Justified (Season 1, Episodes 1-5) – As previously written, I love Timothy Olyphant. Absolutely love him. And this show has done nothing to change my view on him. I think I like him here more than in Deadwood, not the show mind you, but him. (He has more to do here than in Deadwood.)

Justified just hasn’t seemed to hit its stride yet. It’s still drawing its characters, which is fine by me. It reminds me a lot of Sons of Anarchy, it seems to be using the first season to find its way. Or its just waiting for Walton Goggins’ character to get healthy enough to start some shit. Can’t tell which.

Party Down (Season 1, Episodes 1-3) – I think that when I have children, and if they decide to become actors, I will think of this show and pray this isn’t what they do for a day job. The disillusionment that these characters suffer from, while either chasing impossible dreams or giving up on said dreams, is unfathomable.

In Party Down, though, that disillusionment is why these characters are funny. They seem resigned, as if they all know they’re going nowhere (except Ken Marino), but that isn’t stopping them from trying. They’re misguided attempts at success are fantastic. They’re infighting is great. The burning American flag is also very fitting. (It makes sense if you see it.)

Thank god this is a comedy, cause this show would be unwatchable otherwise.

Angel (Season 1, Episode 1) – Joss Whedon fan through and through. (That’s out of the way then.) It’s nice to come back to the beginning of Angel, a series that I’ve really only watched in passing, on TNT. The first episode has dated, and the vampire make-up is still … well not to my liking, but Whedon does here what Whedon does best – Kill characters who you don’t expect to die. The beginning of this series is sort of paint by numbers save two really nice scenes: 1) The killing of one of the characters, and 2) Cordelia’s realization that she’s in the presence of a vampire. I look forward to continuing with this show.

Gilmore Girls (Season 1, Episodes 1-8) – This show angers me. It’s not that it’s bad. It’s just hard. The mother-daughter (Lorelai-Emily) relationship is so irreconcilable that it I can’t watch too much of the show at anytime.

But it is good.

One of the things that brings me back to the show, is everyone seems to be having such a great time performing in it. I don’t know if I can express it in words, but there is a joy that seems to come from the actors when they speak. (Not uncommon with the joy I’m sure I hear from the actors blessed enough to speak David Mamet’s dialogue.) They love speaking they’re dialogue, but they don’t make it precious. (Granted, there is so much of it, they don’t have time too.) They let the dialogue do a lot of the work. They should, it’s really that good.

And this show has too much in common with Castle and Bones for me to not to like it. (Unrequited love, mostly.)

An Education – For all of the attention that Carey Mulligan gets for her performance in An Education, which is deserved, equal if not greater attention should be given to her co-stars. An Education is about what we learn when we’re not in school. And if it weren’t for the really strong supporting cast (I’m looking at you Rosemund Pike, Peter Skarsgard, Alfred Molina, Emma Thompson and Olivia Williams) there truly wouldn’t have been as much value in the extracurricular experiences. That is to say, if these characters weren’t as well drawn or well performed, we probably would have thought that the Carey Mulligan character’s education would have been quite shit.

Breaking Bad (Season 2, Episode 1-7) – It’s a very good show with almost no likable characters. Seven episodes into the Season 2, and I’m having a hard time wanting to continue. As a rule, I try to only spend time with shows/characters that I can imagine spending the same amount of time talking to in real life. I’m trying to be flexible with this show. Trying hard, really hard.

Better Off Ted (Season 1, Episodes 1-13) – Quickly becoming a new favorite. It’s fast, witty and lovely. Better Off Ted is the most good-hearted, cynical show I can imagine. It’s a screwball comedy.  It’s good for two or three strong belly laughs an episode. Watch it before it gets canceled.

Castle (Season 2, Episode 20) – I love this show, but then again I’m a sucker for a little noir mixed with romance. This last weeks episode (The Late Shaft) was not one of the show’s best, dealing with the murder of a late night host by one of his many usurpers. It just didn’t have the energy that the best Castle episodes have. That said, I’m still a sucker for this show.

Sorority Row – Better than it had to be, not close too good enough to recommend to anyone. Just go and watch Black Christmas if you want to see sorority girls such as Slutty, Bitchy and The Good Soul – fight off a murderous entity. The most disappointing thing about Sorority Row is that after 90 minutes, the film almost overcomes itself, only to trip up on the most unnecessary reveal of the villain. It didn’t need to be him. It didn’t need to be anyone in particular. (That can be scarier.)

Twilight: New Moon – Makes the first film feel like it’s paced like His Girl Friday. Nowhere near bad enough to be enjoyed, and well enough produced to just depress you.

It’s good to have the Doctor.

And while, as of yet, I’ve never seen an episode of the first incarnation of the good Doctor (1963-1989), I must say that I truly enjoy Christopher Eccleston‘s portrayal of the Doctor. There’s a certain mania that he gives the role, where the feeling of loss and time are weight against the perseverance. It’s also refreshing to see Eccleston in this role, as he has had his share of playing the baddies, and heavies. (28 Days Later, Shallow Grave)

What is somewhat fascinating, is that this show that could be weight down by moralizing (it has its share) and romanticizing (covered there as well), is not. It’s fun.

(Any show that deals with time travel, and changing the coarse of history, could easily devolve into a pulpit show. Something I fear an American remake of this show would latch onto.)

And that’s, in greater part, due to Eccleston. It’s a mad show, he’s mad in it. But it’s not hands in the air, flailing around sort of mad. It’s an intense, intelligent, don’t-look-back-’cause-something-might-be-behind-you sort of mad.

(I will miss him, now that he’s gone.)

Thirst is a film about desire and the complications that arise from unchecked desire, and for the most part the film is successful. Park, who has made Oldboy and Sympanthy for Lady Vengeance, is no doubt a talented director who has a flair for beautiful images, both set-up and surprising.  (Examples: The long fight sequence in Oldboy and the Speed Bag head in Thirst.)

That said, I always feel there’s something missing. There is a confidence in his story telling that is both enthralling and disappointing. Enthralling because he demands that the audience keeps up with him. Disappointing because he demands that the audience takes leaps of faith that are sometimes to large.

Park’s films subsequently feel a little incomplete. I will continue to watch his films eagerly waiting the complete film that I know is in him.

It can be said about the film that it hasn’t aged well, that is outside of Vivian Leigh. There are actors that seem always fresh, always contemporary, Gene Hackman comes to mind.  Leigh, whose body of work is mostly unseen by me, here has a presence that would be as modern here in 2009 as it was in 1941. She is permanently present.

As for the film itself, the majority of it is an equal mix common melodrama and Ra-Ra patriotism. The patriotism is to be expected, as it was made to help morale in the British citizens in their fight against Germany. Speeches made by Lord Nelson have as much to do with the threat of Napoleon (who he was fighting) as Hitler. They carry the same sentiment, but not the power, of Paul Heinrid’s Victor Laszlo in Casablanca.

That might have to do with Laurence Olivier’s performance as Lord Nelson. Olivier’s Nelson comes across arrogant and self-important. A man consumed by his work, yet strangely aloof from his situation. There is a way for that to be engaging, dashing even, but not here.

Lord Nelson, in this performance, is not, in any way, accessible. It’s hard to see why someone would fall in love with him.

Which brings us to an interesting conundrum of the film: Lord Nelson and Lady Hamilton love affair. The film is a romance. And one drawn from the classic archetype, the one where the lovers find themselves in loveless relationships, therefore its justified that they enter into an affair. It’s for their hearts-sake that they endeavor into this forbidden love. The film banks on us wanting them to be together. But should adultery be rooted for?

The film chooses an interesting, but unsuccessful, method of articulating its opinions of the lovers.

Though the majority of the film is crammed with sense of love and admiration of the what Lord Nelson and Lady Hamilton were able to accomplish together, there is an unnecessary device employed by the film. The body of the film is bookended by Lady Hamilton in poverty. As if poverty, is what she deserves. There is no reason for Director Alexander Korda to include these scenes in the film, unless he wants the audience to feel that Lady Hamilton’s being punished. Wouldn’t it be enough to show her broken hearted by the news that her betrothed is dead?

‘No, that is not enough’, the film defiantly says. ‘She should be punished for being a woman of a frivolous nature. True, she was a woman who helped the British navy defeat Napoleon, but she sullied a Legendary soldier’s legacy.’

This is why the film is confusing, and ultimately unsuccessful. It plays both sides of the fence. Lord Nelson dies a hero, Lady Hamilton dies a pauper.*

Without the opening and closing sequences, Lady Hamilton is human: full of faults and issues, but also one that is trying to be happy, rising from abject poverty to that of station of importance. (A very American ideal, by the way.)

The film counters this by presenting her as destitute. The film would have been better served if they had just printed the legend. Heroes have no need for facts.

*This is factually correct. He did die at sea, and she did die in the gutter. But also she had at least three children with different men, was a prostitute and was rather fat by the time she met Lord Nelson. So, the question is: Why choose to include only one of these facts, unless you wanted to make a point about her?

Here’s a trailer.

At this point, 3 episodes in, Glee is it. Where else do we get music videos that endow the songs with meaning? The Acafellas. Subtle, but awesome costume design. I’m looking at Jayma Mays costumes in particular. The floral print costume she’s wearing as she’s cleaning the leaves of her plant in the third episode does what all elements of design should do, accent the story so we gather more about the characters than they can say with words.   And the incomparable Jane Lynch. (You might know her from such films as Best in Show, Role Models, or the 100 other films and TV shows she been since 1998.)

It’s amazing to me that this show is was created by Ryan Murphy, whose previous work on the overtly cynical Nip/Tuck gave me no idea that there good be this much fun to be had with a Glee Club. Thank you sir!

This might not be a show for everyone. But it a show for everyone who enjoys entertainment, and is willing to allow themselves to be overwhelmed by possibilities. I ask you: Where can this story go? Where does it go? There are some obvious answers. There are some story lines that we can guess. More importantly though, we can dream up story lines/songs/situations that we want to see, and the list is endless.

The two complaints that I have are the editing in the dance numbers is to aggressive and that the songs are obviously dubbed. There is a shit-ton of talent in this show. From the choreographers to the singers to the dancers, let it show. Let us see how amazingly talented they are by not getting in the way cinematically.

Just let them perform.

The show is now on Hulu. Watch it. Catch up. Enjoy it with me, I’ll be the one who is hiding behind his wife in all the awkward bits.

And I’d argue that if you we’re faced with a ghost, one that is drawn to you because you are alive and it is not, that’d emotionally scar.

Pulse, the 2001 film from Kiyoshi Kurosawa, is an example of this phenomena. Without getting into to much on this film, mostly because Scott Tobias over at The Onion’s AV Club does an excellent job talking about the film, so let me briefly say that the thought of life after death being a drag, full of monotony and disillusionment is horrifying.

The impact of Pulse comes from its use of plain long shots to unnerve. The longer the take, the more the action takes place in a shocking place on the screen, the more unsettling the film becomes.

Kurosawa (not related) uses his framing, editing and actor positioning to an uncommon effect. It could not be any more different than the flash cutting of American versions of the J-Horror movement. There is a long sequence near the end of the film between a ghost and a human. There is no inter-cutting between the ghost and the human. The ghost, slightly blurred, moves towards the human. The human trips, and continues to look at the ghost. (If you thought death was walking up to you, how would you react?) The ghost moves towards him. The ghosts comes into focus. And what a focus pull. The scariest focus pull I’ve ever seen.

But it isn’t all focus. It’s also in the fact that the ghost moves towards the human from one part of the frame to another. That the minimal cuts are deliberate. The emphasize the presence and physicality of the ghost. They make the ghost real.

There is one other question I’d like to address about the film:

Why the humans die after seeing the ghosts? It’s not as if the ghost’s physically harm the people them meet. They seem to just imprint them with the a feeling of uselessness. A feeling that life after death is tedious. And while that might seem odd that the humans die after being exposed to this, instead of trying to live even happier lives, which is what each of us hope to do, dread and sorrow are powerful emotions.

It can effects the spirit.

And quite literally, ghosts are spirits.

So, if our spirits have no hope, what’s the point?

A Perfect Getaway , which is not a shitty film, stars Timothy Olyphant and Milla Jovovich, actors who have fallen into this category often in their career. (Hitman, The Girl Next Door & Resident Evil, The Messenger)

I will not argue the fact that these films are good or bad, or that I’ve seen them all and enjoyed them. (Well, not The Girl Next Doorit’s absolute shit, but I really loved Timothy Olyphant.)

Timothy Olyphant: probably best known for his portrayal of Seth Bullock in Deadwood, and that more than likely he was born with a Cheshire Grin. His first noticeable role was the villain in Scream 2. (Which more or less was a knock off of the villain that Matthew Lillard played in the original.) He played the unnamed hitman in Hitman. A pimp in The Girl Next Door. A pissed off computer tech in Live Free or Die Hard. He’s played the gamut of villains, high & low, and always been the best part of those films.

He has spent the better part of his career wasted in films unsuited for his talent. ‘A Perfect Getaway’ is a great role for him. It plays off his villainy, as no one trusts a man who smiles too much, they seem to have something to hide.

‘Outstanding!’ Nick (Olyphant’s character) smiles. But it’s more like ‘Out.Standing!’ (The period is properly spaced.) The key to every Olyphant performance is reading his smile. Is it joy? Is it masochism? Is it the fact that he knows he’ll get away with it?

There is revelry in his performance.

And there is too little joy in cinematic performances; film actors seem to think that you have to be tortured to be believable. (Benecio Del Toro, have some fun, you’re really talented.) Or you have to be careless to have fun. (Transformers, I’m looking at you.)

Olyphant is measured.

Milla Jovovich: model/actress not always a great combination. Rule of thumb, model/actresses tend to be able to pose like they know what’s going on, but fail to connect with the emotion behind it.

Milla Jovovich is not measured.

Watch The Messenger, she fidgets, emotes, wiggles, and generally suffers from some mild form of Parkinson’s for the duration of the film. She’s almost unwatchable in her movements. (For the sake of your time and energy, don’t watch The Messenger.) Now watchResident Evil, again, she emotes, she kicks ass, she plays the scenes and according to the DVD Commentary, she also made her outfits. Point I’m making, she throws herself into the roles (literally, if she could, she would), who cares what people think of it.

She’s a committer.  What she lacks, more times than not, is a director to guide her to realistic, human outcomes. That’s is to say, you can present emotions but not the right emotions at the right time.

In fact, watching the Resident Evil Trilogy there is nothing wrong with her performance. There is a lot wrong with the script, the direction, the leaps of faith. But she follows the path of her character come hell or high water.

In A Perfect Getaway she has a little monologue that ends with ‘It’s amazing how much you talk about yourself when you’re on vacation.’ (Paraphrase.) A bad actress would not be able to say that with the right amount of conflicting emotions, she does.

Final point: no one wants more shitty films. What we want is good films that entertain us. Films that we enjoy, films that make us think, films we can walk away from and go on with our day. One way we can do this is find actors whose performances we enjoy, flock to the cinema to support them.

Support Timothy Olyphant and Milla Jovovich.

(Another post could be made to follow Steve Zahn, but he is often referred to as brilliant and a comedic force, neither of these arguments I disagree with. But the case for Timothy Olyphant & Milla Jovovich, is much more interesting to me at this moment.)

Simplifying the story: Oskar is a bullied boy with an absent father and a dismissive mother. Eli (Lina Leanderson, an actress who expresses unimaginable knowledge for someone so young) moves into Oskar’s building late one night, with her guardian.

While Eli lives off the blood of others, she befriends Oskar. Why she does this is up to some speculation.

Alfredson, working from a script by John Ajvide Lindqist, spends a lot of time setting up a realistic world for the characters to live in.  The scene where Eli’s guardian, must go into the snow and find a victim for Eli, is a great example. Pay attention to the time we spend watching a man prepare to murder a stranger, and to the care he takes in gathering the blood. Later, notice the  action he takes to protect Eli when he is caught. His love for his ward hints at an unsettling end for Eli and Oskar’s relationship.

A quick note about the adults in the film. They seem distant or monstrous. I think this has more to do with the fact that Alfredson and Lindqvist have told the story from Oskar’s perspective. His relationship with his parents, strained as it is, relates to how we view all the other adults in the film. They are pieces of his parents’ relationship. It is a strategy that works very well.

In the end, the film is about two people who find each other in a lonely world, and forge a bond.

In another context, it’d be very romantic.

In this context, it’s a little terrifying.

‘Let Right One In’ comes out on DVD in early March 2009. Watch it.