Mixed Media

Seinfeld: "Documentarians Not Funny." Documentarian: "You Too."

| Fri Mar. 2, 2007 4:57 PM PST
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The statute of limitations for post-Oscar bickering is about to run out, so now's the time to get in some last licks. I'm gonna avoid the just-how-tacky-was-Ellen minefield. So let's focus on another bland and unmemorable Oscar presenter—Jerry Seinfeld. Seinfeld seems to have ticked off at least one filmmaker during his presentation of the Oscar for best documentary. John Sinno, a nominee for the great Iraq in Fragments, just wrote an open letter (not online yet, but posted in full after the jump) to the Academy, criticizing Seinfeld for calling his film and the four other nominees "incredibly depressing":

While I appreciate the role of humor in our lives, Jerry Seinfeld's remarks were made at the expense of thousands of documentary filmmakers and the entire documentary genre. Obviously we make films not for awards or money, although we are glad if we are fortunate enough to receive them. The important thing is to tell stories, whether of people who have been damaged by war, of humankind's reckless attitude toward nature and the environment, or even of the lives and habits of penguins. With his lengthy, dismissive and digressive introduction, Jerry Seinfeld had no time left for any individual description of the five nominated films. And by labeling the documentaries "incredibly depressing," he indirectly told millions of viewers not to bother seeing them because they're nothing but downers.

OK. Maybe it was a bad call to get a guy whose comedy is about "nothing" to introduce films that are about capital-S something. But let's be honest—this year's docs were really depressing. But that's why we like documentary films; they're a needed, if downlifting, reality check. And if it makes Sinno feel better, even the documentary about Seinfeld was a downer. If you ever want to see the story of a man with a moribund career and no interior life to boot, check it out.

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Will Arcade Fire Hit #1?

| Fri Mar. 2, 2007 2:31 PM PST

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I can't believe I'm typing this, but it seems entirely possible that Arcade Fire, the iconoclastic Canadian underground indie-rock mega-combo, may ride a wave of publicity to the top of the US charts this Tuesday (3/6) with their sophomore album Neon Bible. They just performed on SNL (also, apparently, doing an off-stage number right after the show just for the studio audience) and they're all the blogs can talk about. They also remain one of two bands who have ever made me, ahem, misty-eyed at a live performance. (Okay, fine: the other was Low. All those other times, I just had something in my eye, really.)

New Yorker music critic Sasha Frere-Jones was a little late to the party on the Fire, but makes up for it with a fine article this week. He follows the band around to their recent London shows (lucky!!!) and admires their lo-fi tendencies by saying it's "hard to imagine" them ever using a cordless microphone. I found that reference kind of amusing: capping off the aforementioned tear-inducing performance (at Coachella in 2005), lead singer Win Butler unplugged his mic and threw it in a high arc out over the massive crowd (see that at the end of this video here). It sounds silly now, but it was a heart-stopping moment, capping off probably the greatest live show I've ever seen in my life. I guess that doesn't really count as a "cordless mic," though, does it.

I've heard Neon Bible (like anyone with DSL has at this point), and it's great. There probably aren't any breakout hits (like "Rebellion (Lies)" from their debut album Funeral) but that seems kind of the point: the new songs unroll at their own pace, like hymns, without hurrying to a pop "hook." This is a band who adamantly refuse to license any music (even, apparently, for Oscar-winning, if supremely hacky, directors), and who are so DIY, they can manage to screw up a charity single upload. Nothing against Norah Jones, but if they knock her off the #1 spot, it will be kind of exhilarating.

Finally, a Bad Review of "Black Snake Moan"

| Fri Mar. 2, 2007 1:56 PM PST

A Bible-fearing black man—named Lazarus, no less—chains the impossibly thin Christina Ricci's character to a radiator, and for the rest of the film, she roams around almost completely naked fighting off "fits" of nymphomania—when she's not tearing into men like a she-devil.

Sound like a meaningful film, or a cheap excuse to watch a little S&M with a moral (not all black men who chain women to radiators are bad!)?

After reading Feministing's comments last week, I'm inclined to believe the latter. But I've watched in horror as respectable publication after respectable publication has given the movie a decent review.

First, here's Feministing:

Ricci told MTV her character is "a girl who suffers physical flashbacks to a childhood rape. Some women and young girls freak out, panic, and need to cut themselves. [My character] needs to cause herself the same kind of pain when she has panic attacks by having anonymous sex."

Sounds like being chained up in only her underwear and then preached to is exactly the kind of healing process this character needs.

The creepiest thing about the movie, or at least its marketing, is that it's not only about selling Ricci's body. It's about selling the idea of sex with a girl who's been abused and who's clearly got a lot of problems. There's even an interactive feature (if you click on "experience" in the upper left corner -- click here for a screenshot) that allows you to drag two pills across the screen and then watch a video of Ricci collapsing. Now she's yours for the violating!

(By the way, the little line of pills in front of Ricci's mini mini-skirt also look strangely like a female cum shot.)

And here are the "uplifting human drama" reviews.

Salon:

Lazarus comes to realize that she has the "sickness." She's writhing, burning with fever: In her delirium, she dashes out of the cabin, ready to do herself harm. So he chains her to his radiator to rid her of the demons that control her. That's the gimmick of "Black Snake Moan," a gimmick that leads us, like a trail of manna bread crumbs, to the movie's soul. "Black Snake Moan" is ultimately about damaged people helping one another to become their best selves…. Its characters are stereotypes at the beginning, but our focus sharpens as we watch them: They sneak out of the roles we've assigned to them and become people instead.

Washington Post:

But human they are, and that point is driven home in the film's final scenes, which bring the volume level down and unfold with surprising tenderness and emotion. If "Black Snake Moan" is uneven, that's because Brewer has set himself to a higher degree of difficulty than most emerging filmmakers, telling stories rarely seen on screen, with equally rare characters and settings. Craig Brewer is definitely up to something, and it's gratifying to watch him explore new cinematic territory with such conviction and assurance.

Well, thank god the New York Times has stepped up to call bullshit:

Underneath the surface of racial and sexual button pushing, behind the brandished guns and bared breasts, is a heart of pure, buttery cornpone. Like "Hustle & Flow," "Black Snake Moan" joins a dubious stereotype of black manhood to an uplifting, sentimental fable.… Really, though, the character, played...by Samuel L. Jackson, is a tried-and-true Hollywood stock figure: the selfless, spiritually minded African-American who seems to have been put on the earth to help white people work out their self-esteem issues..."Black Snake Moan" is a provocative title, but a more accurate one might be "Chaining Miss Daisy to the Radiator in Her Underwear."

One morning Lazarus finds [Rae, Ricci's character], badly beaten and barely clothed, at the side of the road near his house. He takes her home, washes her wounds and fetches her some medicine. (Only later will it occur to him to fetch her something to wear besides the white underpants and chopped-off T-shirt the camera prefers to see her in.) When she tries to jump on him, he grabs his Bible and flees into the yard, leaving the Good Book open to the verse (missing in my copy) about chains and radiators as instruments of righteousness.

The Times review concludes that the movie produces "not a moan or a howl, but a slow, anxious groan." You just can't try to tell a morality tale about how sexual abuse is damaging and then invite the viewer to lust after the character. The moral of that story is: Hollywood has been doing that since Chinatown—but at least that movie knew what it was doing.

Byline: Angelina Jolie?

| Thu Mar. 1, 2007 3:03 PM PST

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Angelina Jolie, the famous film star, adoptive mom, and UN Goodwill Ambassador, has a new title to add to her resume: journalist. Or at least, that's what the Washington Post seems to think. Ms. Jolie recently penned an op-ed for the Post about her work in Darfur.

The first thing that struck me was, why is a celebrity writing on Darfur? Doesn't WaPo have actual, trained reporters to do those kinds of things? I trust the Washington Post because I assume its writers are well-versed in their fields and have years of experience writing for the media. Having celebs—and I'm sorry, but that's what Angelina Jolie is—write may boost your circulation, but it just furthers the trend, seen on News Wars, of media outlets pushing themselves as entertainment, rather than reliable sources of information.

Speaking of reporting, even though Angelina is a UN Goodwill Ambassador, she can't get into Sudan. A camp in eastern Chad is as close as she can get, the UNHCR told her, because aid workers are increasingly at risk of attack. However, Ms. Jolie did talk to some refugees who asked for better accommodations and war crimes trials for the men who raped, tortured, and killed their families.

"Accountability is a powerful force," Ms. Jolie wrote. "It has the potential to change behavior -- to check aggression by those who are used to acting with impunity. Luis Moreno-Ocampo, chief prosecutor of the International Criminal Court (ICC), has said that genocide is not a crime of passion; it is a calculated offense. He's right. When crimes against humanity are punished consistently and severely, the killers' calculus will change."

The writing sounds more fit for a rubber-chicken fund-raiser dinner than for the Washington Post, but all snarkiness aside, it is brave of Ms. Jolie to leave the sheltered, pampered world of Hollywood and schlep all the way to Africa to witness the aftermath of a violent genocide. And it is admirable that she is working hard to bring awareness to the issue. More than that, it's sad that it takes a movie star to shine a light on the situation. Peace treaties, as Angelina points out, have repeatedly failed. If Angelina, the Tomb Raider, can't make our government sit up and take action, who can?

--Jen Phillips

John Amaechi on Being Gay in Pro Sports

| Thu Mar. 1, 2007 2:43 PM PST

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John Amaechi, the former NBA player who came out earlier this month, only to be publicly bashed by fellow NBA alum Tim Hardaway (whom the NBA then reprimanded), conducted an online chat with the Washington Post earlier today. He has a lot to say about gay issues and life in pro sports. Here are the most alarm-sounding comments.

Amaechi was asked whether he thought black or white communities, the US or the UK were more homophobic. His reply:

I don't think that Europe and the UK is a utopia, but governmental backing of homophobia doesn't exist in the same way it does in America. As for the white and black communities, I think they have a disconnect that is being manipulated by people for political gain. I think both regional and national elections are being won on the back of trumped up bigotry.

Asked whether any of his former teammates had contacted him since he came out, he said, "I have heard from some former teammates from college but not from the pros."


Global Warming...Are You Ready?

| Thu Mar. 1, 2007 9:56 AM PST

Diesel shoppers surely are. I can't believe I missed this. Diesel's new ad campaign for their Spring/Summer '07 collection, is out, and my oh my, just wait until you see what they have in store. The campaign is based on the premise of whether or not you (their client) are ready (Read: Do you have the right clothing and accessories?) for the hot temps of global warming. Yes, this is for real. There is even a video which warns of the dangers associated with a warming climate, but urges fashion lovers not to distress, and instead take action (of course, in the form of bolstering your wardrobe with warm-weather essentials). You really have to see it for yourself.

Keep up on the latest news about global warming at the MoJo science and health blog, The Blue Marble.

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Making Sustainable Design Fun

| Wed Feb. 28, 2007 6:07 PM PST

How could humans become their own renewable source of energy? This is only one of the many questions Myriel Milicevic explored while heading-up the Human Powered Workshop during the Interaction Design Workshop Week in Belgium earlier this month.

Projects participants designed at the workshop include the Dirt Annihilator, a street-cleaning trike, Energy on Wheels, a shopping cart that generates power, and an energy generating rocking chair. The objects were inspired by from a Colombian eco-village and electricity-generating turnstiles in Japanese train stations, among other things.

Organizer Milicevic recently spoke to the folks at the interactive design blog, We-Make-Money-Not-Art. She claimed "there is not much difference between politics and play." This realization was the outcome of a workshop she collaborated on with artist and designer Amy Franceschini, called The Politics of Play. (For another example of the intersection between politics and play, you also might want to check out Amy Franceschini's project, Victory Gardens 2007, currently at the SF MOMA.)

The essence of the Human Powered Workshop and the Politics of Play can be summed up in Myriel Milicevic's statement, "I like to remind people that they can make their own observations, share them,…and see grass-roots movements evolve. People can come up with very powerful and creative solutions even with very limited resources."

You can read more about Milicevic's socially and environmentally concerned design projects on here.


--Rose Miller

One More Thing about the Oscars...Lesbian Attire

| Mon Feb. 26, 2007 2:40 PM PST

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What is a butch (albeit soft butch) dyke to wear to host the Oscars? A dress with lots of makeup, like Jodie Foster (whose walk totally gives it away, anyway)? Or a tux? I'm sure Ellen would rather have worn a full-on tux, but would America really have stood for a dyke in drag, bowtie and all?

I swear, I am no fan of Ellen (on my personal blog I refer to her as Ellen DeRidiculous—let that serve as evidence). But give the dyke a break. I thought her first two outfits were pretty sharp. The last one, not so much. (A butch-on-butch critique: Too clingy in the thighs.) But the MSM has harshed on her again and again. I'm calling homophobia on it—that's right, I'm pulling the gay card.

First of all, this whole armchair fashion critique, not just of the Oscars but also the State of the Union address, is inherently sexist. I mean, guys pull a tux off the rack and voilà. I challenge you to find me a critique of a man in a normal tux.

But here are some jabs at Ellen from places who apparently could have used a memo from the National Center for Lesbian Rights about the butch lesbian's impossible fashion situation (not to pimp my own work, but I think it's fair to say that I hold a significant place in the writing-about-butch-fashion genre, so check here and here).

Salon (teaser line: Ellen was 'Ellish in her tacky leisure suits): Ellen took a contrary approach and went for a casual feel ... too casual. Her red velour leisure suit would have looked right at home playing the Wurlitzer for the State Farm Senior Golf Classic. It appears that hosting daytime TV, in some cases, retards the part of the brain responsible for selecting eveningwear. It was a relief when Ellen changed, midway through, into a slightly more upscale, all white, Usher-esque ensemble, but her third and final outfit of the evening looked like she'd bribed it off of one of the busboys at Musso & Frank's. With bigger mutton chops, she'd have been a dead ringer for Isaac from "The Love Boat."

The mutton chops really exposes the anti-butch agenda here.

Washington Post: New host DeGeneres appeared in a velvet suit with pants and shoes that looked suspiciously like sneakers.

They were white (men's!) dress shoes, I believe.

New York Times: [Ellen] was dressed semiformally in an open collar and red velvet suit on a night that usually commands black tie or white.

Time: Dressed in a too-casual velvet pantsuit, [Ellen] could rouse no more than a few lazy jokes on tired tinseltown subjects…Most pointless politically correct zinger: "If there weren't blacks, Jews and gays, there would be no Oscars." Even Whoopi did better.

I would hardly call her comment pointless, especially in the mouth of the first openly gay host, despite the rather pronounced role of homosexuals in all of the workings of Hollywood.

I'll say it again, I'm no fan of her comedy, but was it really that bad? Especially when she had allegedly been asked to steer clear of politics. And that gay reference was the only gay reference she made all night. (Melissa Etheridge, on the other hand, kissed her wife for which I am so proud that I won't even mention her really, really bad fashion.)

The local rag, the Los Angeles Times, seems to have grasped Ellen's situation:

Chris Rock and Jon Stewart, the last two experimental hosts, came with a little danger, armed with male writers who hate Hollywood; Ellen comes bearing tolerance and yuks, trailing a whiff of patchouli. She's not a mean spirit, she's America's lesbian — a uniter where Rosie O'Donnell (Was she asked to host? Just wondering) is a divider. Give her credit: DeGeneres was hounded off ABC a decade ago amid hard feelings all around that her sexuality had blocked out her comedy, and now here she was back on the network, on its biggest ratings platform of the year.

When is the media going to learn how to handle the L Word? Lesbians are two-plus decades behind gay men...and counting.

Highlights and Lowlights of the Oscars and the Oscars Reviews

| Mon Feb. 26, 2007 11:48 AM PST

Did the reviewer over at Time watch the same Oscars I did? I've never been a huge fan of Ellen DeGeneres, but I was pleasantly surprised. Not so over at Time, where Ellen's performance earned a D. Even the absurdly stupid and time-wasting "Comedian at the Oscars" earned better. The A was reserved for Jerry Seinfeld's totally unoriginal trash-in-the-theaters jokes. Must be a guy thing.

Another clue to their rating system: British accent = "classy." That's what they have to say about Helen Mirren's rather unmemorable presentation with Tom Hanks. Let's not confuse her winning performance with her presentation, mmkay?

The only assessment I agree with is Jennifer Hudson: D. This isn't reality TV where blubbering is warranted. (And what about that costume malfunction during her performance? Close call.) Strangely, the Washington Post review, which is pretty relentless about everything else—notably, and justifiably, the length—singles Hudson out as a highlight. Maybe it was the near breast-sighting.

(Lamest and most transparently sexist remark in the Post review: "DeGeneres didn't seem to have quite the stature of the legendary Oscar hosts of the distant past -- namely Johnny Carson and Bob Hope.")

Can we just get back to the awards please? The people who are genuinely touched to win carry the show, and those expensive montages are the turkey.

Doodie-Head David Brooks vs. Hipster Parents

| Mon Feb. 26, 2007 9:42 AM PST
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I know, I should just ignore David Brooks, especially when he does his grumpy old man routine. But his latest "kids these days" schtick is unusually misguided. (Sorry, no link, the column is behind the NYT content wall.) Yesterday, Brooks tackled the scourge of hipster parents, decrying the "Park Slope alternative Stepford Moms" who are "fascistically turning their children into miniature reproductions of their hipper-than-thou selves." Their sins: Giving their kids pretentious names like Anouschka, making them listen to Radiohead, and dressing them in annoyingly precocious t-shirts. All because they "refuse to face that their days of chaotic, unscheduled moshing are over." (Not to be confused with the orderly, scheduled kind.) This is serious stuff: "The hipster parent trend has been going on too long and it's got to stop."

I'm actually sympathetic to some of Brooks' ranting. I'm a new, un-hip parent who wants my kid to be a sheltered, uncoordinated nerd like I was. I think it's dumb to name your baby Kal-El (unless it's a family name), give him a fauxhawk, and stick him in a Che onesie or a "Boob Man" t-shirt. But I'm not too worried that the progeny of young bobos are being turned into what Brooks calls "deceptive edginess badges"—whatever that means. The trappings of hipster parenting are pretty superficial. New parents are naturally self-absorbed, but behind the impulse to be a cool parent with a stylish kid lurk big questions about mortgages and mortality. I'm with Slate's Michael Agger (also an occasional contributor to Mother Jones), who concludes after reading Neil Pollack's parenting memoir Alternadad, "The difference between an alternadad, a banker dad, and a soccer dad is ultimately aesthetic and pointless. Sure, Pollack is psyched when [his son] Eli develops a love of the Ramones and Spider-Man, but most of his book recounts his struggle to find what America used to offer easily: a solid house, a living wage, a decent public school." Child rearing in the U.S. has always been faddish and consumeristic, but the bottom line hasn't changed much: Parents—even the ones with tattoos—want what's best for their kids. Brooks should put on some Dan Zanes and chill for a couple of years. By then, the hipsters will have gotten the hang of this post-adolescent parenting thing and will be buying minivans. Now that's scary.