It's the most horrible time of the year.

As sure as the sun will rise and as sure as someone's going to rehab, the end of this semester is drawing nigh!

A good portion of this blog's readers (count: 3) are college students, or at least have friends/relatives that are, and they're probably beginning to stress. There are finals to study for, all-nighters, big papers to write. Red Bull's stock usually sky-rockets around this time.

However, every student can easily be distracted, as they are vulnerable and their attention spans drop to that of a sock.

Here are some ways to survive the next two weeks:

1. Make a list. Not like your Santa lists, unless swearing gets you going. List all the things you need to get done, ranging them from most important/time-consuming to least. And check off the things you do finish.

2. Strategize: Plan so that one subject doesn't take time away from another. If you have two papers to write before the end and one is due before another, don't invest ALL your time into the first one. Be sure to outline the second one and keep thinking about it.

3. For the love of all things good in this world (cake, Sean Biggerstaff, books by Terry Pratchett), get the fuck off of Facebook. Even the most well-meaning student can sit down with every intention of writing a paper and instead find themselves on Facebook with five other windows open, not entirely sure how it happened. Do yourself a favor: stay off of Facebook, stay off of AIM (or at least put up an away message that says you can only be bothered if someone's bleeding out their eyes or if the meadow is on fire), and don't text anybody. This is homework time.

4. Start early. The earlier start you get, the more time you'll have to laugh at everyone else for slacking. And believe me, there's no other ego-boost like it.

5. Metabolize! Eat snacks while you work to keep your energy up. Celery, carrots, cookie dough (or, well, don't)... Don't eat anything too sugary or you'll crash and find yourself watching a marathon of Project Runway. Not that I know from experience.

6. Don't be afraid to ask teachers or tutors for help. Too brain-dead to think of your own ideas? Need a kick in the right direction? That's what they're there for! And they usually get paid; teachers and tutors like to see this kind of proactive shit.

7. Take short breaks. NOW you can hit Facebook or Youtube, but limit your time to about 10 minutes or less. Don't get caught up adding stupid applications so you can make Christmas trees or commenting on EVERY picture someone tagged you in. Not only are you procrastinating, but you're being obnoxious.

8. Be proud of yourself! If you've managed to accomplish one of these things, then there's no stopping you! ... Unless, you know, you get hit by a mack truck or something, but why the hell would you be playing on the highway in the first place?

And remember! R.C. loves you. Sorta.

Um. Holy Cow.

The Center for Marital and Sexual Studies in Long Beach, CA reported one anonymous woman volunteer as having 134 orgasms in the span of an hour.

I don't know whether to be jealous or slap on a chastity belt for all eternity.

SONG OF THE DAY!!

The newest segment! Every week on Thursday I will post a song that I think you ought to be aware of. It will be a different genre, band, era, whatever every time -- or at least most of the time. Click the song title, download, and enjoy!

This week's song is Broken Social Scene's powerful Lover's Spit.

*THIS SONG WILL BE AVAILABLE FOR 7 DAYS ONLY!*

**If you download, I want to know your thoughts. So don't click if you don't want to share.**


I first heard this song in a (favorite) Queer as Folk episode and fell in love. Every time I listen to this, I feel an odd combination of depression, envy, and buoyancy.

Thoughts?

Denzel Washington is the MAN.

I'll admit, I got this in an email sent to me by my mother (who rocks, btw, and you're all super jealous because she isn't your mother), and I was so moved by it that I needed to post it:

Don't know whether you heard about this

but Denzel Washington and his family visited

the troops at Brook Army Medical Center , in

San Antonio , Texas (BAMC) the other day. This

is where soldiers who have been evacuated from

Germany come to be hospitalized in the United

States, especially burn victims. There are some

buildings there called Fisher Houses. The Fisher

House is a Hotel where soldiers' families can stay,

for little or no charge, while their soldier is staying

in the Hospital. BAMC has quite a few of these houses

on base, but as you can imagine, they are almost filled

most of the time.

While Denzel Washington was visiting BAMC, they gave

him a tour of one of the Fisher Houses. He asked how

much one of them would cost to build. He took his check

book out and wrote a check for the full amount right there

on the spot. The soldiers overseas were amazed to hear

this story and want to get the word out to the American

public, because it warmed their hearts to hear it.

So, the email goes on to asking why A-holes like Madonna, Sean Penn, and that bad Baldwin father continue to make the front page of every paper with their anti-everything trash, but Denzel's charity only makes page 3 of some no-name paper in San Antonio.

Why is that?

Because the American Media sucks, that's why. But we knew that.

Anyway, the point of this was to make you guys aware that not only is Denzel a great actor, but he's a great guy, too.

NEW NAME, NEW.... actually, no, that's about it.

I've changed the name of this blog to "Because Your Life Isn't Interesting". Because it's not.

♥

Something about a watch and talking animals...?

Catholic groups are boycotting Newline Cinema's The Golden Compass, because it supposedly promotes Atheism.




Um, no offense to the Catholics, but shut up, grab some popcorn, and enjoy a movie with Daniel Craig, Sam Elliot, and Ian McKellen as a bear.

Is it December 7th yet? Because I am crawling the walls in anticipation.


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"Foiled" (2006), a review of Blue October's most recent CD

While you're all working hard on making your wreath balls and writing your X-mas lists, I'm going to tell you all about a band called Blue October.

When my dorm had burned down and I was trapped in the Overlook Hotel, my roommate and I were watching VH1 one afternoon, where the video for "Into the Ocean" was featured. The song immediately struck something in me and I immediately downloaded it and listened to it over and over and over and -- well, you get the gist.

Not long after, I purchased the entire CD, "Foiled", and set about listening to it. However, I only really listened to "Into the Ocean" and "X Amount of Words", because I clearly have an attention span that will allow only two items into my mind at any given period of time.

But I just recently listened to "Foiled" in its entirety, and the CD blew me away.

Blue October is comprised of Justin Furstenfeld (lead vocals), Jeremy Furstenfeld (drums, percussion), Ryan Delahoussaye (violin/viola, mandolin, piano, vocals), C.B. Hudson (guitar) and Matt Noveskey (bass guitar). The band originated in Houston, TX.

The songs are written by Justin, who is a recovering drug addict and alcoholic, and has battled with bipolar disorder through most of his life. Most of the songs are about his battles with addiction, overcoming them, and letting go. And even for the listeners who have never, first-hand, experienced drug or alcohol addiction, the lyrics are relatable and hypnotically beautiful, from the flow and ebb beat of "Into the Ocean" to the smarting, harsh "Hate Me" to the forgiving and hopeful "Overweight". All of the songs are poetry at its finest, and make me wonder just what it is I'm doing with my writing career, because I could never string together those sentences and have them flow like that.

Blue October is innovative and not afraid to throw addiction, something society tends to sweep under the rug and hope it will resolve itself, into the faces of the listeners, not to demand sympathy but rather to remind that there are people out there who need sympathy, or even just a kind word or smile. And they pull that off without sounding preachy in the least.

I recommend "Foiled" to anyone who knows what it's like to hurt and feel alone, or knows someone who feels that way, or just simply wants to listen to beautiful words put to beautiful music.

"Foiled" definitely gets a 5 out of 5.

X-mas List Writing!

No matter your age, you always make a list of the things you want for X-mas. Or Christmas. Or whatever Let's-Exchanged-Gifts-Holiday.

So for years, I've slowly cultivated my list-writing skillz and have come up with a sure-fire way of getting whatever it is you ask for!

Because I'm so nice, I will be posting my own list as an example. Follow along and take notes. By the time you're done, you will be a X-mas list-writing pro!


Dear Santa, (always start off with 'dear'; it shows your sincerity)

You know, I'm used to disappointment, but fourteen years and still no pony?! That's fucking ridiculous and I demand some compensation for the trauma I've suffered. (use expletives and big words -- Santa's old and easily confused)

These are my demands:

1. World Domination
1. A giraffe. Stuffed or live, either is fine. If you can't swing the giraffe, then give me my damn pony!

2. A new cookie sheet. The one I have now is all burnt and one of the edges is curling up... probably from the time I made that giant peanut butter/chocolate chip cookie that was bigger than my head.

3. Sean Biggerstaff -- I don't even need to give a reason for this one. (Less is more, kids. Great things just don't need words)

4. World Domination

4. The Batmobile. As a Batman fan, I need to show my appreciation for the comic/tv series somehow, and what better way than to advertise it while doing 120 on the highway? No cop would ticket me because they'd all be too busy staring in awe at the blazing tire marks in the road, wishing they, too, had the Batmobile.

5. An apology from Britney Spears for running over one of my family members. It hasn't happened yet, but it's only a matter of time. (Looking to the future -- always a good decision)

6. The entire collection of MST3k, because a show that awesome needs someone to view every episode repeatedly... and I think I'm just the person for the job.

7. Oh, what the hell. World Domination. (Santa's extra good to the ones who have big expectations)

8. An end to the Writer's Strike, because dammit, I have screenplays to write and while this stupid thing is going on (I support it whole-heartedly, btw) I can't actually do anything with them!

9. Waitress on DVD. Two words, fat man: Nathan. Fillion.

10. 2-3 inches added to my height. I'm a short ass, and we all know it. Make my life a little easier so I don't need to climb on kitchen counters to reach the top shelf.

11. A new president (Santa loves politics, kids!) An IQ of at least 90 is a must.

12. Erase the three new Star Wars movies. You know you want to.

13. Bring back the 40's. Please.

14. STOP THE TV STATIONS FROM PLAYING THOSE STOOPID STOP & SHOP COMMERCIALS! I DON'T REALLY CARE IF STOP & SHOP WORKS FOR THOSE LOSERS; THEY'RE INTERRUPTING MY QUALITY TIME WITH DONALD SUTHERLAND AND SAM WATERSTON!

Thanks, Santa! Give my love to Mrs. Claus!

Love always, (This negates all the mean things you said)
R.C.

ps: Those cookies, believe it or not, AREN'T for you. So stop eating them! Start eating the celery sticks with your pack mules, you could stand to lose a few.


See? Don't you feel more knowledgeable now? NOW GO, MY GENTLE SNOWFLAKES, AND WRITE YOUR OWN LISTS! Don't pull any punches (Santa hates the weak)! And remember: Christmas is a time for giving, but X-mas is a time for everything else! ♥

X-MASTIME IDEAS, part 1.

As sure as the sun will rise and as sure as Britney will run you over, X-mastime is upon us! Or Christmastime. Hanukkahtime. Kwanzaatime. Whatever you believe.

And as your host of this lovely site, it's my job to offer you ideas for gifts, whatever your delight may be. Is it for a lover? A parent? A sibling? A roommate? A person who's not really a friend but you'd feel bad if you didn't get them something?

WELL THEN HAVE I GOT SOME SUGGESTIONS FOR YOU!!!

1. Get better friends


Treats

No matter how many new diets come out or how many people you know are on a no-carb, no-fat, no-good kick, everyone abandons their "routine" in favor of the holidays. It's in our blood to bulk up for the winter to hibernate, and what better way to do that than to eat junk food, or as I like to call it, good shit?

Here's a recipe that is bulletproof. And if the gift's for a guy or girl friend, it's sure to get you laid!

Wreath Balls!

You will need...

* 1/2 cup butter (if I hear anyone bitching about how many calories are in butter, I will come over there and beat you.)
* 30 large marshmallows
* 1 1/2 teaspoons green food coloring
* 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
* 4 cups cornflakes cereal (like Special K! ... Not the drug.)
* 2 tablespoons cinnamon red hot candies

1. Melt the butter in a large saucepan over low heat. Add the marshmallows, and cook until melted, stirring constantly. If you stop stirring for even a SECOND, it will rise up and slay you. Next, remove from heat, and stir in the food coloring, vanilla, and Ketamine cornflakes.

2. Quickly drop big, honkin' tablespoonfuls of the mixture onto waxed paper, and form into a wreath shape with lightly greased fingers (so for those who've always wanted to bathe in Crisco, now's your moment to shine). Immediately decorate with red hot candies. Allow to cool to room temperature before removing from waxed paper, and storing in an airtight container.

I WANT JAMES MARSDEN TO SEARCH FOR *ME*!!

"Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit!"


Tonight, I decided to show the world my love for Disney by going to see Enchanted, a movie where the animated and real worlds collide. And it was the most adorable thing ever.

Perpetually-optimistic and saccharine Princess Giselle (Amy Adams), having found Prince Edward (James Marsden) just yesterday, is on her way to the chapel to be married to him so that they may have their happily ever after. However, Edward's wicked mother Narissa (Susan Sarandon) refuses to let her son be married, because then she would lose her throne. So she tricks Giselle into taking a little detour to make a wish at a magic wishing well -- and pushes the princess down it, sending her to a world "where there are no happily ever afters", aka New York City, where Giselle is shocked that the real world isn't all sunshine and puppies. She meets jaded divorce attorney Robert Philip (Patrick Dempsey) and they... you probably know where this is going.

What a clever concept, Disney! I mean, seriously. I applaud you. It's about time you came up with something original.

The movie was charming and never had a down moment. Adams delights as Giselle, complete with shocked gasps and swooning and spontaneous singing and choreographed dancing, thinking the best of everyone (she's heard of being angry but never knew it really happened). Dempsey is hilarious as Robert, who doesn't sing or dance or believe in happily ever afters, even after 5 years of dating his girlfriend, Nancy (Indina Menzel). Sarandon, deliciously evil as Narissa, hams it up, channeling every evil Disney queen, from Maleficent to Ursula.

And James Marsden... oh my GAHD, he rocked as clueless and conceited Prince Edward, on his quest to save his true love, which includes stabbing buses and breaking out into song only to be run over by a group of bikers. He was so over-the-top and campy that he completely stole the show.

And the best part? EVERY SINGLE Disney cliché was used. I mean, all of them. From Snow White's poisoned apple to Cinderella's slave labor helpful rodents... Huh. There were a lot of animals in this film. What is this, Esop's fables?

Anyway, Enchanted was light, fluffy fun and a great way to pass 2 hours.

I give Enchanted 4 out of 5. If only because Timothy Spall didn't get enough screen time.

Congratulations, Sean!

Congratulations to Sean Biggerstaff for winning the BAFTA Scotland Award for BEST ACTOR in TELEVISION. He won for his portrayal of Jeremy Wolfenden in Consenting Adults.

That's right, bitches. I told you he's going places.

Photo taken without permission from the Sean Biggerstaff Official Site. I can expect Scotland Yard to arrive at my doorstep with a warrant for my arrest anytime now.

SPOTLIGHT! And it's on... Nathan Fillion!

I first saw Nathan Fillion during the last season of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, where he played crazy priest Caleb, who worked for the original evil. And he was so creepy and yet so unbelievably handsome, I (of course) sat up and took notice. After a while, I looked past the good looks and was amazed at the acting, how natural he was and how very comfortable he was with himself and his character.

And I was all, "dayum, the man's good."

It was a year or so later that a friend of mine from college asked me to go to the movies with him to see Serenity, which was a big-screen adaptation of a television show that had been canceled. The girl that lived next door to my dorm was in love with the show and would frequently let people borrow her DVDs. After hearing about it from her and now from my friend, I went and researched the show called Firefly. An outer space western, complete with a snarky pirate-cowboy captain and his rowdy crew. And said captain, Malcolm Reynolds, was played by Nathan Fillion.

"Hells yes, I'll go!" I said to my friend. We went to the movies and I was far from disappointed. While the movie was non-stop action and great effects and humor, it was Nathan who shined as Mal Reynolds, sarcasting (new word!) his way through the film with his devil-may-care grin and southern lilt. And girls all across the galaxy swooned, including this one right here. I was hooked.

For Firefly, Nathan won the "Cinescape Genre Face of the Future - Male" award by the Academy of Science Fiction, Fantasy & Horror Films, USA, as well as the SyFy Genre Awards in 2006 for Best Actor/Television.

Isn't it nice when others recognize greatness?

I then found out that when Fox canceled the acclaimed Firefly, he and Alan Tudyk (another actor made of awesome) threw a party for the cast and crew. The infamous 'We Don't Work for FOX Anymore!' Party. After learning this, I wasn't just hooked, I was in lust love.

Nathan went on to star in the horror-comedy Slither, which I watched for the first time last night. I don't usually do well with horror movies, but I find that as I age and generally care less and less about everything horror doesn't bother me the way it used to. But anyway, what an awesome spoof movie, especially for him. Nathan does snark so well; we're made for each other. He won a 2006 Fangoria Chainsaw Awards nomination for Slither in the category of Dude You Don't Wanna Mess With.

He also had the starring role in the doomed TV show Drive, another Fox canceled production. My mother had been hooked on this show and was devastated when it ended. My weekly TV line-up was so booked that I had no time to watch it, but I, too, was saddened that Fox once again screwed him over (and not in the good, life-affirming way, either).

Waitress came out in 2006 to the delight of critics everywhere. Nathan played opposite Kerri Russell as a doctor with whom she begins an affair (and who the fuck can blame her? I mean, seriously?), but then ends things with him! Bitch is crazy. The film was critically acclaimed. Unfortunately, the director, Adrienne Shelley, was murdered before she could see the film open at the 2007 Sundance Film Festival. (RIP, Adrienne)

Sorry to bring down the party. Back to Nathan.

Nathan launched a charitable project called "Kids Need to Read" on August 6th, 2007. I swear to God, the man's making a long-distance proposal to me. Usually I'm the one trying to get kids to read. I reiterate: we're made for each other.

According to www.imdb.com, Nathan's working on the new movie Trucker. WITH MICHELLE MONAGHAN. 2008 is going to be the best year ever.

So, in conclusion:

1. Nathan Fillion is about as close to "GOD" as one can get, aside from Donald Sutherland and Sean Biggerstaff.

2. He's an amazing actor whose talents are totally under-appreciated.

3. My ring size is a 6, but I wear rings on my middle finger only, so a 7's probably better. And I don't wear gold, Nathan, just to give you the head's up.


Go out, my gentle snowflakes, and go buy Firefly and Serenity and Waitress and Slither. You can also watch him on Sundays where he plays Adam Mayfair on Desperate Housewives.

And then write to Fox and tell them that they suck.

What To Watch on a Rainy Saturday Night

Mystery Science Theater 3000. MST3k.

Probably the best show ever.

Do you hate B-movies? Or love to hate them? Would you like to watch a guy and 2 robots watch them and make fun of them all the way through?

Then this is the show for you.

All episodes can be found on Youtube. I recommend "Prince of Space", "Werewolf", and "Santa Claus Conquers the Martians".

Nobody Owns Frank Lucas: "American Gangster" movie review

Ridley Scott, I love you. You know why? Because you directed Alien, that's why. Because you directed G.I. Jane and Gladiator.

And I know you meant well with this film, I really do. But you didn't quite mean well enough.

For the first, oh, let's say 1.25 hours of American Gangster, I had only four thoughts enter my head:

1. Damn, Denzel's still got it, never lost it come to think of it, and will always have it.

2. Those damn kids in front of me better stop throwing shit at the moviegoers in front of them or I'm going to flip my shit, and why the hell are 10-year olds in this kind of a movie, anyway?

3. Wow, this is dragging.

4. Russell Crowe's going to throw a phone at somebody.

While the performances were nothing short of great (what can you expect from Denzel Washington and that guy who uses Nextel as his own personal WMD?), the movie itself was too long, too convoluted, and didn't have enough screen time for Chiwetel Ejiofor.

However, it did somewhat pick up during the second half, only to fall a bit short again. It wasn't until the climax (the police raid) that I really sat up and paid attention to something other than the performances and the dialog. This scene was so eye-popping and -- dare I say it -- real. For a film set in the 1970's, they didn't go all anachronistic and fit the squad with flak jackets and M-16's. They gave them rifles, boot-cut blue jeans, and mallets.

That was one thing I really enjoyed about the movie: they never let you forget what the time period was. Vietnam was always being talked about and being used for financial gain, people were driving cars I don't even know the names of, they were listening to 60's and 70's dance music, and a 20% tip for a full breakfast was $1.

Ridley Scott tried his best, but there was something about this film that fell flat, even among all the charismatic gangsters, the interesting drug ring, the family dramas, the police corruption.

American Gangster is a lot better than most of the movies out there, but it certainly isn't the best. But I recommend it to anyone who has 2.5 hours to spare and whoever wants to see the Denzel Washington at his high point.

Plus, I hear that Russell's buying stock in T-Mobile, so you'd better go if you value your face.

I give American Gangster a 4/5.

Wow, way to knock me out of my comfort zone, ABC.

I was perfectly fine with disliking this season of Grey's. I've felt like it's lost a lot of its magic, especially when we take into consideration the whole thing with Eva (recycling the Denny Duquette storyline? C'mon, Shonda.) and this George-Izzie relationship that makes me want to throw up in my mouth.

So, after missing the first half of last week's episode and tuning in and out of the second half, I decided to sit down and watch last night's episode, "Physical Attraction, Chemical Reaction (4.07)".

And it was good.

::blink::

Did I miss a meeting? I mean, seriously, I was all good with Grey's going steadily downhill. I'd come to terms with it after the whole "let's crash a CRUISELINER INTO A FUCKING BRIDGE" hullabaloo, or whatever happened.

And today? I felt a spark while watching. The spark I'd felt back when I first started with Season 1. Maybe it's the Dr. Hahn replacing Burke as the Cardiothorastic guru, or maybe it's Derek and Meredith hopefully getting their shit together. Maybe it's Lexie Grey, Meredith's half-sister, and all of her adorable awkwardness.

MAYBE IT'S BECAUSE EVA'S FINALLY GONE!!!!

Whatever it is, life is slowly creeping back into this show. I do have a few complaints that ABC may soon fix:

1. You turned Callie from a kick-ass force of nature into a scatter-brained, incompetent, mopey incompetent. Um, stop?

2. I still think Kate Walsh needs to come back to the show. That Private Practice is wonderfully mediocre and she's squandering her talent there. But if she wants to bring Tim Daly with her, then by all means...

3. Izzie and George used to be likable. Now they're just annoying. And together, they make me want to go out and start lighting fires. Do whatever you have to in order to end this. Izzie'd already said she'd lost the love of her life when Denny died, and then two seconds later she's confessing her love to George? I don't buy it, and neither does the rest of the audience. CUT. THE. SHIT.


Conclusion: Looks like my Thursday nights are booked again. Damn.

Interview with the Va-- Director.

The stairs groaned their displeasure as I walked up to the door that would lead me to my very first interview, two plates of home-made chocolate chip peanut butter cookies balancing in my hand. All I could think about was that I knew how it would go: he would listen to my questions, stifle a laugh, and then suggest I come back once I gained a modicum of intelligence.

It was almost enough to make me leave the cookies at the door and high-tail it back down the stairs.

But despite my worries I knocked and waited a moment until the door swung open, revealing Devon Scalisi, veteran actor of Salem State and first-time director. He smiled disarmingly and ushered me in, thanking me again for doing this (and for making cookies).

"This is my first interview," Devon admitted as we took our two-person party into his room. He sprawled out in his computer chair, the very picture of relaxed grace, and I sat stiffly on the edge of his bed, shuffling my questions and toying with the blue bedspread. His fingers tapped out a cigarette from a pack that materialized out of nowhere, deftly igniting the end. Devon took a drag from it and sighed at the rush of nicotine.

"That's good," I laughed, voice quavering. "This is my first interview, too. We can be horrible together!"

He snorted and I added 'suave' to the list of the things in life I've failed at being.

"Okay," I began, taking out my camera to film the entire conversation, and suddenly he sat up straight, all business now, eyes smoldering and mouth pinched into a thin line. "Why 12 Angry Jurors?"

Harmless question. Hopefully I would get an answer just as innocuous.

With a thoughtful noise, he tapped the accumulating ashes from his cigarette into a glass ashtray. "Why 12 Angry Jurors… when I first started to look for a play, I started to think about ensemble, something where no one would be hogging the spotlight. It was important to me to have everyone on the same page. When you have leads, for example: they have their bows at the end, and if you have something like A Doll's House, Nora and Torvald will undoubtedly take the last bow. As they should, for they're the two characters that move the story along. I didn't want to have [in 12 Angry Jurors] main characters that the story revolves around. Sure, there are characters that speak more than others in the show, but you need the 12 to move the story along. I wanted an ensemble piece where the characters would be on stage together, growing together, with no separation."

He trailed off and then smiled, satisfied, while I sat there gaping like a fool, wondering how I would ever edit something that in-depth, how I would be able to take anything out of an answer like that and still leave it whole.

"Cool," tumbled inadequately from my lips and I inwardly groaned. He must have thought I was the most life-challenged person to ever walk the earth. I drew in a shaky breath. "I, um, sorry." I glanced back down at the sheet of paper, at the second question which was horribly cliché. My career in journalism was looking dismal. And then I remembered that I wasn't a journalist.

I lifted my head and met his eye. He'd been acting all his life; I could act for the next half hour and make him believe I was Confidence incarnate. "You're an actor first, having performed in a great many plays (including William Shakespeare's Julius Caesar, Edward Albee's Zoo Story, John Guare's Six Degrees of Separation, and Samuel Beckett's Endgame), so when was it that you first started acting? What was your first actual performance?"

A grin lit Devon's face, and I relaxed. He was going to play along. " I first started acting -- my first actual play performance -- my senior year of high school. I had a teacher who, with the drama department, was putting on a musical, and I wasn't a musical guy, I still have problems with them but have learned to embrace them more now." He laughed and shrugged, tapping the ashes off his cigarette, quickly burning to the filter. "So, I didn't participate and my teacher wanted to know why. I told him I didn't have any interest. He asked me what I would like to do, and I said I'd like to perform gritty, little one-acts, grittier theater, because I had done some class work for Equus at the time and it really enticed me.

"So we turned a classroom into a make-shift, small little black box theater, and we would perform these one-acts for an audience who could fit into this classroom. I did three of them my senior year, one or two or three-person shows, and I loved it. That was my first real taste of theater."

His answers were so fluid, so natural, that I felt I was watching a really good movie, where it feels like no time at all passes. I was so enraptured with his words, absorbing them, that it took me a moment to realize he had finished and was now looking expectantly at me for the next question.

"When did you decide you were ready to direct?"

He chuckled. "Oh, wow… hm. That's a good question." I glowed under the praise. "I'd taken a directing class a year and a half ago, but because of my schedule I had to drop it, I had too much going on. Then I re-took it last year, but I mean… I knew I wanted to try it eventually. I like to think I have an organized mind, a grander scheme of a conceptual vision, but I would never actually label myself as a potential director. I've always been an actor-in-training. After being here so long, I felt I'd come to a point -- in my Super Senior Year," he broke off to grin, "and decided that in the setting of a student theater ensemble production (shows put on and acted by students) it would be the time to start directing."

It was time to reveal a secret no journalist would ever admit to: "So, I don't know all that much about the play" -- ouch -- "but I know that there's this idea of a mandatory death sentence, which couldn't be instilled in the current justice system. In what kind of world does the play take place?"

His answer was immediate. "1975. Catherine Bertrand (the artistic director) and I were deciding on a time for the play to take place, and we decided upon 1975 after some research. It was the year of Taylor vs. Louisiana, a case in which -- in the end -- his verdict shouldn't have been. It was also a time in which women didn't serve on a jury panel… actually, 1975 was the last year that this rule was present. Louisiana was the last state to get rid of it.

"1975 was a violent era. The social norm was changing; it was a post-hippie world, Vietnam was ending, Nixon resigned… people were turning to sex, drugs, disco as modes of escape while the reality was that things were extremely tense. Angry. It was an era of hostility. The Taylor vs. Louisiana case just added to it: a panel of white men deciding the fate of a minority."

Almost finished. "The play was originally titled "12 Angry Men", but there are women cast in some of the roles. What were your intentions behind this?"

A bright smile curled his lips. "Sherman Sergel wrote a version titled 12 Angry Women, but the dialog was softened. Women are normally written to be more sensitive -- I don't like that, and I didn't like that version, so I used the script from 12 Angry Men. I wanted the women to have language tendencies of men."

I grinned, his happiness infectious. "Do you plan on directing anything in the future?"

"Yes! In fact, the theater group I helped co-found, Counter-Productions Theater Company, is putting on a production of Glengarry Glen Ross by David Mamet at the Factory Theater in South Boston. It's another grittier play, another depiction of the raw side of the human equation. The violent deconstruction of man, and the greed of man."

Trying to think of a good segue-way into my last question failed, so I asked outright, staring at this man, a chameleon, a creator, a voice that spoke above most others. "Any advice for all the aspiring directors out there?"

"Know why you want to do a show. "Because I like it" doesn't cut it. Have a reason, know how you want to affect an audience. Theater exists for the audience, not for the glory of a director. Find honesty in the piece. You have to love a show to illustrate what it can do for everyone else."


12 Angry Jurors is playing at the Callan Studio Theater November 8th, 9th, 10th at 8pm and the 11th at 2pm.

Gone, baby. Just gone.

Ben Affleck, I'm not a religious person by any stretch, but I mean it sincerely when I say that I forgive you your trespasses.

Ben's directorial debut was fan-f*cking-tastic, and I mean that. It's so nice to pay $10 and not see something that sucks. Gone, Baby, Gone was ridiculously good. There wasn't a bad thing about it.

Let's start with the synopsis: In the gritty streets of South Boston, a little girl named Amanda McCready goes missing, her disheveled mother begging on TV for whoever it was that took her to let her come home. Local private investigators and lovers, Patrick Kenzie and Angie Gennaro, are asked by the little girl's aunt and uncle to assist in the case, already the police's top priority. Along with two detectives, Patrick uncovers a conspiracy that delves far deeper than mere police corruption.

Casey Affleck ("the cuter and better actor" Affleck brother) bursts into his first leading role with such genuineness and skill, you'd think he'd been an A-list actor for years. He was so quietly real, so hard as Patrick, both real man and character having been cultivated on the streets of Southie. On a scale of 1-10, his performance was a 10 to the 10th power.

Ed Harris played detective Remy Bressant, a man who's seen many things, who believes that sometimes you need to do the wrong thing in order to do the right. Harris, a veteran actor, was awesome, and not at all what he appeared. Bressant was the kind of anti-hero you love... only to find your faith in him shattered when you get too comfortable. There were moments where I felt like he was yelling at me, he was so into it.

The supporting cast was great, Michelle Monaghan as Angie, the idealist girlfriend and voice of reason. I loved her so much as Harmony in Kiss Kiss Bang Bang, one of my favorite comedies, and I was glad to see her skill wasn't limited to just humor. Amy Ryan as coked-out Helene McCready was phenomenal, continually having me torn between cringing at her language and indifference to her child's disappearance and sympathizing with her as the reality of the situation came crashing down upon her. Amy Madigan as Beatrice was amazingly heartfelt, her desperation to find Amanda at any cost just tugged at me. Titus Welliver is a new face for me, but he was great, although his mustache was a bit distracting (it had its own life force, like Sam Waterston's eyebrows).

And Morgan Freeman is Morgan Freeman. 'Nuff said. There are no words for his greatness.

The cinematography, though, was what clinched it, the shots of Boston, of the real people who inhabit Southie, never sparing us from those who would be deemed ugly or disgusting. There would be shots of the sides of buildings, eroding with time and carelessness, graffitied, everyone leaving their mark. There was one shot of a quarry, surrounded by jagged cliffs, that reflected the sky in the water, and it was like looking up a well into the sky up-side down. I wanted that image hanging on my wall, it was so well captured.

The film itself always left you guessing until the very end, never revealing a thing. The viewer learned with Patrick, was a part of the investigation from beginning to end to after-end. It was a poignant piece that will definitely stay with me, cement Ben Affleck's career as a director, and open up a mess of doors for the littlest Affleck.

I give Gone Baby Gone 5 out of 5.

Rest In Peace...

Robert Goulet is dead.

::cries::

Nov. 26, 1933 - Oct. 30, 2007

It's, like, impossible....

... that TV has a show THIS good. Seriously. I remember when I used to like Grey's Anatomy, but not even that or Heroes can compare to the love I have for Dirty Sexy Money.

But Trip wasn't so awesome in this episode. WHICH SHOWS HOW AMAZING AN ACTOR DONALD SUTHERLAND REALLY IS!!!!

In the latest episode, "The Bridge", it's the twins' 25th birthday, which means that they're being awarded $25 million each. To "help them get started" in life. Their first checkbook. Um, I better get some of that when I turn 25. The things I could do... the places I could travel...

Anyhoo.

Brian Jr. tells Mei Ling Hwa that Brian Sr. is his father and she freaks the eff out, announcing that she's made her choice and wants a divorce. Brian has a meltdown of his own, confides in Nick (!!), and eventually goes to Mei Ling Hwa for a second chance. She orders both father and son out of the house until she makes her decision. The two Brians go to live with Trip and Letitia in Brian Sr.'s old room. IT'S SO CUTE.

Karen wants Patrick to get Freddie into the exclusive club Patrick's a member of. When he refuses, Karen sweetly asks after his special friend (Carmelita)... "the one with the low voice and the eyeliner". WHAT A GOOD DELIVERY. Karen, I can't like you, I need to hate someone on this show. But God, you were so bomb in this episode. Natalie Zea, you're so cool. I want to be you when I grow up. Anyway, Patrick eventually brings Freddie into the club, and Freddie's welcomed warmly by two members who reminisce about some golf thing Freddie did in the past, yadda yadda, yawn.

Nick has a meeting with Simon Elder, who tells Nick (vaguely) about his past and the role Dutch played in it. Simon and Dutch were apparently good friends... and Simon implies that Trip probably had something to do with Dutch's plane going down. After a very insightful limo-ride, Simon leaves Nick with a "no-strings" option: go work for him and do all the charity work Nick wants to do (but can't, since he's babysitting the Darlings).

As for the twins, they are split over the Natalie Kimpton thing and therefore demand to hold their own birthday parties -- for $2 million... each. Juliet gets the house to hold hers, and Jeremy... gets the Brooklyn Bridge.

Yes, let me repeat that: the Brooklyn Bridge.

Juliet then learns from her friend, Astrid, that a pregnant Natalie had asked Astrid for a tampon the previous week at a club. Seems Natalie ain't so preggo no mo'. Jeremy confronts Natalie about it at his party and she admits that she'd thought she was pregnant, but when it turned out she wasn't she just kept up the story. Jeremy, heartbroken, tells her to stay away from him. And then proceeds to sing "All By Myself" on top of the bridge, a move that causes his party to be broken up by the cops.

Trip and Jeremy have a bit of a tiff over Jeremy being irresponsible with his life, for not being the kind of man Trip wants him to be. Nick tells Trip that he's not being fair to Jeremy, that Jeremy needs to live his own life. At the end of the episode, Jeremy apologizes to Trip and asks him for help in finding a job, which makes daddy so proud and Courtney all teary-eyed.

Letitia was in this episode somewhere, but she cheated on Trip (and therefore Donald Sutherland) for 40 years, so she doesn't count.

But it makes me wonder if the DNA reports show that it's not that one of the Darlings isn't hers, but that Nick may be a Darling....

Verrrrrrry interesting.

AND NOW I HAVE TO WAIT ANOTHER 2 DAYS UNTIL THE NEXT EPISODE!!!!! Which I won't even see. Thanks a lot, Halloween. You ruined everything.

Blessed Irreverance... Or, the return of the "chester" comics.

Chester Comics was a series of short, semi-surreal comics about the people at my former college. They were quite the hit, but after I transferred I stopped making them. However, I decided a few weeks ago that I would continue them, only dealing with a much broader playing field, different people and subject matter...

And I bring them to you!





edit: I hate this blog template.

The Day Has Come, and What a Sad Day It Is....

What day, you might ask? The day I got through about ten minutes of Heroes before I decided it'd be worth my time to make some eggplant parm and doodle.

AKA: I didn't care enough to watch it. The show is just so boring, and these "twists"... I'm passionately ambivalent about it all. Just like tonight. It's on in half an hour, I have an essay to write, and I really couldn't care.

TIM KRING, IT'S TOO EARLY FOR YOU TO START GOING DOWNHILL!!! GET RID OF MAYA AND ALEJANDRO, GET HIRO BACK TO THE PRESENT, AND TELL HAYDEN TO STOP FLAT-IRONING HER HAIR AND THEN WE'LL TALK!!!!


In other news, Dumbledore from the Harry Potter series is gay. If anyone didn't see that coming, please exit out of this window and never return. (see below)

I was really surprised J.K. Rowling didn't out Remus, who was gayer than a summer morning. But he's dead and happily reunited with his ex-convict-but-not-really boyfriend in the afterlife. Or something.

...

Anyway, I really want to see Gone, Baby, Gone. Really really. Has anyone seen it yet? Would anyone be willing to go? Not this weekend, I have a slew of Halloween parties to attend, but sometime soon?

SPEAKING OF! My Halloween costume?


I was going to learn how to do a backhand spring, but then I would've been Harley Quinn in a wheelchair.

FOILED AGAIN!

Oh, for crying out loud. This so figures.

Thanks for dashing all my hopes and dreams, WGA.


http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/21386389/

SPOTLIGHT! And it's on.... Sean Biggerstaff!

SPOTLIGHT, my newest segment, is about actors or actresses you should really be aware of.

I'm pleased to announce that the first (and foremost!) entry goes to Sean Biggerstaff. For those of you who know me, you know I can never say enough about Cashback or The Winter Guest (although as much as I talk about Sean in that movie, I'm actually saying more about Emma Thompson... but I digress).

I swear to God, the UK feeds their kids some secret drug that makes them superior to everyone else. All the talented actors and actresses come from across the pond. Hey, UK, can you send us some of that stuff over here? We're really lacking (not counting Donald Sutherland, Morgan Freeman, and Kevin Spacey. I was going to list Cate Blanchett and Judy Dench, but, oh, they're from the UK, aren't they?).

Anyway, Sean Biggerstaff made himself known to me when I saw the first Harry Potter movie. For those of you still scratching your heads, he played Oliver Wood. And he was quite the commodity in my eyes, because as an American child I was taught only three things about Scotland (his home country):

1. It's the land in which men wear skirts.
2. There's a dinosaur in a lake.
3. Sean Connery created the universe.

So to see someone that young command a five-minute scene with such relaxed confidence and good humor was pleasantly surprising. (But remember that I was thirteen at the time, so it was mostly "OH MY GOD, HE HAS A SCOTTISH ACCENT!" But looking back, I can appreciate the actual acting now.)

I was fortunate enough to stumble upon www.imdb.com a couple of years ago, so one day after re-watching that scene in Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, I wandered on over to IMDB to see if Sean had any other films out.

He did. Former fashion photographer-turned-writer-director Sean Ellis put out an Oscar-nominated short called Cashback, which was then made into a feature-length indie film of the same name. Starring... you guessed it! Sean Biggerstaff.

(Sidenote: I can hear the girls giggling over his last name. Yes, it's riotous, great, we're done, moving on.)

I purchased Cashback (for an obscene amount of money... more than $19.99, I can tell you that much) on Amazon.com, because I couldn't find it for the life of me in stores. Apparently Best Buy only caters to huge blockbusters like Pirates of the Caribbean instead of wonderful sleepy films like Cashback. Well, boo to them. Anyway, I watched it one afternoon while straightening my hair. It required a second watch.

And a third. And a fourteenth. Because it was good. I could go into the cinematography and the directing choices, but as great as those were this movie was all about Sean. His portrayal of Ben was genuine. It's what I love most about his acting, of what little I've seen. He has this knack for just sliding into character and making the performance so believable that I have trouble discerning him from the character he's playing. It happened with Oliver, it happened with Tom (The Winter Guest), and it happened with Ben. Within the first ten minutes of the movie, I felt as if I, too, had insomnia and hadn't slept in forever. And I was totally and completely certain that Ben was indeed an artist just coming out of a break-up who was so unsure of what to do with all of his newfound free time (time he would have once spent sleeping) that he joined the graveyard shift at a supermarket.

Whew.

Reader's Digest version: Sean became Ben, inside and out. End of story.

Sean just played the lead in the BBC drama Consenting Adults, all about the life of Jeremy Wolfenden, and is in an upcoming movie, Hippie Hippie Shake, alongside Sienna Miller and Cillian Murphy about counterculturalist Richard Neville's misadventures in London at the end of the 1960s. It sounds like a promising premise. Everyone loves the 60's.

But back to Sean.

I really hope to see more of him sometime soon, and I hear that his stage work is phenomenal. Maybe one day I'll be able to see him in an off-Broadway play, or even on Broadway! Wouldn't that be something?

Sean Biggerstaff has fast become one of my favorite actors, right up there with Donald and Alan. He's just too talented not to be. A lot of people aren't aware of him (until I mention Oliver Wood, and then comes the collective "Ohhhh..."), and they should be. So my advice is to re-watch the Quidditch scenes in Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, rent The Winter Guest, buy Cashback, and petition to bring him to American shores so we can see him on stage.

Sean? Here's to you and your illustrious career!

Sidenote 1.5: I wrote him a letter not too long ago. I've become that which I hate: those annoying fangirls. Ugh. Whatever, he's so cool that he deserved it.

Sidenote 2: I won't even lie. I'm in the middle of writing a screenplay, and I'm writing one of the main characters for him. Good thing the Writer's Guild isn't going on strike or this would be a waste of time. Oh, wait...


(+) =

... You guys have no idea what I'm talking about.

Maroon 5 was a bit fushia...

Well, I have to admit that I'm a bit disappointed in Maroon 5. I saw them last night at the Fleet Center (or whatever they're calling it this week) in Boston, along with 260,000 screaming 14-year olds.

I don't know what it was. Perhaps it was Adam Levine's awkward connections with the crowd, continually making innuendoes about feeling heat and being sexy. The only time I was interested in him speaking was when he introduced the band members.

They did play some of their best hits, but I was disappointed to find that they focused more on songs from Songs About Jane than they did from their new album, It Won't Be Soon Before Long. They never played "Not Falling Apart", which is one of the best songs on the album, nor did they play "Back At Your Door", which is my favorite song off of It Won't Be Soon...

And that 6 minute drum solo? Genesis's drum solo went for 11 minutes longer, and it was a lot better.

Because Genesis is better, but that's another story.

All in all, it was an okay concert. The Hives opened for them and I enjoyed their performance. I've never seen anyone so energetic on stage before, not even when I saw Bon Jovi. But if you have the chance to see Maroon 5, I suppose you can take the opportunity.

And then my mother (my concert buddy) told me that she could've gotten tickets for the Gone Baby Gone premiere (Ben Affleck's new movie), and didn't so we could see Maroon 5. I could've been on the red carpet asking Ben Affleck about his new directing career (which is being lauded by critics) but instead I was at a wonderfully mediocre concert.

Sometimes I wonder if my family members stopped getting oxygen to their brains.

WHATEVER YOU DO, PET THE HORSES!!!

Two movies in a weekend. Not bad. But today, my gentle snowflakes, I'm here to talk about the most amazing legal drama I've seen in a while: Michael Clayton.

See, whenever I go to see a George Clooney movie, I'm afraid it's just going to be a bunch of "ooh, look at me, I'm good-looking." And as much as George loves mugging for the camera, this movie was really great.

Two of my favorite actors were in this: Tom Wilkinson (AWESOME British actor) and Tilda Swinton (AWESOME British actress). I smell a pattern!

George Clooney stars as Michael Clayton, the "janitor" sent by a major law firm to clean up messes. He's the best at what he does... too bad he doesn't do the whole 'life' thing too well. Between a failed foray into the restaurant business with his alcoholic brother (who got into trouble with the Irish mob, leaving Michael to pay his dues) and a gambling problem, Michael can't find the time to pay attention to his son or take a day off.

He works for Kenner, Bach & Leeder law firm, cleaning up all of the client messes, hit and runs, and handling stories about crooked politicians or "shoplifting housewives".

U-North, the agrochemical company that is being represented by Kenner, Bach & Leeder, is successfully closing a 3 billion-dollar case in which small farm owners filed suit against the company, claiming that the U-North chemicals were hazardous and potentially lethal. The company's brilliant litigator, Arthur Edens (Wilkinson -- MY MAN!), has a breakdown and holds in his possession everything that could sabotage the case, giving the money to the plaintiffs. And U-North's in-house chief counselor, Tilda Swinton (the White Witch from Narnia, kids), is doing everything she can to keep it quiet.

But it falls to Michael to clean it up, and possibly learn things about himself in the process. Like that, yes, we know you have a perfect smile, thanks.

This movie totally had my attention from the get-go. It's incredibly smart and very suspenseful. I took my YiaYia (grandmother in Greek)to see it, and she really enjoyed it. It made her think afterward.

YiaYia: "You know, Courtney, you say that every movie you see is good."
Me: "That's because I don't see bad movies, YiaYia."


I give Michael Clayton a 5 out of 5. You guys should really invest your $10.25 to see it. You won't be disappointed.

ps: Whatever you do, pet the goddamn horses.