Pass It On! (The History Boys review)

I forget what initially drew me to buy the film The History Boys. Maybe it was because Allan Bennett had written the original Tony award-winning play AS WELL AS the screenplay for the film adaptation. Maybe it was because Frances de la Tour was in it. Maybe it was because the song The Universal by Blur was in the trailer. Maybe it was all the very handsome men speaking in various British dialects. Or it could have been the mix of poetry and history.

We'll never know.

The History Boys is the kind of film I someday hope to write. While I've read reviews that say that it didn't translate as well as it could have from the stage to the big screen -- and I can see where their complaints lie -- I have to say that it is fast becoming one of my favorite films.

The story begins in 1983, where eight boys, nicknamed "The History Boys" for their love of history, have received the highest A-Levels scores the Cutler Grammar School has ever seen. They are determined to try for Oxford and Cambridge, but have no hope, even with teachers like the idealistic and philosophical Mr. Hector and the blunt and wise Mrs. Lintott. The new, young teacher, Mr. Irwin, is hired in hopes of steering the boys in the right direction, especially with their entrance essays.

Luckily, the film was made with the original Broadway cast, because I honestly can't see anyone else playing these roles, even the actors and actresses who've replaced them.

The film is more character-centered rather than plot, although the two are very much intertwined. The boys are made up of the cool and desirable Dakin, the religious Scripps, the pining and sadly sweet Posner, the snarky and mischievous Lockwood, the trouble-making and smart aleck Timms, the athletic Crowther, the hopeless yet determined Rudge, and the witty Akhtar. They are led by Mr. Hector, an old teacher with a poet's soul, the ability to quote anything, and a penchant for beautiful boys, Mrs. Lintott who laments that history is five centuries of male ineptitude, and Mr. Irwin, who pushes the boys to their limits and encourages very unorthodox ways of looking and dissecting history.

The characters are wonderful. The boys remind everyone (over the age of 18) of what it was like to have expectations, to believe you were invincible, and the teachers are the prime example of how life can sometimes be nothing but a disappointment.

It's Dakin and Irwin, however, that have the most intriguing relationship. I won't go too much into it should anyone rent/buy the movie, but the boundaries of Platonism are continually pushed, culminating in a very satisfactory -- or unsatisfactory -- result. It is a fascinating war.

The film, itself, however, reflects the genuine life of a school boy. There are no fancy shots, or artistic lighting. It's almost as if you're there in the classroom, seeing the world realistically.

As for the transition from stage to film, I can't voice any objections, for I haven't had the fortune of seeing the play. I can agree with those who say that the characters in the film aren't as fleshed-out as they are (or must be, in my case) in the play. The film characters were very fun and somewhat multi-dimensional, but there was definitely some other kind of depth missing there. I can only assume that they are brought into full in the play. But then again, until I see it I can't pass judgment.

The History Boys is full of beautiful language, hilarious one-liners, and thought-provoking history lessons. It's what school ought to be: teaching you history while simultaneously preparing you for the utter randomness of the future.

I give The History Boys 4 out of 5.

The Stupid is Catching!

Gray wolves are no longer endangered! It's been a long battle, beginning in 1973 when the Federal Endangered Species Act listed them as, well, endangered. But finally, 36 years later, they're in the clear!

Except big hunts are already in the works.

Why are we so hell-bent on trying to perpetuate the stereotype of stupid people in groups?

Do they not have anything better to do in Idaho and Wyoming than to hunt animals that have just clawed their way out of a red zone? So what if they're eating your livestock! It's what they do! And believe you me, they were here long before we were.

"Hey guys, we've just saved an entire species from possible extinction!"
"Great! Now let's kill them all!"

You want to know why we haven't found intelligent life beyond this planet? Because nobody would be caught dead with us.

How-to Guide to Being Sick

It's been a while since I've posted instructions on how to live your life, so today (while I'm dying, quarantined in my house) I thought I might post a list of steps in order to survive being sick.

HOW TO BE SICK
A comprehensive check-list


1. When you wake up, it feels like you're two seconds away from total Armageddon.

This is completely normal, and no, the four horsemen that you see before you AREN'T the guys you keep hearing Pat Robertson blather about. You actually shouldn't see any horsemen. If you do, you're probably not sick but rather having a bad acid trip.

Hallucinations aside, if you feel like total and complete shit, then chances are you've become a carrier. Or is that too zombie-virus-ish?


2. Check your symptoms.

There are certain symptoms pertaining to certain illnesses. Let's break it down so you won't have to run to WebMD for a half-assed diagnosis. You can do it all on your own!

- The Flu: chills, sore throat, fever, headache, weakness, exhaustion, aches

- Pneumonia: phlegmy cough (yellow or green), high fever, chills, shortness of breath, vomiting, blueness of the skin

- The Common Cold: sore throat, runny nose, nasal congestion, sneezing and coughing, malaise

** Do not be alarmed. Just because you have the symptoms of pneumonia doesn't mean you have it. You could be showing initial signs of ebola!


3. You're not going to show any signs of intelligence until you start feeling better, so call out of work or school.

You're going to be useless most of the day. Get into some sweats or something as equally comfortable. Put down the Blackberry and the bookbag.


4. Break out the Disney movies.***

I once had a teacher who seriously believed that Disney was gearing up to take over the world. Whether that's true or not, Disney movies always make people happy (crowd control?). And that's something you need when you're sick.

I, myself, go from The Little Mermaid all the way down to the present, usually ending with The Emperor's New Groove. Pocahontas is always good around mid-day.


5. DON'T DRINK MILK!!

This is always a tough one for me, since I drink about 6 or 7 thousand glasses of milk a day. However milk isn't the drink to have when you're sick (especially if you've got a case of the runs). Drink water or juice. No alcohol. Don't want to add a hangover to the equation!


6. Eat little, but often.

Unless you're throwing up. Then just put the fork down and go lie down.


7. Sleep. Shower. Solitude.

Try and get a nap in. And a shower. You'll feel better for it. And quarantine yourself somewhere, because nobody wants your sick ass anywhere near them. People saw 28 Days Later. They know what happens.


And there you have it! Now, these steps don't have to be followed in any particular order, but do try and get at least 6 Disney movies in. By tomorrow, you'll probably still feel like shit, but you'll be in a haze of Disney euphoria so you won't care.


*** Breaking out into song is not a symptom.

There just might be a God.

Because Nathan Fillion is starring in Joss Whedon's internet musical, "Doctor Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog", with... are you ready for this?...

Neil Patrick motherfucking Harris.


It's like all my X-mases came at once.

Tragedies as Cash Cows? Or Simply Paying Homage?

Last night, I was watching United 93 and sobbing like a little kid with a skinned knee when I thought back to the day in 8th grade that I was forced to watch The Perfect Storm. And despite me falling asleep during the first 20 minutes, it was after the fact that I decided the movie was a failure as an adaptation of a tragedy.

So, fast forward several years to last night, where I'm still crying as the passengers rush the terrorists to try and take control of the cockpit. This movie is a hard one for me to define. As a movie, it's fantastic. The characters are real people, just innocent bystanders waiting to get home to their families. I really enjoyed that there weren't any big names in the film. I think it made it a little more genuine to not have Brad Pitt or friggin' Lindsay "please oh please go the hell away because no one wants to see you act or sing or breathe" Lohan taking up the screen. And after the terrorists make themselves known, it's just a jumble of fear, confusion, and helplessness. It's well done, as far as a film goes.

But what about the subject matter? The fact is, I'm still reeling from 9/11. I watched the second plane hit, and the first building go down. I sometimes have dreams where I'm on United 93, talking on the phone to my mother and telling her that I love her and not to worry, because we have a plan.

9/11 was a fucked-up day for all of us. It was the day that America was emasculated, the day that my parents didn't have answers for me, the day I was dismissed from school because we feared Boston was next. Every time I heard an airplane -- which, living next to an airport, was like every 10 minutes -- my heart would skip a beat. Even today, when I see a low-flying plane, I sometimes think this is it.

I remember when they were making United 93. In fact, they made two adaptations: Flight 93, which was made for TV, and United 93. The country was divided on making them: one side believed it was too soon, that these people had finally been put to rest and suddenly their final hours were going to be paraded on screens across America for profit. The other side felt these heroes' story needed to be told.

I, too, was divided. How could you make a movie about an event where no one survived and no one really knew what took place? We have snippets of phone conversations and last goodbyes to loved ones, the famous "Let's roll", and whatever was gleaned from the black box. But no one knows how it went down. Just that the normal, innocent passengers stood up together in an attempt to stop the hijack. That's it. And as far as remaining true to the event, that's hardly enough to go on.

It's the same with The Perfect Storm, as disappointing as the movie was. No one knew what happened.

So, what is it? It is paying homage to a tragedy, or is it exploitation? A little of both?

Thoughts?

UGG.

Funny how the name of the boot is synonymous with a sound that conveys disgust.

You see them on the streets, in store windows, on the feet of girls ages 12-23. UGG boots are the new fashion phenomenon sweeping the nation. They are the ubiquitous suede boot lined on the inside with sheep's wool or whateverthefuck it is, coming in an assortment of colors and heights. They can't be worn in the rain or snow, but they can be yours for a bargain at $130!

I think "UGG" means "the end of fashion as we know it".

Those stupid boots drive me crazy. Not because they're warm, not because they're shapeless and tacky as all hell, and not because of the price, but because EVERYONE'S wearing them. When I say everyone, I mean it. My mother has been searching high and low for a pair of UGGs, but no store carries them because they've been on backorder since October. It's now March. Still backordered.

Did I miss something? Did the boat leave and was I just not on it? Did I not get the memo?

What makes these boots so special?

Answer: NOTHING.

UGG boots are stealing the individuality of girls all across the country. They're taking away the freedom to express one's own style. You know how I know this? Because every girl I see now looks the same: they all sport a simple top and sweatpants or jeans, which are tucked into a pair of UGGs. All of them. ALL OF THEM!

These days, having UGGs makes you automatically cool, and that just doesn't fly with me. They've become this status symbol in our society. But not only that, people who don't like UGGs are starting to stereotype the girls who are wearing them, and THAT doesn't fly with me either. These boots are nothing but trouble.

Girls, you aren't Eskimos! And you're not Aborigines! And why the hell are these boots from Australia, anyway? It's a million and one degrees down there! Who wears wool-lined boots in that kind of heat?

Take back your individuality. It won't make you any less cool to wear a pair of sneakers, or flats, or a shirt that says "I Slept With Spongebob" (I own that shirt). Be free to make your own statement.

That goes for you Croc-wearing SOBs. I don't care how comfortable they are, you look like dumb asses.

Hells bells, they even shot the dog! (the No Country for Old Men review)

After seeing Charlie Bartlett, I had a small freak-out, thinking that No Country for Old Men would leave the theater within 24 hours, so I went Sunday afternoon to see it. And boy howdy, I'm glad I did.

No Country for Old Men is the movie that everyone wished they'd thought of. Or the story everyone wished they'd written. And then everyone wishes they were the Coen brothers, but they're not, so too bad. Life sucks. This movie doesn't. It was the perfect blend of simplicity, action, gratuitous violence, and psychology, and it was completely deserving of Best Picture. I'm a bit miffed that it didn't get Best Cinematography (it went to There Will Be Blood), but I suppose that Best Picture, Director, Adapted Screenplay, and Supporting Actor will have to suffice.

Man, where do I begin? The opening lines, a voice-over spoken by Sheriff Ed Tom (the always awesomely deadpan Tommy Lee Jones), capture the viewer's attention right away, nostalgia and exhaustion dripping from every word. Cut to an arrest, which turns sour as Anton Chigurh (Javier Bardem) brutally murders the arresting officer, takes his little oxygen tank, and goes on his merry way. We are then introduced to Llewelyn Moss, a man in the wrong place at the right time who finds the aftermath of a drug deal gone wrong, as well as a case with $2 million inside. He takes the money, which brings Chigurh onto his trail, along with a whole lot of mayhem and ridiculously fascinating deaths and mind games. All for money.

The movie was an absolute dream. I mean that seriously; that shit was surreal. The shots of the landscape, especially when there was a storm on the horizon, were just incredible, giving me a look at a part of the country I barely knew existed. Once again, they lost Best Cinematography. That really frosts my cookies.

The performances were fantastic. Tommy Lee Jones never disappoints, and was so world-weary that you couldn't help but feel the weight of life that he carried. Josh Brolin was an unsuspectingly great anti-hero. I really empathized with him and was very sad when he met an unsuspecting fate. He was smart, he was witty, and he was relatable. Woody Harrelson, not sure what the hell you were doing in the movie, but you were funny ("As compared to what? The bubonic plague?") and annoying and I'm sorry your ass got shot.

Okay. Finally, we get to the talk of the town. Javier Bardem not only deserved Best Supporting Actor, but he also should've been given the Scariest Motherfucker EVER award, because what. the. hell. No, it wasn't just the haircut that terrified me (the hair should've been given Best Supporting), but it was his eyes, totally devoid of any emotion or regard for life, or the stiff way he walked, like a machine. It was his mindfucks (I sat through the scene in the convenience store with the entire cast of ER on standby, because I swear I was gonna have a massive coronary), his silk-over-gravel voice, and it was his damn coins. CHRIST. What a performance. Javier, eres fantastico! Te admiro mucho! Espero que te veré en más peliculas muy pronto!

Shut up. I know Spanish. (If any of that's incorrect, I don't want to hear about it.)

Regardless of the movie not winning Best Cinematography or whether or not my Spanish is half-decent, No Country for Old Men is truly cinema at its best.

Although, what can you expect? It's the Coen brothers.

I give No Country for Old Men 5 out of 5.

ima mess you up.


** I'd like to make a correction from my earlier post regarding the weapon used by Javier Bardem's character. It wasn't a tire iron, it was an oxygen tank. Who fucking knew?

"Never attack a drunk guy with a gun." (The Charlie Bartlett Review)

I went to see Charlie Bartlett only for the sake of seeing Robert Downey Jr. I was pleasantly surprised by the rest of the cast, as well as the way the story unfolded.

Charlie Bartlett is about a wealthy, smart and mature boy of the same name (played by Anton Yelchin) who has been kicked out of every private school he's attended -- the latest offense making fake (but very authentic-looking) driver's licenses. His mother (Hope Davis -- who owns), a careless woman who sings showtunes while taking klonopin with wine, sees him as an adult instead of the teenager he is. It is decided that Charlie will attend public school, and after a very rough start, he is accepted by his peers when he sets up a psychiatrist's office in the boy's bathroom, complete with prescriptions for their ailments. However Principal Nathan Gardener (Robert Downey Jr, never a disappointment in any movie he's ever been in) finds himself at odds with Charlie, especially when the boy starts dating his daughter (Kat Dennings).

This movie, no matter what some critics have to say, was thoroughly enjoyable. It wasn't another movie about an arrogant teenager, or a film a la Ferris Bueller, but a real look at the problems high school kids have, ranging from promiscuity to homosexuality to suicide. And Charlie Bartlett bears the burden of his desired popularity with great aplomb, even when in the face of expulsion and other not-fun things.

Anton Yelchin really shone in this movie, to the point where I felt like a pedophile for being so impressed. Plus, he's a real cutie. I really enjoyed his performance as the charismatic Charlie, and never for a second did it fall flat, or was I not fully on board with it. He was that cute everyman that we all went to school with, who never belonged to one group and was friends with the entire school because he did some amazing thing that keeps everyone in awe. Yelchin kept me raptured and even made me wish that someone like Charlie had gone to my own high school; we would have been a lot happier if he had.

Robert Downey Jr. stole every scene he was in. He was funny, he was tragic, he was a total dad. Downey Jr. is one of my favorite actors. There's just something about him that you can totally relate to, no matter the role, whether he's a thief stealing shit (Kiss Kiss Bang Bang) or a reluctant superhero (the upcoming Iron Man). As the alcoholic Principal Gardener, you felt his pain, how his life was destroyed when he was given the position of principal and left his position as a history teacher. He doesn't understand his daughter, and doesn't see that his drinking and "hobby" (driving a remote-controlled boat around his pool) is hurting her. The climax scene between him and Charlie is just... I sat there in shock and awe, thanking Elsie Downey for bringing him into the world. There isn't a more talented and versatile actor out there (except for maybe Nathan Fillion and Sean Biggerstaff, but I'm biased).

The rest of the cast, the student body, were great, especially Tyler Hilton as Murphy Bivens, the bully-turned-business partner. I really enjoyed his character and couldn't see him played by anyone else. I hope to see more of Hilton (no relation to THE Hiltons, thank god) in upcoming films. He's on the CW's One Tree Hill as Chris Keller.

The movie flowed well and moved quickly. I was surprised when it ended. The ending, come to think of it, was probably the weakest part of the movie. However if that's all it's got against it, it's doing pretty well.

I give Charlie Bartlett a 4 out of 5.