There are some days that I know are going to be challenging from the moment I wake up. Today is undoubtedly one of them. If you're having one of those days too, I wish you well.
In honor of difficult days, here's a video of a man playing a Beethoven piece on his piano for several old, handicapped, injured, and blind elephants in Thailand. I'll let the video speak for itself.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Monday, November 28, 2011
Cyber Monday: Whisky Gifts
Now that the act of giving thanks is behind us, we may now consume products at a rate far beyond our means......but in the form of gifts for other people!
One of the MANY things I love about Kristen's family is that they purchase gifts that the recipients actually want. As opposed to purchasing gifts that the giver likes. For instance, rather than "Happy Hanukkah! Here's a book that I loved about Malaysian Turtle Bone Whittling!", it's more like "Happy Hanukkah! Here's that book you wanted and that movie you wanted and that CD you wanted." Yay! So when I thank them (much too late) it's actually genuine. It's difficult to eek out sincere gratitude about the Malaysian Turtle Bone Whittling book.
What I'm trying to get at is this. If you're going to participate in this bloated consumption party, then it's best to give gifts selflessly, but financially responsibly. If your nephew wants a PS3, ignore him. But if he wants a Linkin Park CD, swallow your distain and buy it for him. Don't get him Miles Davis's Round About Midnight, unless he's of drinking age. If your son wants Trotsky's 3-part biography, give the commie what he wants (if you can find it on sale, 'cuz damn that thing's expensive. Not that I know or anything.).
The only gift recommendations that I'll provide are of the whisky sort. The only authority I have over these things is that I actually have these and enjoy them fully. So....
WHISKY GIFTS
1. Whisky. Because really, it's the greatest gift next to cash. And maybe love.
2. Glencairn whisky glasses
Here's a better pic:
Whiskies can be enjoyed in a tumbler, provided that the whiskey itself is good. The issue with the standard tumbler is that almost all of the aromas escape the drink and completely bypass your nose. And since the flavor sense is highly dependent on olfaction, you're missing a lot of the tastes as well.
The Glencairn glass was engineered with the input of many of the major scotch whisky blenders and is now often used for professional whisky nosings/tastings. So that's the official pitch. But here's what I think works for it:
Aesthetics - It looks great on the table. It looks better in your hand.
Durability - That base is really solid, which makes this a better buy than many other flimsy whisky glasses out there.
Whisky delivery mechanism - The bowl is bulbous like a mini red wine glass or brandy snifter. This allows the aromas to release more fully. Then it tapers up at the top, focusing the nosing goodness and flavor very intensely.
Let me repeat that last note. The whisky nose and flavor will be INTENSE.
Size-wise, a pour up to the bottom of the bowl curve is about 1 oz. Mid bowl is 1.5 oz. Top of the bowl, 2 oz.
My marvelous wife purchased a set of four of these for me for my birthday this year. They've been in constant rotation ever since.
3. Whiskey Stones
My great brother-in-law and his fiancee got me a set of 9 of these for that same birthday. A great birthday.
Made of Vermont Soapstone, these rocks allow you to chill your beverage without watering it down. It also prevents overchilling which can wipe out much of the great whisky scents.
They really work for any hard liquor. But since many whiskies shouldn't be chilled at all (warming the whisky brings out more aromas for better or worse), I recommend these for desserty, sweet, digestif whisky. Or if you don't give a sniff and just want to drink some cool whisky.
They come with a little cloth bag with a drawstring. You stick 'em in the freezer until you want to use them. Then rinse them off with hot water (no soap) when you're done. May I also add, they're very cute.
4. Complete Guide to Single Malt Scotch, 6th Edition
Created and edited by the late Michael Jackson. No, not that one. Rather, the bespectacled, bushy bearded benevolent brilliant whisky writer. Besides covering almost every distillery (current and defunct) and 1000+ bottlings, it also has a ton of educational information about distillation, geography, casks, and history. Recommended for whisky lovers of all levels. You won't even want to read my Single Malt Reports after closing this book. I'm joking! My reports will supplement... the... inf... where are you going?
5. Jim Murray's Whisky Bible 2012
This is the book that gets all of the crazy press whenever it's released. Murray (another awesome writer) reviews over 4500 whiskies here. Yup, I don't know how he does it. But he's very forgiving as a uisge beatha lover, always looking for the positives in his drink. Not much educational stuff outside of the reviews, but the sheer scope and enjoyable writing are the big positives. I don't recommend this for whisky noobs due to how overwhelming it is, and since 99.8% of these whiskies are either defunct, outrageously rare, or unavailable to us Yanks. But if you know your Talisker from your Highland Park while blindfolded, this is an addictive book.
So there they are, my whisky gift recommendations for Chrismahanukwanzakah. May the time you spend with your loved ones be blessed and beautiful.
One of the MANY things I love about Kristen's family is that they purchase gifts that the recipients actually want. As opposed to purchasing gifts that the giver likes. For instance, rather than "Happy Hanukkah! Here's a book that I loved about Malaysian Turtle Bone Whittling!", it's more like "Happy Hanukkah! Here's that book you wanted and that movie you wanted and that CD you wanted." Yay! So when I thank them (much too late) it's actually genuine. It's difficult to eek out sincere gratitude about the Malaysian Turtle Bone Whittling book.
What I'm trying to get at is this. If you're going to participate in this bloated consumption party, then it's best to give gifts selflessly, but financially responsibly. If your nephew wants a PS3, ignore him. But if he wants a Linkin Park CD, swallow your distain and buy it for him. Don't get him Miles Davis's Round About Midnight, unless he's of drinking age. If your son wants Trotsky's 3-part biography, give the commie what he wants (if you can find it on sale, 'cuz damn that thing's expensive. Not that I know or anything.).
The only gift recommendations that I'll provide are of the whisky sort. The only authority I have over these things is that I actually have these and enjoy them fully. So....
WHISKY GIFTS
1. Whisky. Because really, it's the greatest gift next to cash. And maybe love.
2. Glencairn whisky glasses
 |
| What a cute couple. |
Whiskies can be enjoyed in a tumbler, provided that the whiskey itself is good. The issue with the standard tumbler is that almost all of the aromas escape the drink and completely bypass your nose. And since the flavor sense is highly dependent on olfaction, you're missing a lot of the tastes as well.
The Glencairn glass was engineered with the input of many of the major scotch whisky blenders and is now often used for professional whisky nosings/tastings. So that's the official pitch. But here's what I think works for it:
Aesthetics - It looks great on the table. It looks better in your hand.
Durability - That base is really solid, which makes this a better buy than many other flimsy whisky glasses out there.
Whisky delivery mechanism - The bowl is bulbous like a mini red wine glass or brandy snifter. This allows the aromas to release more fully. Then it tapers up at the top, focusing the nosing goodness and flavor very intensely.
Let me repeat that last note. The whisky nose and flavor will be INTENSE.
Size-wise, a pour up to the bottom of the bowl curve is about 1 oz. Mid bowl is 1.5 oz. Top of the bowl, 2 oz.
My marvelous wife purchased a set of four of these for me for my birthday this year. They've been in constant rotation ever since.
3. Whiskey Stones
My great brother-in-law and his fiancee got me a set of 9 of these for that same birthday. A great birthday.
Made of Vermont Soapstone, these rocks allow you to chill your beverage without watering it down. It also prevents overchilling which can wipe out much of the great whisky scents.
They really work for any hard liquor. But since many whiskies shouldn't be chilled at all (warming the whisky brings out more aromas for better or worse), I recommend these for desserty, sweet, digestif whisky. Or if you don't give a sniff and just want to drink some cool whisky.
They come with a little cloth bag with a drawstring. You stick 'em in the freezer until you want to use them. Then rinse them off with hot water (no soap) when you're done. May I also add, they're very cute.
4. Complete Guide to Single Malt Scotch, 6th Edition
Created and edited by the late Michael Jackson. No, not that one. Rather, the bespectacled, bushy bearded benevolent brilliant whisky writer. Besides covering almost every distillery (current and defunct) and 1000+ bottlings, it also has a ton of educational information about distillation, geography, casks, and history. Recommended for whisky lovers of all levels. You won't even want to read my Single Malt Reports after closing this book. I'm joking! My reports will supplement... the... inf... where are you going?
5. Jim Murray's Whisky Bible 2012
This is the book that gets all of the crazy press whenever it's released. Murray (another awesome writer) reviews over 4500 whiskies here. Yup, I don't know how he does it. But he's very forgiving as a uisge beatha lover, always looking for the positives in his drink. Not much educational stuff outside of the reviews, but the sheer scope and enjoyable writing are the big positives. I don't recommend this for whisky noobs due to how overwhelming it is, and since 99.8% of these whiskies are either defunct, outrageously rare, or unavailable to us Yanks. But if you know your Talisker from your Highland Park while blindfolded, this is an addictive book.
So there they are, my whisky gift recommendations for Chrismahanukwanzakah. May the time you spend with your loved ones be blessed and beautiful.
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!
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