If so, let me know if you want to go halfsies on developing my new product: Poop Pants.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Forever is forever
Does anyone else feel a sense of existential dread while watching this?
If so, let me know if you want to go halfsies on developing my new product: Poop Pants.
If so, let me know if you want to go halfsies on developing my new product: Poop Pants.
Saturday, November 26, 2011
Single Malt Report: The Glenlivet Nadurra 16 year old
Distillery: The Glenlivet
Variety: Nadurra (cask strength)
Age: minimum 16 years
Maturation: first ex-bourbon casks
Region: Speyside (Livet)
Alcohol by Volume: 55.1% to 59.7% depending on batch
There are many "The"s in the distillery business. THE Glenrothes, THE Macallan, THE Balvenie, THE Glenlivet. But in The Glenlivet's case, the "The" was actually hard won in court via multiple legal battles. Let's do a little history:
Until 1824, selling whisky in Scotland was illegal. But since it was happening everywhere anyway, and King George 4 wasn't receiving any tax revenue from it, the government created a legal whisky-selling license. George Smith's Glenlivet distillery (parked in the Glen of the River Livet) was the first to obtain it. As the whisky made its way through England and its empire, the name recognition was high for the Glenlivet brand. So other whisky producers anywhere near (and sometimes not near) the River Livet started appending their whisky name with the word "glenlivet". It took decades, but after getting the courts involved, the original distillery gained the ability to add "The" to only their official bottlings.
So that's THE Glenlivet to you.
The Glenlivet and Glenfiddich have, for years, been neck-and-neck as the top whisky sellers in the world. Glenlivet's 12 year can be found everywhere liquor is sold in the US. There's a 15 year old French Oak, as well as two versions (16 and 18 year) of the cask strength Nadurra. Above those come all of their ultra-premium bottlings.
Because of Glenlivet's size, their whiskies are always reasonably priced. That doesn't necessarily mean they're good, but it's nice to be able to buy a single malt and not empty out the checking account. Glenfiddich is priced about the same, and I like their 12 year old considerably more than Glenlivet's. The Glenlivet's 15 year Fine Oak is pretty decent. And I most appreciate the Nadurra series because they're introducing cask strength whisky to the American public at about half the price as other distillers' heavy boozers.
As Glenlivet releases different batches of Nadurra (Gaelic for natural) the actual ABV changes slightly. This is because they are literally bottling the whisky at the alcoholic strength it is in the cask. They've also left it unchillfiltered which is nice since most of the big whisky producers haven't started doing that (for aesthetic reasons).
Way back in September, I reported on four Glenrothes whiskies (here, here, and here) that I had sampled at a whisky tasting at The Daily Pint. Because the tastings at The Pint have a long wait time and because their bar is LOADED with awesome selections and because I like to wake the taste buds up with a pre-tasting drink, I ordered The Glenlivet's Nadurra 16yr beforehand.
I always recommend nosing and tasting a cask strength (CS) neat before adding water. That way you can experience the evolution of scents and flavors as water is later added. Some CSs are well designed and won't blind you and knock you on your ass. Some (like Macallan's CS) are actually better neat. Many aren't.
So I tried Nadurra 16 neatly first. The color was a rosy gold with green undertones. Its nose was the pleasant Glenlivet floral and ALCOHOL BURN! I think I lost nose hairs. Then I took a sip. There was a hint of cream before my tongue and lips went numb.
I've had my share of CSs and very few have had this scorched earth effect. It's fun in theory but frustrating when I want to taste my whisky. So it was time to temper the fire.
I made the whisky:water ratio 2:1, lowering the ABV to about 40%. And out came the scents and flavors! Honey and vanilla jumped on top of the floral nose. The palate was cream, cake, frosting, and cherry. And it finished nicely with notes of caramel and green tea.
All in all, this one proves how whisky can be an enjoyable science experiment. It's also not a bad first cask strength whiskey for folks, especially at this price. Macallan's own CS is finished in sherry casks so the flavor is completely different and it's priced at about the same level. I'd love to see Glenfiddich step up to meet the challenge.
In the meantime, The Glenlivet Nadurra 16 year old is instant whisky, just add water.
Variety: Nadurra (cask strength)
Age: minimum 16 years
Maturation: first ex-bourbon casks
Region: Speyside (Livet)
Alcohol by Volume: 55.1% to 59.7% depending on batch
There are many "The"s in the distillery business. THE Glenrothes, THE Macallan, THE Balvenie, THE Glenlivet. But in The Glenlivet's case, the "The" was actually hard won in court via multiple legal battles. Let's do a little history:
Until 1824, selling whisky in Scotland was illegal. But since it was happening everywhere anyway, and King George 4 wasn't receiving any tax revenue from it, the government created a legal whisky-selling license. George Smith's Glenlivet distillery (parked in the Glen of the River Livet) was the first to obtain it. As the whisky made its way through England and its empire, the name recognition was high for the Glenlivet brand. So other whisky producers anywhere near (and sometimes not near) the River Livet started appending their whisky name with the word "glenlivet". It took decades, but after getting the courts involved, the original distillery gained the ability to add "The" to only their official bottlings.
So that's THE Glenlivet to you.
The Glenlivet and Glenfiddich have, for years, been neck-and-neck as the top whisky sellers in the world. Glenlivet's 12 year can be found everywhere liquor is sold in the US. There's a 15 year old French Oak, as well as two versions (16 and 18 year) of the cask strength Nadurra. Above those come all of their ultra-premium bottlings.
Because of Glenlivet's size, their whiskies are always reasonably priced. That doesn't necessarily mean they're good, but it's nice to be able to buy a single malt and not empty out the checking account. Glenfiddich is priced about the same, and I like their 12 year old considerably more than Glenlivet's. The Glenlivet's 15 year Fine Oak is pretty decent. And I most appreciate the Nadurra series because they're introducing cask strength whisky to the American public at about half the price as other distillers' heavy boozers.
As Glenlivet releases different batches of Nadurra (Gaelic for natural) the actual ABV changes slightly. This is because they are literally bottling the whisky at the alcoholic strength it is in the cask. They've also left it unchillfiltered which is nice since most of the big whisky producers haven't started doing that (for aesthetic reasons).
Way back in September, I reported on four Glenrothes whiskies (here, here, and here) that I had sampled at a whisky tasting at The Daily Pint. Because the tastings at The Pint have a long wait time and because their bar is LOADED with awesome selections and because I like to wake the taste buds up with a pre-tasting drink, I ordered The Glenlivet's Nadurra 16yr beforehand.
I always recommend nosing and tasting a cask strength (CS) neat before adding water. That way you can experience the evolution of scents and flavors as water is later added. Some CSs are well designed and won't blind you and knock you on your ass. Some (like Macallan's CS) are actually better neat. Many aren't.
So I tried Nadurra 16 neatly first. The color was a rosy gold with green undertones. Its nose was the pleasant Glenlivet floral and ALCOHOL BURN! I think I lost nose hairs. Then I took a sip. There was a hint of cream before my tongue and lips went numb.
I've had my share of CSs and very few have had this scorched earth effect. It's fun in theory but frustrating when I want to taste my whisky. So it was time to temper the fire.
I made the whisky:water ratio 2:1, lowering the ABV to about 40%. And out came the scents and flavors! Honey and vanilla jumped on top of the floral nose. The palate was cream, cake, frosting, and cherry. And it finished nicely with notes of caramel and green tea.
All in all, this one proves how whisky can be an enjoyable science experiment. It's also not a bad first cask strength whiskey for folks, especially at this price. Macallan's own CS is finished in sherry casks so the flavor is completely different and it's priced at about the same level. I'd love to see Glenfiddich step up to meet the challenge.
In the meantime, The Glenlivet Nadurra 16 year old is instant whisky, just add water.
Pricing - Good at $55
Rating - 84
Friday, November 25, 2011
George Herman Hitchcock project, Chapter 4B: The 39 Steps
Introduction
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2A and 2B
Chapter 3A and 3B
Chapter 4A
HITCHCOCK
(1931-1935)
continuing from Chapter 4A
Hitchcock had just released the abysmal mess of Number 17. He followed that up with Waltzes from Vienna in 1934, which he too embarrassed about to even discuss. Waltzes is unavailable on home video in the US, which is just as well for me. It becomes difficult to watch him flounder repeatedly after all the promise of Blackmail. His stylings were bursting at the seams in Rich and Strange, but at least were crazy enough to be interesting. In Number 17 there were random bursts of strange angles and camera tricks that awkwardly distracted from the story, as if he was fighting with the film or with boredom.
As I'd quoted at the end of Part A, after the release of 17 and Waltzes Hitch underwent a bit of introspection. He was only going to commit to projects that interested him personally, films that would fully involve his craft.
What remains largely unspoken is that after this period Hitchcock never again had a screenplay credit. Instead he entrusted the writing to others while he focused on direction.
The Man Who Knew Too Much (1934)
Not to be confused with his 1956 Stewart-Day remake, the 1934 version of The Man Who Knew Too Much is an abrupt track change to Hitchcock's career. Working with (at least) five writers, Hitch crafts a classic thriller as if he'd been doing so for his entire career.
As a thriller genre writer, I found this exhilarating. When I use the term "classic thriller" I mean that it fully fits the structural mold of a thriller that we all use today. It's easily pitchable: After a family accidentally discovers a terrorist group's plans, their daughter is kidnapped. If the parents involve the authorities, the bad guys will kill the girl. So they are left to search for her on their own. The first, second, and third acts just pop right out of it.
Thanks to the work of that team of writers (Charles Bennett, D.B. Wyndham-Lewis, Edwin Greenwood, A.R. Rawlinson, and Emlyn Williams) the film is funnier, faster, and leaner than any previous Hitchcock work. There are set-ups and payoffs in theme, character, and story.
The two parents, played by Edna Best and Leslie Banks, transition from a bantering but sexually bored marriage to a smart hard-working team throughout the conflict. The daughter, played by Nova Pilbeam (fantastic name!), arcs from happy-go-lucky to exhausted shock.
Peter Lorre is tremendous as always as the bad guy. He's really one of the great cinematic presences, absolutely nailing character and feeling the moment he steps on screen. Here in The Man Who, he's like an evil Ralph Wiggum, a pudgy little demon. Lorre was also reciting most of his lines phonetically since he'd just left Germany as the Nazis came to power. But one can't see any issues with the language or the dialogue since he looks so comfortable in character.
On top of this great actor direction, Hitchcock's visual style is present only to serve the story. Little is wasted, in direct contrast to Number 17. The lighting progresses from light to dark, white to black, day to night. The suspense in the concerto assassination scene is textbook perfect, shot to shot, devoid of dialogue. And the penultimate police shootout is brutal, dead bodies everywhere.
It all feels like it was directed by an old veteran of the form. Perhaps this is because this director was inventing the form right here. We are told that the assassination will happen during the cantata performance; the gun will go off when the cymbals crash. We hear the piece beforehand on a record, then we're in music hall, we hear the music, we see the cymbals, we see the gun, the cymbals, the cymbals, the cymbals, the gun, the cymbals are lifted, the music rises, and...
The 39 Steps (1935)
Sir Alfred goes on to prove that this wasn't a fluke with The 39 Steps. He brought in Charles Bennett (again) and Ian Hay to adapt the novel by John Buchan. Together they assembled the first solid Wrong Man-themed Hitchcock film and introduced his first Macguffin.
A Canadian tourist (Robert Donat) is visited by a spy who is then killed his apartment. The bad guys frame him for the murder, so he sets off across Scotland to find the lead criminal and prove his own innocence while being chased by the cops and the baddies.
Remove the specifics and that's actually the mold for an entire cinematic genre. The setup could make for a terrifying film, but Hitchcock always keeps the pace moving quickly because he's not aiming for psychological horrors. He's out for thrills.
The film plays pretty steadily and reliably until the third act, when it propels into the stratosphere. Donat gets handcuffed to Madeleine Carroll, a woman who's determined to turn him in. The two are genuinely disgusted with each other and squabble their way up to the ending, when they finally work together to solve the mystery of The 39 Steps. Carroll is (gorgeous and also) phenomenal in a physically demanding role.
And what is this Macguffin thing, mentioned above? It's The 39 Steps. It's the suitcase in Kiss Me Deadly. It's the suitcase in Pulp Fiction. It's the microfilm in North by Northwest. It's the uranium in Notorious. It's the catalyst that gets the story going, the thing that everyone is after, but "it's the device, the gimmick" (Truffaut 138) as Hitchcock says, because ultimately that one item doesn't matter. The story it propels is what's important.
So we get the innocent man on the run, the cool blonde, and the Macguffin all here (and executed well) in a 1935 film. It's all kept to 86 minutes, and nothing is wasted.
Hitch's style has now fully merged with the narrative. As a result there are no flourishes to point out because everything he does here serves the story. That's true mastery of the craft of visual storytelling. He'll make greater cinema, but he couldn't get there without arriving here first.
At this point in their careers, Ruth and Hitchcock seized the rare opportunity they had and showed the beginnings of making good on the promise they'd had earlier. Ruth though very successful on the mound forced his way to the plate by showing his doubters that he could fulfill a previously unknown potential. Hitchcock's early films had become financially profitable enough so that he was getting hired out three times a year to crank out picture after picture. But this sort of achievement was limited, and as his craft began to fray he quickly changed direction and began producing the sort of cinema no one had yet seen. But here, the two big men were merely carpeting the floor. The ceiling lay ahead.
Sources:
Spoto, Donald. The Art Of Alfred Hitchcock. Anchor Books, New York. 1992.
Truffaut, Francois. Hitchcock. Simon & Schuster, Paris. 1984.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2A and 2B
Chapter 3A and 3B
Chapter 4A
HITCHCOCK
(1931-1935)
continuing from Chapter 4A
Hitchcock had just released the abysmal mess of Number 17. He followed that up with Waltzes from Vienna in 1934, which he too embarrassed about to even discuss. Waltzes is unavailable on home video in the US, which is just as well for me. It becomes difficult to watch him flounder repeatedly after all the promise of Blackmail. His stylings were bursting at the seams in Rich and Strange, but at least were crazy enough to be interesting. In Number 17 there were random bursts of strange angles and camera tricks that awkwardly distracted from the story, as if he was fighting with the film or with boredom.
As I'd quoted at the end of Part A, after the release of 17 and Waltzes Hitch underwent a bit of introspection. He was only going to commit to projects that interested him personally, films that would fully involve his craft.
What remains largely unspoken is that after this period Hitchcock never again had a screenplay credit. Instead he entrusted the writing to others while he focused on direction.
The Man Who Knew Too Much (1934)
Not to be confused with his 1956 Stewart-Day remake, the 1934 version of The Man Who Knew Too Much is an abrupt track change to Hitchcock's career. Working with (at least) five writers, Hitch crafts a classic thriller as if he'd been doing so for his entire career.
As a thriller genre writer, I found this exhilarating. When I use the term "classic thriller" I mean that it fully fits the structural mold of a thriller that we all use today. It's easily pitchable: After a family accidentally discovers a terrorist group's plans, their daughter is kidnapped. If the parents involve the authorities, the bad guys will kill the girl. So they are left to search for her on their own. The first, second, and third acts just pop right out of it.
Thanks to the work of that team of writers (Charles Bennett, D.B. Wyndham-Lewis, Edwin Greenwood, A.R. Rawlinson, and Emlyn Williams) the film is funnier, faster, and leaner than any previous Hitchcock work. There are set-ups and payoffs in theme, character, and story.
The two parents, played by Edna Best and Leslie Banks, transition from a bantering but sexually bored marriage to a smart hard-working team throughout the conflict. The daughter, played by Nova Pilbeam (fantastic name!), arcs from happy-go-lucky to exhausted shock.
Peter Lorre is tremendous as always as the bad guy. He's really one of the great cinematic presences, absolutely nailing character and feeling the moment he steps on screen. Here in The Man Who, he's like an evil Ralph Wiggum, a pudgy little demon. Lorre was also reciting most of his lines phonetically since he'd just left Germany as the Nazis came to power. But one can't see any issues with the language or the dialogue since he looks so comfortable in character.
 |
| (Source) |
It all feels like it was directed by an old veteran of the form. Perhaps this is because this director was inventing the form right here. We are told that the assassination will happen during the cantata performance; the gun will go off when the cymbals crash. We hear the piece beforehand on a record, then we're in music hall, we hear the music, we see the cymbals, we see the gun, the cymbals, the cymbals, the cymbals, the gun, the cymbals are lifted, the music rises, and...
The 39 Steps (1935)
Sir Alfred goes on to prove that this wasn't a fluke with The 39 Steps. He brought in Charles Bennett (again) and Ian Hay to adapt the novel by John Buchan. Together they assembled the first solid Wrong Man-themed Hitchcock film and introduced his first Macguffin.
 |
| (Source) |
Remove the specifics and that's actually the mold for an entire cinematic genre. The setup could make for a terrifying film, but Hitchcock always keeps the pace moving quickly because he's not aiming for psychological horrors. He's out for thrills.
The film plays pretty steadily and reliably until the third act, when it propels into the stratosphere. Donat gets handcuffed to Madeleine Carroll, a woman who's determined to turn him in. The two are genuinely disgusted with each other and squabble their way up to the ending, when they finally work together to solve the mystery of The 39 Steps. Carroll is (gorgeous and also) phenomenal in a physically demanding role.
And what is this Macguffin thing, mentioned above? It's The 39 Steps. It's the suitcase in Kiss Me Deadly. It's the suitcase in Pulp Fiction. It's the microfilm in North by Northwest. It's the uranium in Notorious. It's the catalyst that gets the story going, the thing that everyone is after, but "it's the device, the gimmick" (Truffaut 138) as Hitchcock says, because ultimately that one item doesn't matter. The story it propels is what's important.
So we get the innocent man on the run, the cool blonde, and the Macguffin all here (and executed well) in a 1935 film. It's all kept to 86 minutes, and nothing is wasted.
Hitch's style has now fully merged with the narrative. As a result there are no flourishes to point out because everything he does here serves the story. That's true mastery of the craft of visual storytelling. He'll make greater cinema, but he couldn't get there without arriving here first.
At this point in their careers, Ruth and Hitchcock seized the rare opportunity they had and showed the beginnings of making good on the promise they'd had earlier. Ruth though very successful on the mound forced his way to the plate by showing his doubters that he could fulfill a previously unknown potential. Hitchcock's early films had become financially profitable enough so that he was getting hired out three times a year to crank out picture after picture. But this sort of achievement was limited, and as his craft began to fray he quickly changed direction and began producing the sort of cinema no one had yet seen. But here, the two big men were merely carpeting the floor. The ceiling lay ahead.
Sources:
Spoto, Donald. The Art Of Alfred Hitchcock. Anchor Books, New York. 1992.
Truffaut, Francois. Hitchcock. Simon & Schuster, Paris. 1984.
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Bad Movies (a short explanation)
As you can tell from my film posts, I enjoy ridiculing bad films as much as anyone else. Sometimes the criticism is considerably thought through. Sometimes it's not.
I really do try to find something redeemable in all films because all productions, big or small, are created through herculean efforts by their creators. No one sets out to make a bad film. You've seen those eight minute long credit scrolls at the end of a flick. Hundreds of people put their existence on hold, working 16-20 hour days (despite union rules) for months on end to assemble the best product they can with the resources they have. American studio productions are miracles of effort. Sometimes I think of them like living things, created and kept alive by the efforts of countless microscopic cells each performing their function to the utmost of their ability.
But sometimes the result sucks.
And, really, because what we watch is art, the problem is subjective. Something (or many things) about the movie triggers our "This is Crap!" switch. I'm going to attempt to turn the subjective a little bit towards the objective by looking at that Crap Catalyst via the Three E's:
Expectation
Every major film release is powered not only by massive marketing campaigns, but also by our own personal hopes for the product.
On the macro side, tens of millions of dollars are put into posters, ads, trailers, TV spots, tie-ins, toys -- constant visuals (subtle and not) to keep us conscious of the impending opening day. Everyone needs to know about it so that some will go and see it. They'll err on going past the saturation point to maximize expectation and excitement.
On the micro side stands the individual potential customer. We see what's in the theatres. There are remakes, reboots, sequels, and prequels. Then there are adaptations of books, TV shows, video games, board games, plays, comics, toys, and magazine articles. Expectations are built right into these films. That's why they're developed, financed, and released. If we've seen the first movie or read the book or love the video game, our hopes are set, ignited in our consciousness on the lead up to actually seeing the movie. Or, if they're releasing an original film, they've attached the best talent that they can get. This excites those of us craving something (anything!) unique.
Between the macro and the micro forces at work, all of this ginned up expectation is almost impossible to meet and sustain. Especially since we each anticipate something different. Failure is almost inevitable. Wide success is miraculous.
Economics
There are also two sides to the economical concerns. The studio and the audience.
The executives in control of the nine-figure budgets have two roles: hit that budget on the nose and make that money back. Thus all of the large decisions are based around the dollar. A production is greenlighted (not greenlit) when it meets the studio's marketable standards. They hire above-the-line talent whose films have a history of financial success. They set up corporate tie-ins, run audience testing, demand content inclusions and exclusions, all to make sure that this $100,000,000 behemoth turns a profit. That's their career and future right there.
But those economical choices don't always benefit the product. Firstly, the recycled ideas turn many of us off or, at the very least, prime the film for ridicule. Then the talent they've deemed "successful" may not have gained that success via their own labor (see: Sam Worthington, Shia LeBouf, the entire Twilight cast). Just because their last film turned a profit doesn't always mean they'll take that success with them. Past performance does not guarantee future success. And finally, if the content demands by the studio don't blend well with the final product, the audience will notice it. Tacked on endings, Burger King references, colorful sidekicks, forced romantic subplots, softening of darker material -- the audience can pick that up. We watch a lot of stuff every day.
Then there's us. We're the ones paying anywhere from $8 to $18 for the right to sit in the big dark room. We're the ones paying $5-$7 per drink or snack while we sit in the big dark room. Turning over that sort of money to see something that we've never seen before influences the way we judge our movies.
Personally, since I've (almost entirely) stopped seeing movies in theatres and instead watch them via streaming or DVD my negative opinions have eased. It's more difficult to enjoy the small things when massive bright lights are flashing in my face and when I've shed considerable cash. Conversely, it's much harder to be WOWed by cinema when I'm not seeing it in the format for which it was created. But it's been an financial decision. The price of two 3D tickets with one water and one box of candy equals THREE MONTHS of Netflix. I do miss sitting in the cinema to watch cinema, but simultaneously my expectations are more realistic due to a smaller investment of my limited means.
Execution
Ah, the reason I stayed up until 1:30am last night to work on my script.
No matter how hard those hundreds of production staffers work on the film, no matter how well they do their individual jobs, no matter how much money is funneled into the project, no matter how closely the studio monitors the final edits, no matter how great the idea was, no matter the promise, if the execution is off then everything collapses around it. And by execution, I refer to the writing and direction.
Turning an idea into a great story is a true craft. Weaving a story into a great script is an entirely different gift. It's incredibly difficult. And no matter how many consultants, development staffers, and writers are brought in, if that final script doesn't work on the page then it's going to be a disaster on the big screen.
There are infinite ways that a script can fail. Here are a few problems that I've stared down in some of my projects: logic gaps, story flow hiccups, inconsistent characters, weak characters, boring characters, passive characters, on-the-nose dialogue, too subtle dialogue, too much dialogue, bad dialogue, bad endings, bad openings, scenes that don't play out correctly, scenes that go on too long, missing pieces that tie scenes together, slow pacing, insufferable second acts, boring subplots, subplots that are better than the master plot, and lazy choices band-aiding bigger problems.
Then the direction has to keep that story and script afloat, turning the pages into moving pictures. This can be considerably more demanding than the writing. Directors can fumble the pacing, plot, and characters as well and their work is what people see first. They're responsible for tone, performances, and the image. Every square inch of screen space in every second of every scene in a film is an opportunity for failure.
The audience's lives are now packed with visual storytelling, so we will know when films slip up. And we will judge. And we will complain online. When our finances and time are spent watching the story, judgement heightens.
Maximus yells to the crowd, "Are you not entertained?!"
And I yell back, "No! But I liked you in The Insider."
I really do try to find something redeemable in all films because all productions, big or small, are created through herculean efforts by their creators. No one sets out to make a bad film. You've seen those eight minute long credit scrolls at the end of a flick. Hundreds of people put their existence on hold, working 16-20 hour days (despite union rules) for months on end to assemble the best product they can with the resources they have. American studio productions are miracles of effort. Sometimes I think of them like living things, created and kept alive by the efforts of countless microscopic cells each performing their function to the utmost of their ability.
But sometimes the result sucks.
 |
| (Source) |
Expectation
Every major film release is powered not only by massive marketing campaigns, but also by our own personal hopes for the product.
On the macro side, tens of millions of dollars are put into posters, ads, trailers, TV spots, tie-ins, toys -- constant visuals (subtle and not) to keep us conscious of the impending opening day. Everyone needs to know about it so that some will go and see it. They'll err on going past the saturation point to maximize expectation and excitement.
On the micro side stands the individual potential customer. We see what's in the theatres. There are remakes, reboots, sequels, and prequels. Then there are adaptations of books, TV shows, video games, board games, plays, comics, toys, and magazine articles. Expectations are built right into these films. That's why they're developed, financed, and released. If we've seen the first movie or read the book or love the video game, our hopes are set, ignited in our consciousness on the lead up to actually seeing the movie. Or, if they're releasing an original film, they've attached the best talent that they can get. This excites those of us craving something (anything!) unique.
Between the macro and the micro forces at work, all of this ginned up expectation is almost impossible to meet and sustain. Especially since we each anticipate something different. Failure is almost inevitable. Wide success is miraculous.
Economics
There are also two sides to the economical concerns. The studio and the audience.
The executives in control of the nine-figure budgets have two roles: hit that budget on the nose and make that money back. Thus all of the large decisions are based around the dollar. A production is greenlighted (not greenlit) when it meets the studio's marketable standards. They hire above-the-line talent whose films have a history of financial success. They set up corporate tie-ins, run audience testing, demand content inclusions and exclusions, all to make sure that this $100,000,000 behemoth turns a profit. That's their career and future right there.
 |
| Yup. (Source) |
Then there's us. We're the ones paying anywhere from $8 to $18 for the right to sit in the big dark room. We're the ones paying $5-$7 per drink or snack while we sit in the big dark room. Turning over that sort of money to see something that we've never seen before influences the way we judge our movies.
Personally, since I've (almost entirely) stopped seeing movies in theatres and instead watch them via streaming or DVD my negative opinions have eased. It's more difficult to enjoy the small things when massive bright lights are flashing in my face and when I've shed considerable cash. Conversely, it's much harder to be WOWed by cinema when I'm not seeing it in the format for which it was created. But it's been an financial decision. The price of two 3D tickets with one water and one box of candy equals THREE MONTHS of Netflix. I do miss sitting in the cinema to watch cinema, but simultaneously my expectations are more realistic due to a smaller investment of my limited means.
Execution
Ah, the reason I stayed up until 1:30am last night to work on my script.
 |
| Joy. |
Turning an idea into a great story is a true craft. Weaving a story into a great script is an entirely different gift. It's incredibly difficult. And no matter how many consultants, development staffers, and writers are brought in, if that final script doesn't work on the page then it's going to be a disaster on the big screen.
There are infinite ways that a script can fail. Here are a few problems that I've stared down in some of my projects: logic gaps, story flow hiccups, inconsistent characters, weak characters, boring characters, passive characters, on-the-nose dialogue, too subtle dialogue, too much dialogue, bad dialogue, bad endings, bad openings, scenes that don't play out correctly, scenes that go on too long, missing pieces that tie scenes together, slow pacing, insufferable second acts, boring subplots, subplots that are better than the master plot, and lazy choices band-aiding bigger problems.
Then the direction has to keep that story and script afloat, turning the pages into moving pictures. This can be considerably more demanding than the writing. Directors can fumble the pacing, plot, and characters as well and their work is what people see first. They're responsible for tone, performances, and the image. Every square inch of screen space in every second of every scene in a film is an opportunity for failure.
The audience's lives are now packed with visual storytelling, so we will know when films slip up. And we will judge. And we will complain online. When our finances and time are spent watching the story, judgement heightens.
Maximus yells to the crowd, "Are you not entertained?!"
And I yell back, "No! But I liked you in The Insider."
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Trailer Tuesday!
AND THEN THERE WERE THREE...DEE.
With 3D theatrical attendance declining rapidly, three classics(?) are being pushed into theatres next year with the hope that they'll cash in as well as Lion King 3D.
THE PHANTOM MENACE 3D:
After releasing, rereleasing, rereleasing, rereleasing, and rereleasing (not an exaggeration) the Star Wars saga on home video -- after rereleasing and expanding them theatrically -- LucasFilms is squatting and squeezing them out in three dimensions theatrically. Which will be followed by a home video rerelease.
They'll start at the beginning with the unnecessarily poor and BORING Episode I: The Phantom Menace. If I ever question if my distain for this film is overwrought, all I have to do is press play on this trailer. I can't even make it through. Enjoy it in 3D! For $18 a person!
TITANIC 3D:
So let me get this straight, Sir Cameron. You want me to sit in a theatre for over three hours and watch a period piece that takes place on a boat in 3D? Weren't you the guy complaining (here, here, here, and here) about all these new releases that were shot in 2D then upconverted to 3D? Are you not doing that yourself? Has your swimming pool run low on gold bullion?
I could definitely enjoy seeing Kate Winslet nude momentarily in 3D. But I would much rather see a real woman nude in 3D. Without the stupid glasses on. She can wear the glasses though, that would be cool. Which is a natural transition for...
BEAUTY AND THE BEAST 3D:
Super! Now I can watch those weird crummy CGI insert backgrounds in three dimensions! And the mentally-retarded bad guy sidekick who falls down a lot and is never spoken about in polite company too!
The upside to having a daughter: Girls are awesome. The downside: this and everything related to Disney heroines. If I have a daughter, she'll develop role models from Bette Davis and Joan Crawford movies (I mean the early ones, not What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? or Watcher in the Woods or......on second thought, maybe just Myrna Loy and Grace Kelly films).
Back to the point. Thank you Disney for encouraging the $100 night out (without dinner!) for a young family of four during this economy.
Meanwhile the rest of the populace will rock some Hot Pockets and pirated pirate movies. Or affix their monocles, sip cognac, and watch Masterpiece Theatre on PBS. ← ME!
With 3D theatrical attendance declining rapidly, three classics(?) are being pushed into theatres next year with the hope that they'll cash in as well as Lion King 3D.
THE PHANTOM MENACE 3D:
After releasing, rereleasing, rereleasing, rereleasing, and rereleasing (not an exaggeration) the Star Wars saga on home video -- after rereleasing and expanding them theatrically -- LucasFilms is squatting and squeezing them out in three dimensions theatrically. Which will be followed by a home video rerelease.
They'll start at the beginning with the unnecessarily poor and BORING Episode I: The Phantom Menace. If I ever question if my distain for this film is overwrought, all I have to do is press play on this trailer. I can't even make it through. Enjoy it in 3D! For $18 a person!
TITANIC 3D:
So let me get this straight, Sir Cameron. You want me to sit in a theatre for over three hours and watch a period piece that takes place on a boat in 3D? Weren't you the guy complaining (here, here, here, and here) about all these new releases that were shot in 2D then upconverted to 3D? Are you not doing that yourself? Has your swimming pool run low on gold bullion?
I could definitely enjoy seeing Kate Winslet nude momentarily in 3D. But I would much rather see a real woman nude in 3D. Without the stupid glasses on. She can wear the glasses though, that would be cool. Which is a natural transition for...
BEAUTY AND THE BEAST 3D:
Super! Now I can watch those weird crummy CGI insert backgrounds in three dimensions! And the mentally-retarded bad guy sidekick who falls down a lot and is never spoken about in polite company too!
The upside to having a daughter: Girls are awesome. The downside: this and everything related to Disney heroines. If I have a daughter, she'll develop role models from Bette Davis and Joan Crawford movies (I mean the early ones, not What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? or Watcher in the Woods or......on second thought, maybe just Myrna Loy and Grace Kelly films).
Back to the point. Thank you Disney for encouraging the $100 night out (without dinner!) for a young family of four during this economy.
Meanwhile the rest of the populace will rock some Hot Pockets and pirated pirate movies. Or affix their monocles, sip cognac, and watch Masterpiece Theatre on PBS. ← ME!
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Single Malt Report: Taste Off!
This is part of a three-post series on Sauternes-finished single malts:
Day 1: Glenmorangie Nectar d'Or
Day 2: BenRiach 16yr Sauternes Finish
Day 3: Taste Off!
Before we begin, I must answer the question, what the hell is Sauternes?
It is NOT Burgundy. It is NOT a red dry Bordeaux. It is made in the Bordeaux region in France. Its grapes have been hit by the 'noble rot' fungus which makes them raisiny. If they are picked at the right time they can make very sweet dessert wines.
So Sauternes is very sweet wine (with a golden hue) that's often quite pricey due to the delicate balance of 'noble rot' needed. The Sauternes from Chateau D'Yquem isn't even produced in years when the grapes aren't right.
Glenmorangie Nectar d'Or and Benriach 16 year old Sauternes Finish were both finished in casks that had previously used to mature the Premier Cru Sauternes from Chateau D'Yquem.
*Sigh* You gotta know what you're buying, mate. I was such a space cadet with this one. So we'll be going with a little Space Oddity to power the Taste Off:
Aside from their similar wood finishes, both have have a 46% ABV and are unchillfiltered. The BenRiach is made from 16 year old whisky and has its natural color. Nectar d'Or is from 12 year old whisky and, since GlenMo doesn't brag about its coloring, I'll bet it has some caramel coloring added---
But wait! You already reported on these.
Sh*t. Blue Text. Where have you been?
Biding my time. Why are you doing another post about these whiskies?
Good question. The proper way to do a tasting is with more than one whisky. Comparing and contrasting flavors helps hone those taste buds and olfactory receptors. Just make sure to have plain crackers and water on hand to clear out the palate often. Also let the whiskies sit out for some time. Like with wine, oxidation allows for the nose and flavors to open up a bit. What becomes apparent is that with all of these factors the whiskies will change and provide different experiences. You cool now?
Yeah. I'm cool now. Please continue.
Thanks. Here it goes:
Tasting A:
0.6oz, NEAT, in Glencairn nosing glasses, with 25 minutes of breathing time (for the whiskies and I) before commencement...
BenRiach 16 Sauternes Finish:
Nose: Ether burst leads off, then a sweet white wine like Riesling
Palate: Thick textured, creamy, toffee w/o salt, cinnamon, overripe cherries
Finish: Spicy, winey, hot, long
Glenmorangie Nectar d'Or
Nose: Bubble gum, sweet perfume, brandy
Palate: Ripe citrus, apricots, molasses, bubble gum, smoother than BenRiach
Finish: Brief, bananas, cognac
Jeepers, all that oxidation time really changed their structures. And for the better. Comparing and contrasting really helped me find more details in each of these. The GlenMo narrowly wins Tasting A.
Tasting B:
0.5oz, 1 teaspoon of water, lowering the ABV to 36%, in Glencairn nosing glasses, with 10 minutes of breathing time (for the whiskies and I) before commencement...
BenRiach:
Nose: Alcohol calmed a bit, overripe fruit, dessert wine
Palate: So smooth, just creamy dessert wine
Finish: Warm, pleasant, dried fruit, Nestle's milk chocolate, cherry cough syrup
Glenmorangie:
Nose: Delicious candiness, sticky sweet caramels, some hay far underneath
Palate: Better smoother wine, cream filled pastry
Finish: Some of that bubble gum from before, cherry flavoring, bananas
Both are much better with water (and all of that oxidation time). The BenRiach becomes a dessert wine with fruit and milky chocolate, while the Glenmorangie is a sticky creamy pastry. GlenMo wins again, but not by much. Two things have not changed; 1.) these are clearly dessert whiskies, and 2.) there's more wine than whisky. So, approach accordingly.
Day 1: Glenmorangie Nectar d'Or
Day 2: BenRiach 16yr Sauternes Finish
Day 3: Taste Off!
Before we begin, I must answer the question, what the hell is Sauternes?
It is NOT Burgundy. It is NOT a red dry Bordeaux. It is made in the Bordeaux region in France. Its grapes have been hit by the 'noble rot' fungus which makes them raisiny. If they are picked at the right time they can make very sweet dessert wines.
So Sauternes is very sweet wine (with a golden hue) that's often quite pricey due to the delicate balance of 'noble rot' needed. The Sauternes from Chateau D'Yquem isn't even produced in years when the grapes aren't right.
Glenmorangie Nectar d'Or and Benriach 16 year old Sauternes Finish were both finished in casks that had previously used to mature the Premier Cru Sauternes from Chateau D'Yquem.
*Sigh* You gotta know what you're buying, mate. I was such a space cadet with this one. So we'll be going with a little Space Oddity to power the Taste Off:
Aside from their similar wood finishes, both have have a 46% ABV and are unchillfiltered. The BenRiach is made from 16 year old whisky and has its natural color. Nectar d'Or is from 12 year old whisky and, since GlenMo doesn't brag about its coloring, I'll bet it has some caramel coloring added---
But wait! You already reported on these.
Sh*t. Blue Text. Where have you been?
Biding my time. Why are you doing another post about these whiskies?
Good question. The proper way to do a tasting is with more than one whisky. Comparing and contrasting flavors helps hone those taste buds and olfactory receptors. Just make sure to have plain crackers and water on hand to clear out the palate often. Also let the whiskies sit out for some time. Like with wine, oxidation allows for the nose and flavors to open up a bit. What becomes apparent is that with all of these factors the whiskies will change and provide different experiences. You cool now?
Yeah. I'm cool now. Please continue.
Thanks. Here it goes:
Tasting A:
0.6oz, NEAT, in Glencairn nosing glasses, with 25 minutes of breathing time (for the whiskies and I) before commencement...
BenRiach 16 Sauternes Finish:
Nose: Ether burst leads off, then a sweet white wine like Riesling
Palate: Thick textured, creamy, toffee w/o salt, cinnamon, overripe cherries
Finish: Spicy, winey, hot, long
Glenmorangie Nectar d'Or
Nose: Bubble gum, sweet perfume, brandy
Palate: Ripe citrus, apricots, molasses, bubble gum, smoother than BenRiach
Finish: Brief, bananas, cognac
Jeepers, all that oxidation time really changed their structures. And for the better. Comparing and contrasting really helped me find more details in each of these. The GlenMo narrowly wins Tasting A.
Tasting B:
0.5oz, 1 teaspoon of water, lowering the ABV to 36%, in Glencairn nosing glasses, with 10 minutes of breathing time (for the whiskies and I) before commencement...
BenRiach:
Nose: Alcohol calmed a bit, overripe fruit, dessert wine
Palate: So smooth, just creamy dessert wine
Finish: Warm, pleasant, dried fruit, Nestle's milk chocolate, cherry cough syrup
Glenmorangie:
Nose: Delicious candiness, sticky sweet caramels, some hay far underneath
Palate: Better smoother wine, cream filled pastry
Finish: Some of that bubble gum from before, cherry flavoring, bananas
Both are much better with water (and all of that oxidation time). The BenRiach becomes a dessert wine with fruit and milky chocolate, while the Glenmorangie is a sticky creamy pastry. GlenMo wins again, but not by much. Two things have not changed; 1.) these are clearly dessert whiskies, and 2.) there's more wine than whisky. So, approach accordingly.
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Single Malt Report: BenRiach 16yr Sauternes Finish
This is part of a three-post series on Sauternes-finished single malts:
Day 1: Glenmorangie Nectar d'Or
Day 2: BenRiach 16yr Sauternes Finish
Day 3: Taste Off!
Day 1: Glenmorangie Nectar d'Or
Day 2: BenRiach 16yr Sauternes Finish
Day 3: Taste Off!
Distillery: BenRiach
Age: minimum 16 years
Maturation: Sauternes wine casks
Region: Speyside (Lossie)
Alcohol by Volume: 46%
Normally, I focus my Reports on affordable, U.S.-accessible whiskies and try to stay away from ultra-premium or rare or UK-only malts. But I'm making an exception here since this BenRiach 16 year old Sauternes-finished whisky sits in my cabinet. It's not available to purchase in the US, but can easily be found for sale online by UK sellers (my favorites: Royal Mile Whiskies, Master of Malt, and The Whisky Exchange).
So, why did I buy it from Master of Malt without ever having tasted it?
It was a limited release by the distillery, only 1650 bottles worth (probably four casks). The distillery was well-regarded. The price was comparatively reasonable for a limited release. It was meant to counter thevery smoky other purchase (which will remain unnamed until its own Report) I had made at the same time. And like the GlenMo Nectar d'Or, I was very intrigued by a Burgundy-type finish.
We don't hear much about BenRiach in the States, so here's a little bit of their ping-pong history:
The Benriach distillery opened in 1898 right near the Longmorn distillery. Longmorn bought them out then closed them in 1900. Between 1900 and 1965, Benriach continued to do their barley maltings which were then used by their owners. Glenlivet bought them in '65 and reopened the distillery. Seagrams bought them in '77 and released their first single malt in 1994. Chivas bought them in 2001, then immediately shut them down again. A small independent consortium bought them in 2004, renamed them BenRiach, and immediately started their bottlings. BenRiach's Classic range is well regarded, but they've become more known for their dozen or so special-finished whiskies, of which this Sauternes Finish is one.
I sampled this neat and then with two teaspoons of water. The whisky has a 46% ABV, is unchillfiltered, and has its natural color. All good things.
So first, I tried it neat. Its color was a rose-tinted honey. The nose, very fragrant, was toffee, caramel, and lemon zest. The palate...
It was with this first sip, a couple months ago, that I immediately realized that I didn't know what Sauternes actually was. I'm an idiot. The whisky was candy sweet, syrupy, room-temperature-dessert-winey, with butter and little bit of salt. The finish was very long, strong with drier red wine. Enjoyed the finish the most.
Now with the water. No clouding. The nose changed subtly but nicely -- butterscotch and dried apricots. The taste had changed as well. Now it was full of creams, brown sugar, butterscotch candies, and amaretto. It's finish was still big on red wine, a little sour, sticky, but with a final moment of clean linen. That was a nice surprise!
My notes put it succinctly: Dessert, better with water, maybe MORE water next time
Like the Nectar d'Or, this is not an aperitif. It's a candied appetite negator. Its finish is always the highlight. I was a little worried with that first drink, as the stuff in the glass seemed to be more wine than whisky. But adding water transforms it. Though I begin to wonder, shouldn't BenRiach have worked that out that balance before bottling it?
Age: minimum 16 years
Maturation: Sauternes wine casks
Region: Speyside (Lossie)
Alcohol by Volume: 46%
Normally, I focus my Reports on affordable, U.S.-accessible whiskies and try to stay away from ultra-premium or rare or UK-only malts. But I'm making an exception here since this BenRiach 16 year old Sauternes-finished whisky sits in my cabinet. It's not available to purchase in the US, but can easily be found for sale online by UK sellers (my favorites: Royal Mile Whiskies, Master of Malt, and The Whisky Exchange).
So, why did I buy it from Master of Malt without ever having tasted it?
It was a limited release by the distillery, only 1650 bottles worth (probably four casks). The distillery was well-regarded. The price was comparatively reasonable for a limited release. It was meant to counter thevery smoky other purchase (which will remain unnamed until its own Report) I had made at the same time. And like the GlenMo Nectar d'Or, I was very intrigued by a Burgundy-type finish.
We don't hear much about BenRiach in the States, so here's a little bit of their ping-pong history:
The Benriach distillery opened in 1898 right near the Longmorn distillery. Longmorn bought them out then closed them in 1900. Between 1900 and 1965, Benriach continued to do their barley maltings which were then used by their owners. Glenlivet bought them in '65 and reopened the distillery. Seagrams bought them in '77 and released their first single malt in 1994. Chivas bought them in 2001, then immediately shut them down again. A small independent consortium bought them in 2004, renamed them BenRiach, and immediately started their bottlings. BenRiach's Classic range is well regarded, but they've become more known for their dozen or so special-finished whiskies, of which this Sauternes Finish is one.
I sampled this neat and then with two teaspoons of water. The whisky has a 46% ABV, is unchillfiltered, and has its natural color. All good things.
So first, I tried it neat. Its color was a rose-tinted honey. The nose, very fragrant, was toffee, caramel, and lemon zest. The palate...
It was with this first sip, a couple months ago, that I immediately realized that I didn't know what Sauternes actually was. I'm an idiot. The whisky was candy sweet, syrupy, room-temperature-dessert-winey, with butter and little bit of salt. The finish was very long, strong with drier red wine. Enjoyed the finish the most.
Now with the water. No clouding. The nose changed subtly but nicely -- butterscotch and dried apricots. The taste had changed as well. Now it was full of creams, brown sugar, butterscotch candies, and amaretto. It's finish was still big on red wine, a little sour, sticky, but with a final moment of clean linen. That was a nice surprise!
My notes put it succinctly: Dessert, better with water, maybe MORE water next time
Like the Nectar d'Or, this is not an aperitif. It's a candied appetite negator. Its finish is always the highlight. I was a little worried with that first drink, as the stuff in the glass seemed to be more wine than whisky. But adding water transforms it. Though I begin to wonder, shouldn't BenRiach have worked that out that balance before bottling it?
Pricing - Acceptable at $70-$80 (includes int'l shipping)
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