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Archive for the ‘huzzah’ Category

michael rides again

Posted by rollinsloane on 27 March 2009

michael scott revs to glory   

michael scott revs to glory

the office

episode 5.19 – two weeks (Original Air Date: 3/26/2009)

official synopsis: “Michael gives Corporate two weeks notice, giving him freedom to do whatever he wants in the office.”


oscar: “I love a good quitting story…it makes me feel like I have control over my own life.” so sad, so true

michael’s new drink: scotch and splenda! note to self…

michael lounging around drunk at work with just a week left…yes, michael is an idiot, but come on – you know that’s what you would want to do

michael, deferential and sarcastic to new all-business boss: “your ‘I need you to’ is my command.”  

the brief exchange between the new outside managerial hire, politely signing in with pam, and michael, lulling boozily on the reception area sofa. it would make for an interesting situation even without michael’s buffoonery

kevin to pam, re the still-broken copier machine: “you said it would be ready by today, and it is today.”

monsters scream on michael’s computer. jim responds instantly – “it’s” – revealing his familiarity not just with (the job site), but with the same stupid misspelling that michael just committed.  brilliant snippet.

michael, in reaction to pam’s gentle discouragement after announcing his new plans to start his own paper company: “I have had this dream since lunch, and I am not giving up on it now.”

michael tells andy that he’s starting his own paper company. andy: “in this climate?” michael: “in all climates. I’m going worldwide.”

dwight’s reaction to hearing (from andy) that michael was starting his own paper company…I had to watch it twice. he and michael go through so many little uncertain jerks and emotional twists and not a single full sentence

meredith, as pam shows off her copier skills, in total boredom: “little miss thing wants attention.” zing!

I feel for pam in her travails against the copier…I have so many little gadgets that bewilder me so much that I’d rather not use them than sink time trying to fix and understand them, and to be beaten by them in public is truly frustrating. worse yet, humiliating

michael scott vs. the man

michael scott vs. the man(s)

angela and kelly’s perpetually man-hungry dating styles…meh

toby’s somehow sweet, somewhat summarizing reaction to michael’s sudden departure: “michael’s like a movie on a plane. You know – it’s not great, but it’s something to watch.” (sidenote: doesn’t that seem to broadly apply to a lot of things in life?) “and then when it’s over, you’re like, how much time is left on this flight? now what?”

michael crawling camo-style across the office after being kicked out…actually somehow moving when you think about it

pam with michael, kevin at reception, stanley suddenly promoted…give the writers credit, they know how to mix things up without changing the core set-up

the nice-guy cometh

the nice-guy cometh


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some humor for funny games

Posted by rollinsloane on 14 March 2008

Naomi Watts stars in Michael Haneke’s current update of his own 1997 cinematic spectacle of “arthouse torture-porn.”  LA Citybeat critic Andy Klein’s headline: Watts No Riot.  Ha.  That’s balls.


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huzzah: megan garber tells it like it is

Posted by rollinsloane on 7 March 2008

In the meta-media industry of watchdogging the watchdogs, perhaps no single institution offers more valuable analysis than the Columbia Journalism Review, self-described as yes, a watchdog, but ultimately a caring 0friend to the multi-faceted industry that is the press.  And within CJR, perhaps no single observer takes the media to task with as much panache as Megan Garber.  Her salty, nuanced tirades against inanity and sensationalism express such frustration and disbelief that editors and producers responsible should want for sleep the night after a mention.

Garber rolls her eyes at the New York Times‘ “proud tradition of publishing stories about Trends You Didn’t Realize Were Trends Until the Times Let You Know They Were.”

Yesterday the Grey Lady cast her storied gaze on a trend of a More Serious Variety: drunkorexia. (No, not a typo: again, drunkorexia.) The “phenomenon” is exactly what the compound name implies: anorexics consuming alcohol—either “to calm down before eating or to ease the anxiety of having indulged in a meal.” Now, to be clear, “drunkorexia is not an official medical term,” the piece points out. “But it hints at a troubling phenomenon in addiction and eating disorders.”

Garber identifies the true trend at work here — “trendinanity” — although the scolding is a light as its subject matter.  She saves true vitriol for the classically poor-taste “Women Are Dim” article that the Washington Post featured last week.  Charlotte Allen’s piece was apparently intended to be tongue-in-cheek, but Garber doesn’t let even mild intentions slide.

Well, that explains it! Her piece isn’t pandering to silly stereotypes; it’s transcending them. But in such a cleverly subtle way as to be entirely undetectable: it’s so meta that you can’t even tell it’s meta! Allen’s tongue is so firmly in cheek, apparently, she could choke herself.

But irony’s a tricky little weapon; if you’re going to use it, of course, you have to brandish it brazenly enough for people to know it’s there. Allen, alas, did not. Believe me, I looked—Feminine Empathy and whatnot—for some hint of the sarcasm that would redeem both the article and its author. I found none.

Someone’s got to the patrol the popular press, and I for one am glad we’ve got Megan Garber to do it.

— Sloane 

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mmm…pretty panoramas

Posted by rollinsloane on 5 March 2008

The magic of the internet has put the magic of awesome photography at our fingertips in any number of forums (Flickr, lomography), but maybe none are quite as awesome as  Featuring a collection of panoramic views from locales worldwide, it’s like taking a two-minute vacation in the middle of work.


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sexploitation at fairfax’s silent theater

Posted by rollinsloane on 1 March 2008

It’s hard to consider Fairfax’s Silent Movie Theater a hidden LA gem, especially considering the packed house that showed up for last night’s screening of Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill! (even the theater’s 3-to-a-seat couches were stuffed, presumably by some uncomfortable strangers). But I certainly haven’t come across much press coverage of what must be the top arthouse theater in this very movie-minded town. Even my LA-born-and-bred cinephile butt had never before been; last night’s wham-bam conclusion to SMT’s Russ Meyer month proved the perfect introduction.

The thin wooden seats are too hard and too close together, but they all come with plump corduroy pillows and it’s the sort of place where you might get to know your neighbor anyway. In lieu of pre-screening ads or trailers, the 4×3 screen played a real police training video from the 70s featuring “To Shoot or not to Shoot” scenarios (hilarious for its paranoia, frightening for being real), and I for one didn’t miss the bogus pre-show usher speech now playing in every hoity-toity cineplex in this goddamn town.

Then on to the main event. Where to even begin. Pussycat (1965) is trash cinema at its most innocent, as if all involved were simply riding high on the freedom of being totally outrageous. Its violence is unmotivated, but cleanly bloodless; it oozes with the sexuality of tight leather and innuendo, but plays it for laughs and holds it to mere kisses. Pussycat wise cracks — it’s too happy-go-lucky to offend.

Don’t get me wrong, though — it’s still sexploitation. How many countless feminist film majors have earned their Ph.D with a lengthy examination of writer-director-producer Russ Meyer‘s sexual politics? This man’s bread-and-butter was the burgeoning soft-core industry; as a Playboy centerfold photographer, Meyer was in the perfect place to nudge the new, ahem, art form along. But Pussycat‘s backbone remains its strangely theater-ready script, a tangle of fascinating character dynamics that go beyond its ludicrous plot.

Basically, three go-go dancers-cum-renegade bad-asses stalk the California desert in a trio of sweet 60s sports cars. That’s it. Along the way they terrorize a wholesome young and try to rob a crippled rancher and his two sons, and murky chaos ensues. But mostly they wear tight close and sling about their fantastic hair. Led by tough-talking fem-sadist Varla (Tura Satana, with her own soap operatic backstory and a downright perfect name), these sex-starved ladies (played by embodied by Haji, a purring Italian-looking Canadian, and Lori Williams, the ultimate all-American blonde) could single-handedly bring back high-waisted jeans.

 faster pussycats

(Let’s just hope Quentin Tarantino’s recently announced desire for a remake featuring Eva Mendes, Kim Kardashian and Brittany Spears will never in a million f-ing years come to pass.  I can’t even believe I just read that.  I mean, I know he’s all about the homage, but if he does this out of love it would the ultimate in cinematic OJ Simpson. )

Check out the trailer below for a full-dose of the old-school soundtrack and cheesetastic acting:

Sexuality and strength and violence are all twisted up in there somewhere, and one of these days I’ll get my head around the mess. For now I’ll just be heading to the Silent every chance I get. This month’s calendar includes Philip Marlowe and 30s chorus lines, so feel free to shun Hollywood’s annual crap period and still get out to a hell of a show.


faster pussycat kill kill poster

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poster art for the cult set

Posted by rollinsloane on 29 February 2008

sweet warriors movie poster by tyler stout

Courtesy of the fine folks over at /film:

Two words: Tyler Stout.  This man needs some cinephile lovin, so pucker up.  In an age of Photoshop and shamefully juvenille studio graphics, this dude has managed to triumph with good old pen-and-ink, winning over the likes of retro-master Quentin Tarantino thanks to an f-ing rad gift for uber-detail.  With posters for movies, concerts and film festivals under his belt (not to mention fabric — there are some sweet hoodies on the market, s’all I’m saying), Mr. Stout has an impressive resume already going; as soon as I get my blockbuster monster-movie epics in the works (any decade now…), I’ll be enlisting him for some iconic design.


sweet movie poster for big trouble in little china by tyler stout

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get out the andre — we’re back

Posted by rollinsloane on 28 February 2008

So we finally got ourselves some minimum-wage jobs and assumed that even slave-labor cog work in the bowels of a fashion magazine would be mildly entertaining, but here we are, crawling back five weeks later, bored to tears. Get ready for more pop culture lovin, coming at you the way god intended — unencumbered by the inferior grammatical stylings of some overbearing “managing” editor.

— Sloane, Rafe & Ollie

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who knew? dali + disney = destino

Posted by rollinsloane on 4 January 2008

Hoooooooly cow. If you’re anywhere near southern California this weekend, stop by LACMA’s soon-closing Dali exhibit. A good long look at Spanish surrealist Salvador Dali’s too-few contributions to cinema, it features the recently completed short film he embarked on with Walt Disney in the 1940s — Destino.

Yeah, Salvador Dali and his whirling mustachios may seem like an odd dance partner for magic castle-builder Walt Disney, but, as LACMA curator Sara Cochran mentions, “Dalí could recognize, I don’t want to say genius, but talent, in other people. He obviously recognized in Harpo Marx a very kindred spirit…and I think also in Walt Disney. [He once deemed both of them “America’s surrealists”]. Roy Disney said some interesting things about how in some ways Disney and Dalí were both such optimists they really got on. They were people who were not interested in the barriers that were put in their way.”

Dali at this point was already a profiteer artist dabbling in the Hollywood studio system, having contributed a surrealist dream sequence to Hitchcock’s post-Freudian psychoanalysis thriller Spellbound (with Gregory Peck and Ingrid Bergman) amid other unfinished products, and Disney’s cartoon work, after all, is not exactly realism. Walt tapped him to draw something up for another Fantasia-like anthology feature (accordingly to Animation Art Conservation) and Dali proceeded to pour all his signature icons into the mix — lonely deserts, black and white checks, crumbling statues, telephones, eyes. The only thing I noticed lacking were those weird long legged elephants.

The film was abandoned after a year or two, and thank god the Disney company went ahead and finished it. Roy E. Disney came across the project’s remains while working on Fantasia 2000 and sent it to the company’s French animation studio to finish it up. Director Dominque Monfrey did an incredible job. The 2003 completed short was even nominated for an Academy Award (where have I been?) and, apparently, released theaterically with Calendar Girls (although I admit I’m more than dubious about that particularly Wikipedia claim):

Here’s a bit of the final product, the most that YouTube could offer. With lovely music by Mexican songwriter Armando Dominguez:


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film art: best posters 2007

Posted by rollinsloane on 4 January 2008

The film critics’ end-of-year bonanza in on at full tilt, but all involved seem to be forgetting the movies’ true visual impact on the widespread public — their posters. 2007 saw some slam-bang images at a bus stop near you. Here are the best (also: runner’s up and worst).

Black Snake Moan

What. The. Fuck. This dime store paperback-cum-deep fried circus poster just seethes with all the sex and violence the movie totally failed to deliver.

black snake moan

The Host

Did you see this movie? No? WHY NOT? Get thee to a Blockbuster and feast your eyes on the best CGI monster this side of Cloverfield. If this sweet sweet poster doesn’t sell you on the lusty terror of a terrific monster movie, then you don’t deserve it anyway.

the host movie poster

Grindhouse: Planet Terror

Yeah, the Grindhouse duo was an undercooked clunker. But these teasers for Robert Rodriguez’s Planet Terror got me in the theater anyway. Gruesome goodness: bold colors, thick outlines, and one lady-machine gun silhouette that’s downright iconic.

planet terror rose mcgowan
planet terror marley shelton

I’m Not There

For some reason the Weinstein Company went with Cate Blanchett’s wire-haired silhouette to promote Todd Haynes’s Bob Dylan dreamscape I’m Not There instead of this far more descriptive 60s-style montage. Audiences deserve a little visual warning before the cacophony of that movie, and this pictorial gives a better glimpse.i’m not there movie poster


Also: here are the best poster lists of /film (dude, Across the Universe?  are you kidding?) and (with the excellent addition of what-movie-was-that? King of California).  Mine, for the record, still rules.

Posted in filmdom, huzzah, the latest | Tagged: , , , , | 5 Comments »

I was promised blood

Posted by rollinsloane on 31 December 2007

Nothing mystifies me more than film critics, and I say that because I’m one of them. The rapturous praise showered on Paul Thomas Anderson’s promising but ultimately unfulfilling There Will Be Blood like so much fawning tween girl admiration has me ready to take a shotgun to the next film reviewer who feels obliged to use an exclamation mark. Amid the hypefest, it’s always refreshing to come across a voice of reason, and so I present to you an admirably sober look at a film that actually didn’t realize its powerful full potential. Thank you Andy Klein of LA’s Citybeat street press. For this I will at least consider forgiving your positive reception of the travesty that was Across the Universe.


Posted in filmdom, huzzah | Tagged: , , , | 1 Comment »