop.

Top vocal performances

Astral Weeks

Bob. I love his Rolling Thunder voice. Also Desire, New Morning, 1963-65

Sia, esp the piano album

That girl in Bridge Over Troubled Water w Collier

Bloody Motherfucking Asshole

Love SZA as a singer

Natasha and Shania

Not top:

Nahko: I love his voice but not always what he does with it

Bon Iver

So much Bob

Gladiator II

I hoped it would be more than an updated-tech Gladiator. Alas it suffered from exactly the same anemia of character. Somehow these two stories don't feel at all like stories but like events. I should care about these characters, but first they'd have to be characters.

Paul Mescal is an interesting choice, in that I'd never heard of him and he isn't glamorous. I guess that matches Russel Crowe, who was also an interesting choice for the latter reason. Mescal was fine, for a role he didn't quite fit and a role that wasn't really a character. He doesn't naturally elicit admiration. He's a modest tough/soft man, not a magnetic leader.

Denzel overacted again. His eccentric phrasing and facial expressions were distracting. That's what you get with most actors once they're canonized. Rotten Tomatoes called him "scene-stealing", which is too true.

Certainly some of the movie was exciting, though in similar portion it was embarrassing. Some of the dialogue and acting were tough, and I'd say the same for the general artistic direction, which isn't usually something I criticize or even distinguish beyond the writing, acting, music, etc. But here I noticed some bad directorial choices. I thought he would have learned something in the past 20 years. And he's a renowned director, right?

The best part was the intro. Some of the violence was good. Everything else was artistically limp at best, childish at worst.

I feel embarrassed on the Hound's behalf. He was so tough and independent in GoT. Here he's subservient and not-burned. He roots for Rome rather than serving himself.

Denzel has all choice of roles, so I'm not embarrassed for him, I just lose a little respect for him.

Am I not entertained: 2.75/4

Movie itself: 1.75/4

Anthony Jeselnik: Bones and All

He hasn't changed much in 15 years. That's okay, I still like him, though it means his jokes have to be really good, for his continued standup to be worthwhile, since they aren't reinventing anything anymore. All of his jokes are good, but most are not good enough to make this special as exciting as when one first encountered him years ago. I laughed maybe twice, though still enjoyed the show in general. He's intelligent enough to consider reinventing himself, innovating the craft. But for now, he's still coasting on his old persona.

Game of Thrones

Ned's head

The red wed

Shireen's dead

Sansa and Ramsay's bed

Apathy

I don't love stuff where everyone is apathetic. Badlands, Breathless, and On the Road ring a bell, if I'm remembering right. Also some literature you'd consider the foundations of existentialism. Apathy in these contexts is billed as profound. Apathetic existentialism never came off to me as the profound existentialism. In my Existentialism Through Literature and Film course I remember thinking "why are we watching Razor's Edge instead of Synecdoche or Interstellar?" Synecdoche and Interstellar are emotionally over-the-top... I'm not saying that's the essence of their existentialism... but their emotional landscape inspired me to act out against the void, where the other pieces I mentioned left me feeling hopeless against it.

NFL

Christian McCaffrey is the only white running back I can think of. He's an inspiration to white aspiring running backs everywhere, proving they can take the last remaining thing black people could feel like was theirs: the running back position.

I'd like to write my thoughts on the conflict between "let them play" and how injuries threaten the joy of football.

Do they threaten the joy of football because they're just a downer? No, it's because franchise players vanish too quickly, meaning a team's fortune turns too quickly. While surprises and pivots are necessary facts of life, the NFL has a choice how much to let them creep in. There's a basic level you'll never avoid, but there are further levels you can prohibit if you change the rules and change the culture. It would be hard, but I would imagine it's possible.

You'd be removing the grisly nature of the sport. That nature probably can't coexist with rigorous injury prevention. So which fans should we accommodate: the fans who love the old-school brutality, or the fans who get invested in players? I dislike the obsession with players nowadays, partly because they come and go so fast, by injury or trade or culture cancellation. Yet a single player can change the fortune of a team, so intelligently rooting for the Packers means hoping for star draft picks, trying to get the ball to your playmakers, and monitoring player development from season to season. Obsession with individual players is a natural outgrowth of team fandom in a sport where one player can make a difference. Basketball is such a sport. I kind of wish football wasn't. So is that the solution? Find some way to devalue the player relative to the team? Then losing a player to injury, in a brutal sport, wouldn't shatter every hope for the team. Football would be more like old-fashioned war, where fate is determined by strategy and spirit (assuming equal numbers on either side) and by the average skill of each man, not by the presence of one or two ubermenschen. I reckon lots of war fiction is unrealistic in that way -- the Iliad is seen as a battle between Achilles and Hector, determined by their relative skill... Aragorn wielding the sword can single-handedly turn a battle... same with Jaime Lannister. In reality, I bet armies live and die by the average skill of a constituent, by their strategy, and by their spirit. The more I think about this, the more I wish football worked that way. Football is nothing like war anymore (if it ever was). It's far too glamorous for the individual ego. If there was a way to make football less dependent on individual players, I wouldn't care so much about individual players, meaning injuries, trades, retirement, and controversy wouldn't be so damned depressing and jarring. It would be a drop in the bucket, the bucket being a team guided by coaching and culture. The coach and staff would elevate in this paradigm; the star player would dim. I think that'd be great.

GNX

What a great album. It bumps, just like "Not Like Us"; I'm guessing that's Mustard I'm detecting, though Kendrick has found a new flow for those types of beats as well. Yet, as on every album, he balances great beats with a couple of long-toothed introspective tracks. It'd be sad if he didn't.

It's getting so hard to rank his albums. I'm still putting TPAB on top. I think that's a combination of nostalgia and superiority. But GKMC, DAMN, MMBS, and GNX are all mingling. GKMC gets the earliness bias. But GNX is honestly one of the best collections of beats I think he's done. It's not his most profound album but the vibes are so strong. He's just cruising. While other rappers are struggling to mold their legacy out of clay, he's just dumping cement all over his. I can't imagine there's anyone more productive in greatness in the history of hip hop. Everyone else either flashed quickly or fell asleep for a while. Kendrick never slept. He had a kid and came out as strong as ever. He continues to innovate, not to the artistic heights of TPAB, but by showing us what's possible in a great and hard-working MC.

Can Kendrick's catalog summarize the entire value of rap? What's missing? He has politics, introspection, city love, violence, wordplay, musicality, great beats, humor, jazz, soul... I guess he doesn't really have rock, but I don't care much about rock rap. Who has something he doesn't have? He's not the funniest rapper, but some of his stuff is pretty funny. Ye did more for rap fusion, but Kendrick is insanely versatile. Does he serve and represent his community as well as someone like Pac or Jay-Z? I'm not sure. I'm so far from those communities. I only see the music itself. Musically, how is Kendrick not the GOAT?

GNX is a straightforward classic.

Sometimes I wish musicians leaned on nostalgia like movies. Every franchise movie is excessively nostalgic. But I would die for Bob Dylan, Kendrick, Bon Iver, anyone to do callbacks to their old stuff. Maybe it's a real artist's nature to press forward.

Game of Thrones

In rewatching numerous episodes I was afraid to rewatch "Baelor." Even seeing the episode Littlefinger betrays him was hard to watch, for the sickness growing in my guts. I summoned the courage for "Baelor" and it was bittersweet. I forgot that was the very episode Robb gets his first victory, a highlight of the entire series. Things are in motion, hope is kindled, all conflict seems to be the standard conflict of entertainment. Then it shatters into, as far as I'm concerned, one of the most crushing events in modern entertainment. The evening I watched that episode the first time, I didn't have time to watch another episode, but I did anyway. I thought I could watch "Baelor", whatever that meant, in this shallow but fun TV show, and move on with my evening. Instead I watched the next episode as well and remained emotionally distant from my friend that evening. I thought about "Baelor" right before falling asleep and right after waking up. This fun TV show became a wound, one I didn't think could heal itself, so I wanted to walk away from it. I was juuuuust invested enough in winter and dragons to persevere, but I never recovered.

Why was it so devastating? I thought there was no way Ned dies. Were there hints? I guess Robert's demise was insightfully sudden. Too sudden. Confusing, in fact, but merely confusing, not devastating, because he wasn't the heart of the show. There was no emotional blow to prepare us for "Baelor" because any emotional blow that occurred was infused with hope that things turn around by the end of the season. Sure, the season was good emotional TV, but always hopeful. "Baelor" destroyed all hope. It made Game of Thrones a world I didn't want to inhabit. Indeed, as I grimaced through the next few seasons, I dreaded Game of Thrones itself, I didn't like living there, I endured it purely for curiosity.

Why write such evil into the story? To make a splash? You made a splash, and you made haters of viewers you want to be lovers. I should be a good fan for Martin. I would think he'd want me to love the series. But I don't, because of things like "Baelor." I don't love GoT, nor ASOIAF. I'm very interested, and quite entertained, but I really don't love them.

I love the world, I love the characters, I love the prose, I resent the story. And that's a big detractor.

Valhalla Rising

Love setting and atmosphere. Could use a little more action. Could use a tiny bit more emotion. This place is desolate.

Frances Ha

How can such a team player keep getting benched, yet stay so positive about it? Frances is the highest-quality form of ineffective, condemned to the sidelines by her sloppiness in a rigorous world, a sloppiness which is also her greatness. You can't motivate her because you can't injure her. In a room of people who are beyond whipping, she's the only delightful one, because her stubbornness isn't vindictive or insane, it's actually more sane, and full of whimsy.

Frances, if at all realistic, is rare.

This is my first Baumbach. It reminded me of Breathless: freewheeling, urban, loose, playful. For a while in the movie I thought the whole world was going to be childish, but then I found out that's just all of the first handful of characters introduced. Once they foil with the real people, it's bitter to realize the light-souled have no place in this world. America elevates dark souls.

Frances is so lovable, with a rich, original performance by Gerwig. The energy of this movie is exceptional.

Maybe I ought to take myself less seriously.

3/4

Game of Thrones

Rhaegar taking Lyanna began unrest in Westeros after hundreds of peaceful years.

Jon Arryn's murder began the North getting embroiled.

Littlefinger blaming the murder and the dagger on Lannisters prohibited the North from looking away.

The Lannisters beheading Ned for refusing to look away began the war.

Lyanna is giving Helen. Is this obvious? Rhaegar is the prince, Paris, that steals her, from I believe Menelaus, Robert. So Robert sails on Troy, King's Landing under the Targaryens. Robert and his Myrmidons win. But in this case Odysseus has no trouble getting home to Winterfell. I guess Martin skipped The Odyssey and assumed the conquerors took over Troy.

Her

So far so good, actually. I loved this movie when it came out, then possibly didn't see it for a decade, while my opinion of it gradually diminished. Why does time favor certain things and diminish others? I associated Her with the romantic immaturity of that time in my life.

Seeing it now, it's actually clever. I doubt it'll prick me like it did then, but it's clever.

I'm only an hour in.

Continuing to watch... wow the emotions of the script and acting here are nuanced. It's starting to make sense why I rocketed it up to my list of 30 or so favorite movies back then after one watch. It has the honest feeling I craved then. Joaquin, Scarlett, Amy, and Rooney really do a nice job.

The downside of this film being so emotionally intelligent is the historic number of times a character says "...you okay?" Nobody got time for that. Sometimes it's just their job to express their concern or deal with it themselves. These characters are too caring! What a utopian dystopia. Maybe it's just Theodore's (Jonze's) circle that's so sensitive.

Back when I used to think I was so empathetic...

Theodore and Catherine talking over divorce papers felt so familiar, on an electrostatic level. This is not only because I've worked with delicate exes but because of Mara's performance. I didn't understand why she gave this movie half a mind until I saw that scene. Actually I had a similar experience with Amy Adams... didn't understand why she gave her humble minor character the time of day, in her lucrative career, until her breakup in the movie. Then she shines through the anti-makeup, glows through her glowdown.

I can't believe I'm saying this may be a great film. It would be way too on-the-nose if released today, but it shone prescient in its time; and even beyond the AI gimmick, the pathos is perfect. Slightly too sentimental for me, yet exact.

Is this how people felt with old cheesy movies though? That Gone with the Wind portrayed authentic emotion? It feels like Her actually does though, timelessly. It feels like good cinema is actually approaching emotional accuracy over time. We'll see how Her looks at 30.

Scarlett is actually my least favorite of the main performances. Maybe she tries extra hard to sound expressive, to compensate the absence of non-verbals and to amplify the uncanny fact that she's a computer, but it's actually too expressive. Exaggerated, almost childish in a few moments. Still mature in other moments though.

I finally finished, after a few sessions. Didn't love the ending. Things just got progressively sappier... didn't we already have a bummer conflict or two? isn't it usually one per movie?... and the resolution wasn't very emotionally satisfying nor very interesting. The premise permitted both, but the movie achieved neither.

Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship

I must be a full fantasy nerd now because I'm claiming Sean Bean suffers two of the most devastating deaths in modern culture. I used to roundly dislike Boromir. This time I dare say he was my dearest character. The moment he first appeared in the movie -- image of the splendor of Ned Stark in glory undimmed before the breaking of the world -- and the moment he lunged to protect Merry and Pippin were two of the most potent for me this time around. Boromir is more tragic than flawed. Yes he's arrogant, yes corruptible by the ring, but over the years I've come to appreciate the ring's power to corrupt. Boromir is tragic in that he, without understanding, flies too close to the sun; through no fault of his own he's the only member of the most corruptible race who ends up in such a tight orbit of the ring.

Gladiator

Gladiator seemed right up my alley, with plenty of accolades behind it, yet managed to be pretty blase. I figure everything that made it exciting in 2000 Game of Thrones leveled up since then. It felt distinctly unviolent, which is a concerning thing to say about a film rated R for "intense, graphic combat." Other adult elements felt censored. And the script was cheesy. GoT is witty-cheesy, but Gladiator was takes-itself-too-seriously-cheesy, tries-to-sound-epic-cheesy. I hate founding an entire assessment on comparison to a like work, but like works totally adjust the value. Gladiator is so much less valuable in the wake of things like GoT. Really the only distinction serving Gladiator was its Roman setting. I enjoy such history. Everything else was a rushed, censored version of a GoT episode. I can't see Gladiator without thinking about GoT, and I can't pretend to enjoy Gladiator just because it predated GoT. I didn't like nor dislike Gladiator -- it was probably epic at the time and now pales beside later epics.

La La Land

Did they win or lose in the end? I'm sure on first watch I thought they lost. Clearly they still feel something for one another -- lingering look at the end, Sebastian plays their melody, Mia replays the fantasy -- so they must be discontent with their current lives. They wouldn't revert to that melody and that fantasy if they were over each other and happy now. Right? At the time, I'd only seriously loved one person. I couldn't really imagine being content while the last relationship lingered. It needed to stop lingering before I could win in the end. But between La La Land viewings I learned that was false. People can love multiple people, especially in different forms, and emotions can return in sharp pulses that don't need to upset your entire life strategy. Mia's strategy is her career, husband, and child, presumably. Sebastian's is his club. Each is successful by that strategy. A sharp pulse of nostalgia, bittersweetness, even regret, needn't invalidate that strategy. It merely illuminates the necessary cost of living, the price of love and loss. They aren't over one another in the sense of total emotional desert. They're over one another (probably, I think the movie says) in the sense that they accepted the sacrifice of the relationship for their other dreams' sake. I remember feeling like Sebastian wasn't quite over it though... I was acutely biased at the time, but he also initiates the reconnect with his song, and he doesn't make a move to sever it like she does by leaving. But he does smile. Maybe he's just accepted she'll inevitably go, and smiling at the inevitable is better than crying. Or maybe he's over it in the sense of acknowledging that relationship is incompatible with his jazz club dream. Or at least it was! while she was in Paris. Maybe it isn't incompatible anymore. Anyway, I feel sorrier for Sebastian, part by bias, part because he does less to announce the end than she does. Yet his dream is the jazz club, and her going to Paris wasn't compatible. Maybe he's over it. She certainly tries to be. Maybe she's not, but anyway it isn't impossible like I previously thought. I thought it was impossible for them to be over it based on their behavior and based on my misperception that loving twice is incoherent. A body leaves a hole; another body fills a part of it, and can add much more; the hole may never be filled entirely, yet you can feel okay, and anyway life isn't about entirely filling every hole. Life never promises completion. Life swiss-cheeses you like Sonny Corleone, to different degrees depending on the person, and most people can mostly recover. Most people still live with those wounds though. Some wounds are irreversible, like Frodo's shoulder. That's okay. We can still find full life. Life needn't be perfect and painless. Pain is part of life. Mia and Sebastian are haunted by their relationship, at least in this sharp pulse, perhaps more often. That doesn't mean they made mistakes, that doesn't mean they should abandon their present lives, as I previously believed. Maybe they just live with the pain.

When I first saw this movie, I didn't know how to live with pain.

J. Cole

To me, now that I've heard some early mixtapes and every solo studio album once, J. Cole is elite and indistinct. Masterful, passionate, consistent beyond compare, yet somehow blending into the background. Obviously this connects to the fact that I literally didn't notice him for so many years. Was that my fault, his, or pure circumstance? Maybe it's on him that he didn't force universal awareness a la Taylor Swift, but that's hardly a bar he needs to meet. Barring that, it's not his fault I didn't catch on to him, as I never tried a single song. I think there's some pure circumstance here; had I been surrounded by Cole advocates in high school, I might have zealously adopted. Bon Iver is an insightful case: he never forced universal awareness, and I don't blame him for it; he also isn't a top-tier artist, yet I love him, because I was around him (literally) in high school and carried him all these years. It's an extreme example -- the bias actually runs too strong -- but Cole is extreme in the other direction -- unusually low favor-bias.

I'm not hearing him at my most sympathetic time. I'm not sure where I'm at with rap these days. Within a standard deviation, rap may have the highest floor of any genre for me, yet the ceiling out to a couple of standard deviations is low. In other words, most rap is decent to me, little is standout. Cole himself is standout, for quality and consistency, but the music doesn't spark much for me.

My taste in rap has changed a little too. I used to love sad rap -- humble, conscious, sentimental. Cole's introspection and Ville love would have hit me just right in middle and high school, maybe even college. Now I'd rather hear a wicked beat from him, polyrhythm, creativity in the theory rather than authenticity in the purpose. I probably still like soft rap, but Cole's early albums are a bygone style, still good but no longer inventive. I guess I need invention, and Cole is disadvantaged by my hearing him so many years too late. He has such a hill to climb to sound inventive so many years later. His later albums sound more inventive, although even those aren't standing out to me like the best rap used to. Will any rap? I still pay a lot of attention to Kendrick, but is he really standing out to me or do I just care because it's Kendrick? Again, I'm not drifting away from rap -- it's such a high floor -- but maybe even the best of it will have a hard time striking me going forward. I don't think I've been amazed by any rap since Kendrick in college, nor distinctly pleased by much since Coloring Book and Flower Boy shortly thereafter (I'm excluding Kendrick there since at this point he's just my guy and I'm generally pleased anytime he does something).

In summary, Cole is so impressive, yet strikes me as unoriginal, partly because I'm too late for him, partly because rap has such a hard time amazing me now, and perhaps partly because he's just a quintessential rapper in good and bad ways. Good because his product is just so solid and captures the spirit of hip hop. Bad because his blending of everyone else's qualities causes him to blend in. Maybe that last bit wasn't true at the time of each album's drop, but it feels true now, in this retrospective.

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

What a transition after La La Land! A real Target -> Walmart maneuver. Not that Kate Winslet is actually the Walmart Emma Stone, but it feels like it in this movie, and much else is a downgrade in glamor. It was almost brutal how unattractive I found the larger part of this movie. Maybe over a decade since I watched it. In high school it was a contender for my favorite movie. What did I see in it? Honest beauty in the relationship. Abandon. Whatever Joel says about the meteor. I loved the music too, which is merely fine to me now. If I liked the high-concept narrative, which stands out to me now as the film's legacy, it was subconscious. I didn't nearly understand it the first two or more times. As such, I missed arguably the best part of the movie, and still called it a favorite. I just loved the honesty.

Now Joel and Clementine are immature to me. I started feeling this way in college. I realized it was odd I loved this movie so much without really liking the characters; I mean that's nothing new, but it's odd for a movie that I love because of the characters... yet I don't like the characters. Joel and Clementine are typically either irritated or irritating. It's hard for me to root for them now.

One thing I pondered this time: they were compelled toward Montauk after science did its best to erase all trace of the relationship. Either the science was imperfect, or the science must be imperfect due to some indeterminate force. Lacuna erased all conscious memory of the relationship but could not touch the subconscious drive. They both race to Montauk without knowing why.

It's not a pretty romance. I'm not sure I'm even happy for them. I'm not sure they'll be happy. La La Land had more romantic potential; even if the cards fall right for Eternal Sunshine, it's not going to be an enviable relationship. But it's real, and they're doing their best. Neither is super compatible with anybody. So either they grow up and manage a mature relationship or they make it work as they are. There's something beautiful about that, even if it's never quite joyful.

The script is really good, from its concept to its dialogue. I just don't love the characters, as people.

La La Land

Like Barbie, it's a slightly confused whirlwind of intentional cheese, unintentional cheese, and indie authenticity. Is this the future of movies? Whiplashing between bubble gum Hollywood and raw reality? La La Land delivers all facade you could ask for of the former, but really shines in the latter.

Its glitz does not run deep. I'm really not impressed by the music in the movie, which is a huge whiff. The original score honestly kinda sucks for a major musical. However you orchestrate it, however many times jazz purist Sebastian plays it, it's not jazz. But it thinks it is, meaning it won't actualize in pop either. I think I would love this movie with a good score.

Another whiff on glitz is Gosling. I've always liked Gosling, but he's drama or he's grounded charisma for me, he's not a showman, he's not a stud. He's not a very good singer. I didn't believe him in Crazy, Stupid, Love either, and the trailers for The Fall Guy look intolerable. I don't buy Gosling like this. He works in humbler ways. He works in the "raw reality" angle I mentioned. In fact, he kills, in that way, like always.

Emma Stone also doesn't work for me as a glamorous singer. During her uncut solo piece, I could only think of how much more I believe Anne Hathaway in hers, in Les Mis. There are polished singer/actors out there, and there are ones who work in humbler, quirkier charisma; Ryan Gosling and Emma Stone are the latter, yet the film tries to use them for both.

The other time I saw this movie, I feel like I was devastated at the end. Now I get it in a way... they missed the mark on each other, but they fulfilled their dreams elsewhere. What are the chances you fulfill your dreams AND end up with the perfect person? Not likely unless that's your only dream. I'm happy for Mia and Sebastian. Those dreams lived with them long before the other person did. The dreams are probably more authentic for them than the relationship is. The relationship is just fun and satisfying, not destiny.

Nothing about Ryan Gosling or his presence in the movie makes me believe he really digs jazz. Another big whiff for the movie, potentially inevitable in that casting. Maybe I'm biased as someone who actually plays the piano.

Ignoring all musical stuff, the film is excellent in many ways. The visuals, the acting, the climactic conflict at dinner... really good stuff. Emma Stone is awesome. Again, all of this is ignoring music. I wish I could love this movie.

Game of Thrones

Which position in Westeros would I want to hold?

Prove every bracket of 2^n entries is good, where n is a positive integer, while not every bracket outside 2^n entries is good.

Suppose n is a positive integer and a bracket has 2^n entries. Since (2^n)/2 = 2^(n-1), which is still an integer (I don't want to prove it), 2^n is even and every game in the first round has two participants i.e. is a good game. If we enforce one winner per game (coin flip tiebreakers), the next round contains (2^n)/2 = 2^(n-1) entries. 2^(n-1) will be even by the same proof as 2^n (I don't want to show it), so the next round is good as well. This will progress as n steps down to 1, the lowest positive integer, in which case 2^n = 2, which I already said was a good game, and one with one winner, who wins the bracket cleanly.

Now suppose a bracket has 3 entries. 3/2 is not an integer, so it can't be in 2^n (I don't want to prove it). By axiom, a game can only involve 2 entries, so there's a remainder. The same can be said of brackets of any odd positive integer (I don't want to prove it). If there's a remainder, and a game can't be formulated, the bracket is bad. So not every bracket outside 2^n entries is good. [square]

Seeds:

1. King of Westeros
2. Hand of Robert
3. Hand of Dany
4. Hand of Bran
5. King in the North
6. Lord of some house+castle
7. Lord Commander of the Nights Watch
8. Younger brother of some ruler
9. Knight
10. Maester
11. Master of Coin
12. Lead Ranger
13. Septon
14. Brother of the Brotherhood
15. Common bannerman
16. Small folk

1v16: Small folk. The King is dethroned instantly. King of Westeros involves so much pressure, so many enemies, control of so many problematic and inter-disputing houses. The pleasure in the power can never offset the pressure in the power for someone like me, nor can I sleep easy thinking I'm saving Westeros, as it'd be hard for me to be a great king, without applying so much pressure to myself to offset said pleasure. Maybe I'd be a good king without much pressure on myself, but it'd be a hurtle in itself to learn to accept I'm a good king and I don't need to be great and I don't need to stress too much.

2v15: Hand of Robert. I just have to go with my gut here. A Hand represents so much of what I covet: competence, intimate respect from the people who matter, and an interesting, substantial occupation. My occupation right now isn't very substantial. The outcomes aren't tangible, the passion is artificial.

3v14: Brotherhood. If you take Dany of Season 6-7 (the real Dany?) I may change my answer. Aren't the Brotherhood always on the lam? I've never been interested in a wanted life, though I enjoy the badassery of ex-knights who look like peasants. I already stated my case for Hand, but Dany in the end is intolerable, and I never liked her too much beforehand anyway. She has good moments, where I'd be proud to serve her, and I could be her close friend, but her proud moments are never pretty.

4v13: Hand of Bran. I already stated my case for Hand, and Bran is a sound king. Not the best king to be Hand for (it must be weird advising a god) but the septons such in GoT. Actually monastic life is not furthest from me, but the septons get a bad rap, and religion in GoT is usually cringe. I doubt the Seven would be my choice.

5v12: King in the North. As in the NCAA, 5v12 is fierce. I love the image of the Lead Ranger, be it Benjen, Jon, or otherwise. Ranger is the coolest job in the Watch, and Lead Ranger is the best of the cool. At the same time it's a miserable life, in the cold, with no women (okay even if I'm sworn to celibacy it's nice to have some variety around), in rundown castles, with little respect from the rest of the realm, and just waiting for horror to arrive. Is King in the North any better? Didn't I already denounce kingship? I did at King's Landing, but Winterfell is different. Northfolk are different. They're more loyal because they can feel winter coming at all times. They're like Wisconsinites. I'm probably biased because I loved the Starks and didn't love many important southerners. But I'm going to ride the Winterfell/Wisconsin image.

6v11: Lord of some house+castle. So many good options, whereas Master of Coin sounds so unheroic.

7v10: Lord Commander of the Nights Watch. Look, some people might call me a nerd. That's not what I want to be. I want to be a light leader, not King of Westeros, but a light leader, charismatic, versatile not just in brains. The maesters of GoT don't give maesterhood a great name, even Samwell, who is such a nerd. I could be more well-rounded. But I'd still be treated as one of the nerds. As I mentioned, Nights Watch is a miserable life, and this was a tough decision. I just went with my gut, because I like the Old Bear and I like Jon, and I respect the position. Maester is a better life, but Lord Commander is more respectable... I probably should have chosen Maester, but oh well, neither of these will win the big dance.

8v9: Younger brother of some ruler. Knights are so stale. All they do is stand around, feigning purity, until it's time to get sliced open. If you're a great fighter, and the crown has many enemies, you could be doing more fighting than standing around, but that's no consolation, however valiant. Fighting and waiting silently to fight is not a great life. If my brother ruled, I could be a trusted advisor and trusted commander without all the weight on my shoulders. And I could live, when I'm not fighting.

New seeds:

1. Small folk
2. Hand of Robert
3. Brotherhood
4. Hand of Bran
5. King in the North
6. Lord of some house+castle
7. Lord Commander of the Nights Watch
8. Younger brother of some ruler

1v8: Younger brother of some ruler. I want to be consequential.

2v7: Hand of Robert. However I admire the Watch, symbolized in Jon and Benjen, it's an unhappy life. However volatile Robert, he's a good man with the right council.

3v6: Lord of some house+castle. So many good options, while the Brotherhood is always running.

4v5: King in the North. Bran doesn't need a Hand other than to make decisions he doesn't have time to make. I'd rather be an important complement to the king, not just a worse second king for when the king doesn't have time. I'd rather be king of a good land than bitch second king of a bad land.

New seeds:

1. Younger brother of some ruler
2. Hand of Robert
3. Lord of some house+castle
4. King in the North

Now we're talkin. These are all options I would have considered if you asked me out of the blue which position I'd like to hold in Westeros. Is Robert the ideal monarch to be Hand for? No, but he may be the best in GoT.

1v4: 

2v3: 

Game of Thrones

The first season is sharp, political, plot-intensive, light on its feet. The last seasons are heavy, dark, personal. The first is cheesier in a Sorkin kind of way, the last cheesier in a James Cameron kind of way. There's so much good writing to squeeze into the first; there's no writing to squeeze into the last, just events, and it shows.

I should write a post solely on the direwolves.

The Long Night and the final War for Westeros should be in separate seasons

The Long Night : Minas Tirith and Mordor : Odysseus slaughters suitors in his home : dark climax

The massacre of King's Landing : The Scouring of the Shire : that weird second battle with the suitors : odd second climax

Ned's death is a stellar collapse, forming a black hole that reverberates throughout the series like gravitational waves.

:'( Ned tells Arya and Sansa "we're going home"... if only!!! It's so terrible watching season 1 progress, knowing how it turns out. Sickening.

Reflecting on the Red Wedding, one year later... Yes, it was shocking. Yes, I expected Robb and Cat to scaffold the show for seasons to come. Yes, it was a massacre. But what singed it on my memory more than any of this was the style of the killings. First was Robb's bride, stabbed out of nowhere. Okay so immediately the imagined future of this house is toppling in sudden fashion. Next is Robb. That's crushing, yet he dies a main character's death, shot by many arrows, refusing to fall, finally ended with a quiet knife in the heart. Crushing, but comprehensible. What floored me was Cat's fate. We're forced to witness an innocent woman's utter despair, and then her utter debasement. Her throat is cut. There's something about that for me. Does everyone feel the same? Even when she delivers the Frey girl the same treatment, I'm stunned. There's something about opening a human's throat. It has to be one of the most dehumanizing deaths. So many deaths would serve Cat better. Not only is her throat cut, the show doesn't even show her falling in slow motion, doesn't play any music, does nothing to romanticize the moment. This woman, full of life, love, legacy, reduced to blood and skin all over the floor in one second. And we have to watch all of that escape her like she's a pig. I felt similarly about her husband's death: shocking from a plot perspective, for sure, but so much more sickening by its execution. The show's very protagonist is dealt like an extra, like an animal. In one bare, blunt moment it's over, all heroism in him collapsed to a heavy body on the floor. It's like observing a quantum -- all of the potential and richness of the wave collapsed at once to a single point. Anyway, all of Cat's humanity spills out in that memorable image. She's treated like an animal not just by the Frey's but by the show. We witness all of her pain.

Taliesin

Three complaints:

• The Eastern decor. I'm not just talking Eastern influence, but pieces pulled straight from Japan and China. If such a central idea to Taliesin is it sprouted organically from the landscape, these pieces are a betrayal, a fetish. I'm using extreme language, you get it.
• The quotes carved into several rooms. Isaiah, Thomas Gray, Whitman, I don't think the text blends well. It's not the content of the text, it's that it's text.
• Structural insecurity. His bedroom is visibly caving in. I'm surprised he didn't know or didn't care about structural standards.

There were moments of wonder, entering a room that's more beautiful and more interesting than any you typically enter, imagining living there, implicitly imagining you're living there without your least favorite parts of your current life. One of the mini houses up by the windmill we passed and the guide said sometimes you can see guests in their robes drinking coffee... I longed for that. Throughout the estate one envisions pleasure and peace, pleasure via peace and peace via pleasure.

The tour was super. I did the four-hour option which was not too long. It was a joy.

SABLE,

That was tough. I hope none of this ends up on any LP. Speyside was the one I'd heard, I thought it fine, and it's the highlight. Otherwise there's some poor writing: lackluster lines of lyric and melodies that miss the mark.

Speyside, though forgettable, was encouraging in its For Emma stylings. I hope we see more of that, and I hope he relearns how to write songs. Since For Emma, he's had at least one good song on every outing, and Big Red Machine was really encouraging despite its stylistic departure. SABLE, is discouraging in that it's the style I wanted but so clearly inferior to how he used to do it.

Game of Thrones

Rewatching the final season, I can see some potential complaints, but they're subtler than the universal disgust would suggest. Maybe that means I was an unsubtle fan when I first watched it. Usually I would consider myself among the subtler side of the mainstream.

Was the Long Night too short?

Would Jaime really side with Cersei in the end?

How can they get away with calling Jon "Aegon"? 

How tragic is Jon's fate?

What happens after the finale?

Would Dany really massacre King's Landing while it surrendered?

I doubt it, but here are some possible motives. Cersei executed Missandei. Jon, soon before, kind of refuses to say he romantically loves Dany, and Dany knows Westeros loves Jon more than her, so she concludes her reign will have to be one of fear rather than love. The first time I saw the final season, I thought Dany just kind of went nuts, improbably so. I guess I can see the motives now, but I still doubt she'd do it. What happened between her massacring her enemies in King's Landing and completely razing the city? She's just sitting on her dragon, listening to the bells, somehow getting angrier... What's going through her head at that moment? If she's a point of view character in the final book, Martin might say. In the show, it seems senseless, and I don't interpret Dany as being senseless, even in her late state of desperation. Varys and Dany's comments about destiny are interesting though. She thinks her destiny is to save Westeros for future generations -- not necessarily for this generation. This generation is expendable for innumerable futures' sake. Kind of true, kind of insane. Varys said the gods flip a coin every time a Targaryen is born. If Dany is the bad side, her transformation is too rushed to feel believable.

Would Jon really slay his queen?

No. He no longer believes in her, understandably, but there's no way murder is the only option, and Jon would weigh the options. Murder wouldn't even be AN option for him, I think. He murders and he revokes his vows, both utterly uncharacteristic. I didn't really think about this the first time around. I thought about "is Jon right to lose faith in Dany? Probably" but not "is it characteristic that he murders here". That's a deeper question for which it helps to read the book. Deeper, but no less obvious: it's uncharacteristic. Losing faith in Dany might even be Jon's flaw -- he's unwilling to make necessary sacrifices (this generation) for greater good (future generations) -- but it's characteristic: he can't support the massacre. Yet he supports deceptive regicide? I doubt it. He's too true to his word and too opposed to criminal killing. He kills Thorne, Slynt and co, but they were the criminals, he was the law.

Which Stark fate do I like most?

Sansa as Queen in the North, Bran as king, Arya as explorer, Jon as (hopefully Lord Commander of the) Night's Watch... While I love to imagine Arya exploring, it's sad she's leaving home and family and it doesn't quite fit her character. She's a killer, a warrior, and a defender of her people. Why is she suddenly so adventurous, at the others' expense? I'd love to be in Arya's shoes: competent, versatile, and exploring. But I feel I'd want a companion or my whole family. Her fate is exciting but sad and slightly off. Sansa's is great. She continually fights for the North, and she gains it. She can stay home, care for what she cares for, see family and friends on occasion but always feel perfectly at home... Rule kindly. I just can't like Sansa as much as Arya and Jon, but her fate is sweet. Jon's is of course quite sad. He deserves all of Westeros and he gets the Wall with no enemies left?? What's the Watch without the Walkers? Just cold? If there's anything to do up there, it's not the worst place for him, but what wrongs can he right up there? Anyway he's a Northman, raised in snow, and there he remains. It's okay, but it's such a fall from kingship and family.

I'd love to try answering more of these questions here... No time at the moment.

Regarding the quality of the final season, I can also see how the dialogue seems a little cheesier than earlier seasons i.e. than Martin.

Game of Thrones

I can see how my sister considered the end of the Long Night anti-climactic. I actually thought the confrontation was great -- though deserved more than one episode -- but once it's over, it doesn't feel like we just saved the world. Things turn quickly to politics and intra-human war, like The Scouring of the Shire after the salvation of Middle Earth.

Watching the Long Night again, I'm remembering how much I like Arya. She was waylaid a while, but she comes back strong in the final two seasons. I said my favor rises and falls with my two favorite characters -- Ned in the first season, Jon in the final 2-3 -- though I could frame it with Arya too. In the first season she's involved in the core action. In the final two she returns to Westeros, returns to the North, returns to her family, and makes a difference. Seasons 1, 6, 7, 8 are my favorites. Season 1 might be the best season, but I really like a lot of what happens in 7-8. My hopes and loves are finally satisfied, after many seasons of despair.

I'm sure Jon is the son of Lyanna and Rhaegar. But how could he be Aegon? Even if Aegon was smuggled out and another baby killed in his place, isn't Aegon's mom Elia Martell? Can't we be pretty confident Elia gave birth to that kid, not Lyanna?

Maybe he isn't Aegon in the books, he's a separate Rhaegar son. Maybe the climax is Aegon, son of Rhaegar's marriage, vs. Jon, son of Rhaegar's true love.

How did the show get away with calling Jon Aegon, when Aegon's mom is Elia?

Packers

I'm invested in Watson. His rise correlated with my rising enthusiasm for the Packers. Caused? Not really, but correlated. It all started with the Love draft. I was disappointed. When Davante was hurt we struggled without a reliable replacement, and the Love pick symbolized for many a denial to give Rodgers a backup weapon. As the first round of the Watson draft expired, it felt like yet another slap in the face to anyone begging for Rodgers targets as a path to the Super Bowl. But hopes turned at the turn of the round. The Packers traded up, if I remember right, for Watson, almost deliberately scaring and then soothing viewers. That he came out of North Dakota made it better; I envisioned midwest D2-ish humility. I was quite pleased with that pick. It all fell down literally and figuratively that first play against the Vikings. It was a bad omen for the season. Watson symbolized resurgence, redundancy with Adams, fresh blood. That's why they threw that pass (in my preferred interpretation) -- to introduce Watson as our fast, very fast track to offensive superiority. Watson flat-out dropped it, and the offense dropped the ball for weeks afterward. Then we played the Cowboys. I was at a bar in Minneapolis watching with some cousins I don't often see. It was so good to watch the Packers with them. Watson caught 3 TDs and it was one of the best Packer memories I cherish. Not only was I growing again as a fan, sharing a moment with fellow adult fans, I was rooting for Watson from the moment he was drafted, and begging for Rodgers to connect with anybody. The Cowboys, I believe, were supposed to be great. Instead the Packers were great. They made a run. I was at that game vs the Vikings. Another lifetime Packer memory. The next one against the Lions was one for the annals of disappointment.

Anyway I'm still invested in Watson. His TD this week was big (I was in attendance and joyous). He's been my favorite Packer receiver since Davante. Is he the best one? I don't know. His performance hasn't been flawless and obviously he's been hella injured. But he's my guy. I'm still rooting for him.

I like Doubs a lot too. He's been so consistent, zero personality on the field, just catching tough balls.

People seem to love Reed. He's not really the body type I like in playmakers. I like slightly meatier running backs than him, and slightly taller receivers. Watson is actually too big; Doubs is close. Reed is small and thin. I've enjoyed having him available, he just hasn't struck me as he seems to have many others I speak to. I need some longevity or personality from him before I'm really calling him a favorite.

No opinion on Melton, Heath, Wicks. I liked Lazard quite a bit as a selfless and reliable #2-3 receiver.

Packers

I know almost nothing about Josh Jacobs. I can't confirm I ever heard his league-leading name before the Packers picked him up (that's how irrelevant the Raiders are to me), and since they picked him up, I've essentially only seen his gametime. I'm not over-the-moon -- Aaron Jones to Josh Jacobs is such a downgrade in excitement, if the first five games are any indication -- but I guess I'm pleasantly surprised that he's just quietly doing his job. In losing the thrill of Jones, what better consolation than a guy who's playing tough, picking up hard yards, and not making any drama about it? If he keeps on like this, I'll appreciate him. I haven't seen ego, that's the thing.

It can all change so fast though. Doubs, the humblest on-field presence, skips practice in dissent of his targets. I seem to remember Clinton-Dix was released because of some locker room complaining; that incident stuck with me as a key development in my emotional distancing from individual players. The best you can hope for is to pretend a player's legacy is immortalized in purity, like Donald Driver's -- always a Packer, always a team player. You can't even hope Driver was actually always a team player, but at least he gives you the pretense to pretend. More likely you can remember players but only attach to the organization. Or maybe the aura of the organization. Even the organization is ugly. Do I really admire Gutekunst? What an ugly name. "Lambeau" -- that's a name. It's all about the facade.

Favre unretired, went to the Vikings, lied about some money, was addicted to some drugs, and supposedly assaulted some women. I haven't read much into these off-field allegations. Why would I? So I can confidently wear or tear my old Favre jersey? I'll just keep remembering Favre as the facade of my young fandom.

Favre: faith in the facade

Doubs: doubt in the double-cross

Lombardi: mythical creature. Soon no one will know Vince Lombardi ever again; only his myth will survive.

Even watching the Packers is pure invention, like math. Axiom: we all care whether the Packers come out on top. If Packers lose, then analyze their playoffs hopes. If they miss the playoffs, then analyze next season's prospects. You can always pretend next season looks good, at least as a Packer fan in the 21st century. If they win the Super Bowl... this is almost worst case scenario, since there's nowhere to go but down, and you're inarguably confronted with the emptiness of your hopes -- not the empty likelihood they're fulfilled, but the emptiness once they're fulfilled.

All I can count on is my desire to watch the games, desire to soak in the culture, and the hazardously ill-defined camaraderie I experience around the idea of the Packers. Is it more positive than negative? I have no idea. Does it depend on whether they're winning? Probably. It depends on whether they're on the up or the down, meaning every game every season roughly averages out, but to a different average depending on their win/lose ratio over the years. ChatGPT says the Packers have won ~63% of their regular season games in my lifetime. I think it's slightly off but in the right ballpark.

J. Cole

The Warm Up and Friday Night Lights

The hunger is there. The wordplay is there. It's just the originality in 2024 that's not there. I missed the J Cole bus. I would have liked this stuff when it was released, though even then I think I was getting past it. Kanye, with perhaps inferior wordsmithing, was surpassing Cole in most other ways at this time. Kanye was actually going too far, but at least he was testing the boundaries. Cole sounds solid and safe. It's hard not to like these mixtapes; it's also hard to love them, 14 years, many innovations, and one Kendrick forward. It needs nostalgia. Actually, it's still really good stuff, lyrically, but the sounds are basic at this point. I could see it representing some kind of golden age though, that I missed. I mean I caught some other rappers then, but I missed Cole, potentially superior or more quintessential if not more lasting. Kanye, Drake, and Eminem stuck around.

Cole World

This is great stuff. His rhymes are advanced, his beats strong. It's sentimental and cerebral like I always liked. It just doesn't hit me. I'm too late for it. Maybe it was never groundbreaking? It's kind of sad, because he's doing such a good job, and he's so driven, and I'm so sober. All-around solid rap, good for him, doesn't make an impact rn.

The consistency is astounding. Every song is good! How does he come up with so many crisp lines?

Game of Thrones

My favor rises and falls with the hopes of my favorite characters. Who are my favorite characters? Ned and Jon. Which are my favorite seasons? The first and the last couple-two-three. Bugger the hopeless middle seasons, I like when Ned lives and Jon ascends.

If I really mine my subconscious, here's how I associate:

S1: Ned, with Robert

S2-5: Robb and Brienne

S6: Jon gasps anew (not sure if that's even in S6)

S7-8: Jon and Dany

Obviously Robb and Brienne are lesser characters, and the association is telling. The middle seasons are miserable folly. Not bad TV, but ugly.

I'm all Ned and later Jon. Maybe if I rewatched I'd feel different.

Gone with the Wind

Act I

Standard old movie, standing out merely in scope: it's longer, using grander sets and scores. I have no investment in the Scarlett/Rhett romance yet. Maybe that's the point. It's creepy; I'm sick of men who seem or are significantly older than those they court. That's another thing, Scarlett seems so young and immature. She's really selfish. Maybe that's the point. Hardly likable. At least Rhett understands his own selfishness. Scarlett is a storm of selfish conflict.

It's interesting to guess the author's angle on the Civil War at this point. The filmmakers may obscure it, but so far it's hard to tell where the moral lands between romanticizing the Old South and acknowledging its necessary downfall. A title card indicts the film for racism; how racist was the author really? Are we just dramatizing the reality of racism here? Is that racist? The film demonizes the Yankees, but that's because the film is through Southern eyes. If it misrepresents Black characters, I'll say it's because the film is through Southern eyes. That explanation works at least for Act I. By the end I wonder how clear it'll be whether the creators support Southern ideals.

I have little romance for the Old South. That separates me from much of the film's original (ecstatic) audience. 78 years lie between the events of Act I and the film's premier. Reversing that span from the present lands me at 1946. Though few people remember events 78 years hence, they may bask in lagging cultural nostalgia. The elderly in 1939 probably felt much nostalgia or at least some polarity toward 1961; the younger audience less so. I'm still fairly young in 2024, but I could probably feel some sentiment toward 1946; and certainly as I age, and 78 years back nears my direct memory, the sentiment grows, positively or negatively or both at once. Also keep in mind I've never lived anywhere near the South. So there's a long blunting bridge between me and the subject of Gone with the Wind. Like Gatsby I see the aura in the distance but it's hazy. Gone with the Wind will not move me like it moved Southern nostalgia and Southern loathing in 1939.

Act II

What a fascinating spiral of misery! One of the most successful films ever, so long and winding and hopeless. The protagonist was a straightforward bitch, not a heartless one but with a heart for no one but herself. This wasn't a love story at all, it was the miserable folly of Scarlett O'Hara, twisting fortune into misfortune. I never expected Rhett's famous line would be aimed at Scarlett, and definitive -- she sucked up every last drop of his love until everything he wanted was before him and he couldn't give one damn. Gone with the Wind is nothing like I expected. How'd an unhappy ending grow so popular? Did people just find the cinematics ravishing? It's an unhappy ending, though a final upturn of the eyes makes one wonder. Scarlett squanders everything, and in the final 30 seconds of an extremely long movie looks up to a curious objective: the land, her home. Can such a physical possession possess so much redemption? She lost the nation she loved, both men she loved, her only friend, and her only child. What can she find at home besides reflection and regret? Nevertheless I love the idea. There are some things can't be taken away; we own those things as individual humans, separable from all humans but ourselves. Losing everyone isn't losing everything.

It's a curious lesson: you can ruin everyone else's lives and still find hope in "the land."

Gone with the Wind reminds me of Lonesome Dove. A long epic you hear is rapturous but ends up feeling cold and hopeless. Gone with the Wind, for its runtime, rushes by tragedy after tragedy, all through its protagonist's heartless eyes. It also reminds me of The Best Years of Our Lives, or what I recall of that pity. Not just miserable as a character but miserable as a viewer. There are sad stories can feel hopeful or inspiring. These stories are hopeless.

Ten years ago I told someone surely Seven Samurai is better than Gone with the Wind, assuming the latter was basic Hollywood. They said that's because I haven't seen Gone with the Wind. I've seen it now, and I don't love it at all. It lacks the artistry of most old classics of world cinema, and it doesn't even deliver a good American romance. Now it's also reminding me of lots of unhappy movies and books -- those seen as profound or even existential in their day but that are really just empty.

Not only was Gone with the Wind unhappy, it was disorganized. I guess that's because the novel was 1000 pages and there's no way to pace that movie. It could have been a miniseries like Lonesome Dove. I'm going to say Lonesome Dove is to the West as Gone with the Wind is to the South, each sweeping and also sweeping aside any emotional coherence. That's natural, life is such a way, but that's not why I'm watching movies. I'd like beautiful escape. Each epic was empty.

Without attempting to assess its cultural impact, how can I give Gone with the Wind even a 2/4?

Why does every poster show Scarlett and Rhett? There's never a happy moment between them. Not a single one!

Edit: Franz Hoellering put it nicely: "a major event in the history of the industry but only a minor achievement in motion-picture art."

Actually, seems like there were lots of measured critics, then and now. Maybe I wasted my time with the Avatar of the 30s.

Another possible indictment of Scarlett's character: she is elated after seeming to be raped. While this could indicate the film is tasteless about women enjoying rape, I think it more likely indicates she only feigned resistance. Her feigned animosity towards Rhett throughout the film is manipulative and ultimately leaves them both miserable and alone. Contrast that with Jane Eyre's measured teasing of Rochester, which lands them a superior relationship. If Scarlett had Jane's discipline and compassion, Gone with the Wind would be a love story.

Also, I hate "Tara's theme."

Another assessment I wrote elsewhere: "...Scarlett was almost insufferable. I expected a good love story but honestly it was miserable at times, with how everyone kept dying or being cruel to one another. Usually I can enjoy bleak movies, but somehow this one felt like a romance that kept failing instead of a movie that really captured the beauty of bleak reality. I mean I appreciate how it embraced tragedy... maybe the real problem is Scarlett. We're seeing 4 hours of film through her bitchy lens. Lol. That's probably too harsh. But I liked Rhett for most of the movie, which made her behavior seem really unjust. The movie would gain a whole new dimension if I felt any empathy for Scarlett. Maybe that's my problem."

Short stories

After a few stories each from Murakami, Hemingway, Kafka, and Joyce (masters, right?), I can't say I understand the form very well. Is art just subtraction? You extensively depict a scene and then subtract half the details and all the meaning before publishing? That's artistic; the artist gave nothing away; it's so authentically vacant. Then why did they write it? And why did I read it?

I haven't disliked any of the four. It's easier to pass my basic test when you're operating in what's not said, in the unseen. Often my contempt goes to the overstated; the understated slides through. It then dodges my love.

Short stories are still an effective vehicle for my gaining traction in prose. I wish I connected better with them.

Black Swan

I can't promise I've seen this since it came out. I went to the theater. I fathomed more symbolism, more thematics this time. It isn't too artsy to be mainstream, but it almost is. I'm impressed how it walks that line. Barbie awkwardly line-danced between indie and mainstream; Black Swan creeps right down the line en pointe. It's one of the most accessible psycho horror movies I've seen, or one of the most unsettling and artistically ambitious hit movies. Ultimately it's a fairly basic movie, sometimes too on-the-nose (Mila Kunis), but well wrought. It could have been longer; maybe it's because I watched in two sittings, but the second felt rushed. Suddenly we were in the climactic performance. Nina flew from timid to menacing very quickly near the end.

If I had an artistic career striking this balance of art and entertainment, I think I'd be pleased. It's good filmmaking, and lots of people will like it. More importantly, it isn't as ego-worshipping (or ego-annihilating) as most of the art I imagine for myself. If you can make Mirror, good for you, but it sounds kind of miserable. If all I ever made was Black Swan and Interstellar, that's not a bad life.

But I'd blush if you called me an artist. Black Swan is art as career, art as talent; Mirror is art as existence, or as close to it as anything distributed broadly enough I'm likely to see it. Ingo's movie in Antkind is really art as existence -- designed to be unseen.

3/4 decent movie

House of the Dragon S1&2

It's well-executed and forgettable. It's all a side story, with the staging of an epic but not the drama. It works for people who just want this universe; it fails for people who want to take something away.

2010: The Year We Make Contact

How can it be so bad? Well, for one, almost nothing is explained or even examined, so the scientific and philosophical depth of the source comes across as half-baked whims. If I hadn't read the book, and certainly if I also hadn't seen the first movie, this would all look stupid. It'd be like the animated Hobbit from the 70s. It just looks like kid fodder, misrepresenting the depth. The 2010 story is well-examined by Clarke; the filmmakers fail to transmit this. And the unexamined sci-fi film is not worth making.

Second, it's artistically blah. Somehow nothing hits. I should be able to define this... yet it's obvious. It's just blah, compared to Kubrick. It's uninspired. Kubrick is singular, this is an infinitely standard 80s movie. The music (Strauss feels forced), the visual style, the acting, the writing,... it's all stale at best, sour at worst.

Third, it's technically blah. How are the special effects better in 1968 than 1984? This film looks older than the elder.

Fourth, it does a poor job of drawing from its source and the earlier movie, both of which it must reconcile. This Floyd is unidentifiable compared to the book and the earlier movie. Chandra is nothing like the book. Curnow (Lithgow) is mind-numbingly unfunny. Nothing about it feels like the earlier movie. It hijacks screenshots and a couple of actors, but bothers not with any of the soul. Spiritually, 2010 is not a sequel. Its opener ("My God, it's full of stars!") ushers the inauthenticity right off the bat. Even if that's Keir Dullea talking, the inflection sounds nothing like Dave of 2001, nor really, I expect, like anyone would sound in that scenario. How could anyone voice-act that line like that?

High points: Mirren putting on a normal performance, and Dave shapeshifting in the pod bay. The shapeshifting was cool, though nowhere near as unsettling or awe-inspiring as in 2001.

It's awe-inspiring how a space movie with such heritage can be so awe-less. Maybe it didn't help I read the book first, so there were no wonders.

1.5/4

2001: A Space Odyssey

2001 still strikes me as a great movie, though no watch compares to the first, terrified teenager as I was. I thought it was just a sequence of ideas without explanation; Kubrick supported this; but Clarke, at least via 2010, explains much. Now I understand my old favorite movie far better than when it was just thrilling images to me. I wish I could get the sensory and conceptual thrill in one go. I never will, for this movie, but I'm mature enough now to find that in future frontiers. As an early high-schooler I missed much.

Objectively since 1968, and subjectively since my first viewing, it holds up in many ways -- a huge achievement for a genre that dates itself so fast. The technical effects are impressive. The story and ideas are of course provocative. More than anything, though, the artistry is subtle. This is what I need out of more movies, especially sci-fi -- the touch of a true artist who is operating on sensibilities the average viewer can't analyze or predict. I mean that's art, yet it's so uncommon. I developed this idea for myself when I read Sylvia Plath in college. I could predict her angle, see her thought process in trying to sound stylish. If I can see the artist through the art -- I don't mean the soul but the effort of the artist to be artistic -- then it's not really artistic. Kubrick does what I haven't really seen before in sci-fi -- hides his effort in his art, hides his context in his art, creates nearly timeless art. Said art isn't the highest art I've seen in movies, but paired with an exciting premise, it's plenty for his objective: "the proverbial good science fiction movie."

2001 was a contender for my favorite movie for a bit in high school. By college Kaufman and PTA dominated that conversation; I was disenchanted by Kubrick's darkness, hedonism, and shallow characters. Kaufman and PTA characters cut so deep back then. I always admired 2001 but it drifted out of mind for at least a decade. Kubrick isn't a character guy; he stages horrible or comical situations (or both at once). There's a limit to how deep that can cut. He also emphasizes the terrible over the lovable, again limiting his effect. Who could call something rooted in fear their favorite compared to something rooted in love? Such is my status between 2001 and LotR. LotR is fearsome and lovable, and sad. Kubrick is generally fearsome. Synecdoche is primarily sad. Fear just isn't a key motivator for me. Some people love horror. Kubrick isn't precisely horror, but fear is one of his biggest strengths. Since early high school, melancholy was more my style. A maj7 or a min7 over a harmonic minor. This difference has diminished over the years -- as melancholy doesn't hit me like it used to, and I need more thrill out of life -- but 2001 wasn't timed quite right. I mean the first watch was perfect -- just what I needed at the time, when I was still edgy and philosophical (Blonde on Blonde), but it (with BoB) waned as I needed more love in life -- hence Synecdoche and sentimental Bob. I think that was the chronology? Now as I seek thrill again (I'm full of love) 2001 isn't new. The thrill was exhausted in high school. Where do I find thrill now? It's harder than it used to be.

I think that chronology was right. It sounds right: Kubrick and amphetamine Bob, then Kaufman / PTA / sentimental Bob, now... I don't know? Nothing has struck me nearly as those did in high school, other than LotR, which seems exceptional, for various reasons. Actually, Harry Potter was a bit of a revelation -- I don't ultra love it but it tapped something deep. Tarkovsky was nice but I'm not confident how much I enjoyed it. I've enjoyed other poppy music/movies/TV... but I'm not sure what really gets me anymore. My favorite movie list especially is so rusty.

House of the Dragon: S2

This weekend I continued House of the Dragon and Clarke's 2010. Both are clearly 3-star-out-of-5 experiences. So why in seven hells am I engaging? This is new territory for me. In college I was 90% through Jane Eyre, a book I loved, and couldn't justify the finish. Later, I left the happiness of Utah despite my host's arguments, because my personal growth was beginning to plateau. Two years ago I probably couldn't have consented to more than one episode of HoD and a handful of pages of 2010. Yet now I continue. This is a stark pivot in my life. For good or ill?

I think the following is obvious, but people's GoT sentiments amazed me, so let's document it anyway: Rhaenyra is the clear hero. There's no "pick a side" drama. The show is named after her house, she's been the heart of the show all along, and she's the most admirable major character. She's also the rightful heir. Who would pick the illegitimate Greens, with Allicent's negligence and her sons' psychosis? Daemon is ambivalent of course. His moments of heroism and loyalty endear me, while his violence and ego repel. Allicent is despicable, not by nature but by deed, which makes her tragic. Aegon's immaturity saves him from being an outright lunatic like Aemond. Viserys was flawed but ultimately decent. I wish I really liked the Velaryons, but Corlys' integrity waves, and those subplots are dull. Rhaenyra is who I'm in for, with Daemon as an engaging sidekick, Aemond as a deplorable villain. So I have a little investment.

But boy what a dull season compared to what could have been. Does all of this ramp-up pay off, or are they just milking it because they know people like me are hopeful enough for a great climax coming? GoT foundered in those middle seasons, I thought. Hopefully HoD rounds up like GoT did. It didn't make it all worthwhile, but it was a little satisfying. HoD is smaller in scope though. This won't turn into summer vs. winter or all realms hurricaning together. It's a relatively petty war of succession. A relatively petty war of succession with dragons.

With HoD and 2010, I'm just interested what happens. This is novel for me, continuing for mere plot curiosity. Such is the way of all flesh, it seems, if not by adolescence then by tired domestic adulthood. But are my growing responsibilities really the reason for my Nestea Plunge into easy entertainment? Or am I just giving up? Or am I actually committing to a new worthy lifestyle? I could see a little of all three. I'm tireder than I used to be, lazier than I used to be, I have more social motive to watch TV, and I'm being YOLO. What does YOLO look like? Drifting carelessly, or seizing every moment? YOLO drove me toward GoT. Maybe I let it drive me too long, past two seasons of HoD. Active YOLO tells me HoD doesn't matter, so don't do it. Passive YOLO tells me HoD doesn't matter, so do it, because you want to. I respond there are two kinds of want: what you'd do given the choice (one answer) and base desire (potentially many). I desire HoD, and I don't think it's horrible for me. Do I want HoD? Not really, I'm just curious. Curiosity drives me stronger than ever in my life, not necessarily because the drive is stronger but because I let it drive longer.

I wish TV shows didn't know how to end a season. I kept almost giving up on GoT, but the very end of a season would spur me GoT-ward. I don't know how actually close I was to giving up on HoD before this season finale, but in those last few minutes the pieces really took motion. I don't want to miss a grand collision. I want to see it in real time, having never missed a beat of rising action. That's how I feel at the start of every football season. If I knew they'd miss the playoffs, maybe I wouldn't watch every minute of every game. But if it's a storybook year, I want to watch every minute of every game. So every year I watch every minute of every game. FOMO.

Game of Thrones: more reflections

Recently someone asked what I would rate GoT out of 10. I said 6... 6.5. Maybe that's misleading -- not only are ratings subjective, rating scales are subjective. Someone who binged GoT less aggressively than I, who was less invested than I, countered it deserved a much higher rating.

Occasionally House of the Dragon causes me to miss GoT. Then I remember GoT. I know people who couldn't care less about certain GoT subplots: Bran north of the wall, "Reek", even Dany in the East. The thing is that was most of GoT for me, especially the acclaimed middle seasons.

For me, GoT could be called "The Stark Arc", or "Winter is Coming." Actually I don't mind "Game of Thrones" or "A Song of Ice and Fire", though those don't hint at the copious subplots. The three things I care about most: the Starks, the winter, and the throne politics. All three took back seats quite often.

I miss GoT, and feel some urge to rewatch portions, until I recall words like "Mereen", "Shae", "Tormund", "many-faced", "Tarth"... actually most people and places and subplots. Lord of the Rings is subplotty, but sticks better to its central quest, and hosts a smaller ensemble. That comparison is unfair since I've dived deeper into LotR than GoT, so the subplots mean more to me. I bet if I read ASOIAF, or rewatched GoT, I'd feel a little different. But I still don't think I'd care enough about the manifold.

Chernobyl

2/4

Chernobyl was: kind of interesting, kind of exciting, kind of well-made. Chernobyl wasn't: really satisfying, really artistic, really authentic.

Banes:

• cheesy dialogue
• actors playing scientists who look like actors trying to play scientists
• choice of which events to depict

Boons:

• sober tone
• historical interest
• scientific exposition

I had to skip sections of silence in the final two episodes. I couldn't justify the time I was pouring into a show that barely egged me. I thought, considering the critical acclaim, something would ignite, literally or figuratively, near the end. The trial was good but the show never got anywhere near excellence. Save phony dialogue, I would have admired the execution.

Chernobyl: E1&2

I heard this was one of the best-rated shows of all time. There must be some mistake, or the finale leap-frogs several levels of quality, or the rating aggregation is meaningless. I'm intrigued by Chernobyl, it's just nothing special. Heroes are absurdly heroic, villains absurdly villainous. Scientists don't speak like scientists -- that's nothing new, see Christopher Nolan among others, but it's such a stupid trend. If Chernobyl isn't dumb itself, it's targeting dumbness. I'm not saying I want movies targeting physicists; rather I want movies with some respect for their audiences, not to assume audiences will put up with such phony dialogue, and with some respect for themselves, not to stoop so low. Why make Chernobyl if you aren't going to make it feel real? The showbiz aura kills the purpose.

House of the Dragon: S1

HOD takes the moral ambiguity of GOT to another level. Rhaenyra is as straightforward a hero as anyone in GOT, until she canoodles with her despicable uncle and lies at length about it. These escapades continue through the years. Her despicable uncle is as straightforward a scoundrel as anyone in GOT, until he becomes her champion. Viserys pivots from gross patriarchy to a sympathetic ending, aided by some astonishing acting.

The comparative ambiguity doesn't end with character ethics. HOD feels ambiguous all around. Which plots deserve my focus? Who is whose child? Why did Martin pause A Song of Ice and Fire for this? Even GOT sported much aimlessness, but the deplored final seasons revealed each trend line. HOD is more aimless, capitalizing on viewers who no longer need coherent stories to escape into, as long as they can escape. Alas, I continue to watch, though I have no love for it.

I do like Rhaenyra, though she perches on a precipice. Daemon needs to prove himself. Viserys has been sympathetic for many episodes but one doesn't forget the first. Criston is very ambiguous. Most characters are ambiguous. Rhaenyra is the flawed hero.

Things certainly got more interesting in this last episode. The map of Westeros sprawls as armies and dragons muster.

The aging is distracting, like in The Irishman. Viserys ages an eternity while Hightower and Rhaenys, both seemingly older than him, stale, hale.

2/4

Saltburn

Big Dickie Greenleaf energy: envy outwitting privilege, homoerotic simmering, skeptical associate who needs to get gone-d, envy becoming privilege, victorious villain. The biggest difference, when the dust settles, is the mood of the triumph: Ripley splinters while Oliver dances. Saltburn is also a movie, substituting Highsmith's literary measure with millennial hedonism. This amounts to a sloppier plot with heightened sensuality. It's a Ripley for the dense soaks of 2024. (Probably worth mentioning I haven't seen 2024's Ripley, which might be the Ripley for the dense soaks of 2024)

I enjoyed Saltburn's sensory and psychic language. It wasn't quite as innovative as I'd hoped, nor honestly quite as shocking, but it engrossed and impressed me enough for a respectable 2.75/4. It's hard for such a sensual movie to hit 3/4.

House of the Dragon: Pilot

Not bad. Prequels are double-edged: fascinating to see the threads converge, and lame to already know the final piece. But ultimately they thrive on nostalgia. This pilot pulls viewers back to Westeros, with enough foreshadowing to feel like a prolonging of Game of Thrones for those who never wanted to leave. I wouldn't mind continuing, but I'm sure I won't. I'd keep subconsciously hoping it'd morph into Game of Thrones, but it never would. It's literally wrong that nothing lasts forever.

The King

The title could suggest the ultimate king story, or the most basic template of one. In this case it's the latter, an uncolored coloring book. Nothing is original, save the experience of watching Robert Pattinson feign a French accent. Thus the title is irritating, though not surprising. That's the trend; see my post on Napoleon. It helped lure me in. The King by no means earns its superlative. If this was a virgin genre, things would be different, but it's trodden enough to lose its lust in unimaginative intercourse. The King thrusts no originality into it. Fortunately for The King, this is still an engaging genre for me, and the movie sustains at least a 6/10 on all fronts. Only maybe two moments were laughable. Chalamet does his job. The warfare stands out. I didn't mind the dumb movie.

Recent music

So far I'm going:

1. Hit me hard and soft
2. Tortured poets department
3. Cowboy carter

All feature good production, good singing, and bad writing. At least Billie is a little more subdued, if immature. She's much younger. The other two are overtly immature at an advanced age.

And I'm going:

1. Kendrick
2. Nobody
3. Some other people
4. Drake

Update: as I finished Hit Me Hard and Soft more of that immaturity came out. I always thought she needed more help with lyrics and melody. The vocals, production, and mood are strong, it's just missing good old-fashioned tune writing. Still, it's Billie or Taylor; Beyonce's album brings up the rear.

Cowboy Carter

I'm through "Alligator Tears" so far. Like Taylor, she's a pop star. That means despite her ballyhooed genre-bending she's basic. That means I can tell exactly what she's doing. I don't like understanding an artist so well, unless the art is piercingly perfect. When Beyonce raps, it sounds like a non-rapper trying to rap. When she tries country it sounds like she's trying country. I say the same of Taylor attempting anything but pop or country-pop. I can see too much of the artist in the art. I said years ago art needs an air of effortlessness. Sylvia Plath was my negative example then. Beyonce is more negative. Her efforts are painfully overt. They don't sound authentic. The first track was the worst so far. I hated it. It sounded so high-effort low-intelligence.

Obviously her physical talents remain. She's a real singer. But the songwriting is rough.

I don't think her country inauthenticity is racial. After all, I said the same things when Hootie went country. (lol)

Almost done now... I almost hate the album. I wonder who wrote the songs. Beyonce must not be a great songwriter, otherwise she would have written these and they'd be good. If she didn't write them, then why couldn't she get better songwriters? She has entirely the fame and finances. She must not have great taste in songwriters.

Well, if the album is no joy to me, I hope at least it injects some soul and dimensionality in the world of country.

Pulp Fiction

Losing luster after 30 years and repeated viewings, Pulp Fiction still stands tall like an oxidizing icon.

3.5/4

Kaufman's "Faust" translation

First scene ("Night")

Disclaimer: I don't know German and I haven't read or seen Faust in any format.

Kaufman is as loyal in technique as any translator -- of any work -- I've identified. When Goethe breaks his pentameter, this way or that, Kaufman follows, this way or that. He rhymes the right lines. It's astounding. I know English is Germanic, but Kaufman leaps through many hoops when the languages lose phase.

German:

Der Herr: Kennst du den Faust?

    Mephistopheles: Den Doktor?

        Der Herr: Meinen Knecht!

            Mephistopheles: Furwahr!

English:

The Lord: Do you know Faust?

    Mephistopheles: The doctor?

        The Lord: Aye, my servant.

            Mephistopheles: Lo!

This is iambic hexameter in both languages (as far as I can interpret the German), and Kaufman shuffles syllables between speakers to make sure of it. This can't be easy, yet he sustains it through many pages.

But it's not just metric loyalty that's impressive; considering that constraint, Kaufman's poetry is a technical achievement. Rigid to the German, it reads like English poetry. Again, I know English is Germanic, but this can't be easy. Kaufman finds rhymes and style to make it all work.

However, a critical caveat lurks: it's hard to follow. Kaufman takes his technical constraints seriously, as I would, at clarity's expense. I almost need SparkNotes. A year ago I might have blamed my own reading comprehension, but I've endured some tough classics lately, and I don't think Faust should be my hardest. Maybe Kaufman is too deep in his heritage of German philosophers.

This makes Faust slow going, for an already slow reader, but I'm not sure I would ask for anything different. Indeed, when I read modern "readable" translations, I ask for technical loyalty or traditional style. Now I have those, and I won't complain about the readability. A translator can hardly achieve it all. But I will acknowledge the readability.

Maybe it will improve. If not, I'll see if I can digest enough of the story to continue, and I'll appreciate the formal achievement. I used to say I was more interested in Shakespeare's language than his drama. Kaufman's Faust is so far an exhibition of the former interest, but I'll see if I can indulge the latter as well, as I proceed.