And now, your long-winded Monday Update
Apr. 26th, 2004 08:46 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jetpack_monkeyA few items of interest and note, broken up into easy to digest sections so that you find yourself reading an LJ post way longer than humanly necessary. Because I'm tricky like that.
* The Sunnydale Socks
I think most if not all of the people on my friendslist know that I'm a member of this organization/writing project/game/thing. Yesterday, I turned in my resignation. It was, for 7.5 months, a defining point in my existence. I checked posts at work. At home. I spent hours mulling over the characterization of one Parker Abrams, asshole. I met some of the most incredible people I will ever have chance to meet in my existence (and I would name you, but this is a public post, and I understand concerns for anonymity).
The Socks taught me respect for the minor character. That every little piece of flotsam and jetsom that passes down the pike (no pun intended) in Joss Whedon's universe had meaning, purpose, and a continued existence long after they've left the screen. It's been quite informative to whatever fanfic I may yet turn out.
It's also taught me much of human politics, and how people in a group operate. The singular fact of it is... any large group of people working towards a goal is going to get deeply political, whether they like it or not. It's a trap that cannot be avoided, and much as I tried, I found myself playing political games myself. It's interesting to note the changes that come over you when you get into a situation like that. As a writer of non-fanfiction, I expect those lessons will be useful later, also.
Most of all, though, what I have found in all of this is that passion is nothing when you cannot back it with the strength of your convictions. It is a lesson hard-earned, and some would argue that perhaps I have yet to grasp it in its fullness, but I feel like a stronger human being for having been a member of the Sunnydale Socks.
It was my first real experience truly, honestly working with a huge group of people to create something interesting that would be readable by the masses. I am incredibly proud of my work within the group, and I wish it a fantastic future.
(Also, I'm probably still going to be turning out one or two more Parker posts just to give him a proper send-off. I cannot imagine just leaving the guy where he is, and he means far too much to me to not say goodbye to properly)
* Ducks' Angelathon
Got my assignment last week, and I'm mulling over options on its writing. I'm not a stranger to darkfic (my pre-apocalyptic tale is certainly very, very dark), but this is certainly beyond what I've attempted before. I'm interested to see how it turns out. Oh, uh, anybody who's any good at writing Willow (and not just happy!fun!Willow) should get in contact with me, maybe give me some pointers. I'm always looking for fresh perspectives.
* The Novel
Spent some time with my sounding board yesterday, and discussed the problem of one-dimensional characters suddenly picking up layers (like ogres... or onions... or parfait), specifically that Anthony, my villain, was starting to get really interesting to me, and not just in a tall, dark, and evil way. Also, started to get an idea of exactly how the hero's journey would play out in the novel, and how exactly that I've been screwing with not only my readers, but myself, in the entire process of writing the thing. It's interesting how you can get to a point in writing your characters in your novel, and realize that they've been having you on the entire time. Bastards, all of them.
* Phoenix, AZ
This town... depresses me. I think it's all of the razor wire - it says, this is a place where ideas are boxed in, where imagination is kept in a cage. It feels like a wasteland of people going through simple, sad motions of life. Seems like a perfect location for a Lucas sequel, honestly. But that doesn't help the fact that I am feeling stifled. I'm very much connected to the places where I exist, and this place has no history, it has no face. It's people on a bus with no destination. It's lives that converse in grating squawking sounds. My sister just got back from a trip to Tucson, and I've been informed that that city is far better suited to my type of restlessly pretentious personality. Since my plan has been to move there for school in January, I can only hope that she is correct.
* Scarface
I've been watching Brian DePalma's oft-quoted film... Interesting. I can see why it's so popular amongst my male contemporaries. Tony Montana (Al Pacino) is a loudmouth braggart with an inherent sense of honesty/honor who makes it big. It's hard not to admire that, even if the film is completely unbelievable. A man that non-political in his dealings, who charges ahead with no thought for playing it a little sneakier... He would've been dead much, much quicker, and well before he raised an empire the size of the one in the film. It's very Hawksian in the sense that all the men need are bravado to get ahead.
I haven't finished yet - it's nearly three hours long, and I've been taking it in chunks. I have some admiration for it's construction and Al Pacino's zealous performance (the "Joo got it, mang" Cuban accent is alternately funny and oddball - and never organic), although there were some major casting mistakes (Robert Loggia and F. Murray Abraham as Cubans? What the fuck?). The 80s soundtrack is one of the worst of its breed. Still, it's a hard film to not enjoy, if only for the fact that it's so very obvious that DePalma's background is as a horror director.
* Kill Bill v.2
Joshua Tyler at Cinema Blend made the argument in his review that Tarantino never should have split up this film. Now, as rarely as I agree with Tyler (formerly known as the Film Hobbit), I have to wonder if I don't agree. Tarantino's choices for both films are on occasion, quite questionable. No other director I know would put all of the interesting character development in the back-half of the film. Because of this? Kill Bill v.2 is a complete film. It's missing a lot of the happy-go-wacky violence of the first, but the film has a basic narrative arc that works. Sure, some of it can only be understood by seeing the first film, but I would wager that a person seeing KBv.2 from beginning to end without having first seen KBv.1? Would get it. Would enjoy it. Would come out with full satisfaction.
The splitting up remains nothing more than a savvy marketing move by a director who knows he can sell tickets just by pasting his name on something - and frankly, a director who deserves to sell ticket for being involved. Quentin Tarantino is nothing if not the lone voice in Hollywood that begs everybody else to remember the films they grew up on, to remember that the cheese often has as much worth as the so-called masterpieces.
Kill Bill is perhaps the greatest wake-up call to Hollywood that great Asian cinema has viable space on the overcrowded market. Technically that should have been the job of Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, but that had the unfortunate problem of being a pretty good film marked fantastic by people who weren't familiar with a genre in which much better films had been made. Anytime you get critical/audience applause like that, there's going to be serious, serious backlash - and the film has been rendered much less substantial by immediate history than it deserves. I mean, look at Titanic. If you can struggle past the dialogue and the overblown romanticism, it's a much better film than Somewhere in Time. Which isn't saying a lot, given that SiT is cloying sentimental pap, but it's something.
Er, I'm digressing.
Go see Kill Bill v.2. It's so funny, and violent, and it has a kickass soundtrack. And David Carradine has a monologue about Superman.
* Best for last
Going to Davis, CA on Friday. Seeing the girl (happy dance). Meeting her parents (dance of sheer terror). Seeing the town she lives in and the people she hangs out with (dance of pretty damn cool). Going to California for the first time in my life (dance of priceless).
* The Sunnydale Socks
I think most if not all of the people on my friendslist know that I'm a member of this organization/writing project/game/thing. Yesterday, I turned in my resignation. It was, for 7.5 months, a defining point in my existence. I checked posts at work. At home. I spent hours mulling over the characterization of one Parker Abrams, asshole. I met some of the most incredible people I will ever have chance to meet in my existence (and I would name you, but this is a public post, and I understand concerns for anonymity).
The Socks taught me respect for the minor character. That every little piece of flotsam and jetsom that passes down the pike (no pun intended) in Joss Whedon's universe had meaning, purpose, and a continued existence long after they've left the screen. It's been quite informative to whatever fanfic I may yet turn out.
It's also taught me much of human politics, and how people in a group operate. The singular fact of it is... any large group of people working towards a goal is going to get deeply political, whether they like it or not. It's a trap that cannot be avoided, and much as I tried, I found myself playing political games myself. It's interesting to note the changes that come over you when you get into a situation like that. As a writer of non-fanfiction, I expect those lessons will be useful later, also.
Most of all, though, what I have found in all of this is that passion is nothing when you cannot back it with the strength of your convictions. It is a lesson hard-earned, and some would argue that perhaps I have yet to grasp it in its fullness, but I feel like a stronger human being for having been a member of the Sunnydale Socks.
It was my first real experience truly, honestly working with a huge group of people to create something interesting that would be readable by the masses. I am incredibly proud of my work within the group, and I wish it a fantastic future.
(Also, I'm probably still going to be turning out one or two more Parker posts just to give him a proper send-off. I cannot imagine just leaving the guy where he is, and he means far too much to me to not say goodbye to properly)
* Ducks' Angelathon
Got my assignment last week, and I'm mulling over options on its writing. I'm not a stranger to darkfic (my pre-apocalyptic tale is certainly very, very dark), but this is certainly beyond what I've attempted before. I'm interested to see how it turns out. Oh, uh, anybody who's any good at writing Willow (and not just happy!fun!Willow) should get in contact with me, maybe give me some pointers. I'm always looking for fresh perspectives.
* The Novel
Spent some time with my sounding board yesterday, and discussed the problem of one-dimensional characters suddenly picking up layers (like ogres... or onions... or parfait), specifically that Anthony, my villain, was starting to get really interesting to me, and not just in a tall, dark, and evil way. Also, started to get an idea of exactly how the hero's journey would play out in the novel, and how exactly that I've been screwing with not only my readers, but myself, in the entire process of writing the thing. It's interesting how you can get to a point in writing your characters in your novel, and realize that they've been having you on the entire time. Bastards, all of them.
* Phoenix, AZ
This town... depresses me. I think it's all of the razor wire - it says, this is a place where ideas are boxed in, where imagination is kept in a cage. It feels like a wasteland of people going through simple, sad motions of life. Seems like a perfect location for a Lucas sequel, honestly. But that doesn't help the fact that I am feeling stifled. I'm very much connected to the places where I exist, and this place has no history, it has no face. It's people on a bus with no destination. It's lives that converse in grating squawking sounds. My sister just got back from a trip to Tucson, and I've been informed that that city is far better suited to my type of restlessly pretentious personality. Since my plan has been to move there for school in January, I can only hope that she is correct.
* Scarface
I've been watching Brian DePalma's oft-quoted film... Interesting. I can see why it's so popular amongst my male contemporaries. Tony Montana (Al Pacino) is a loudmouth braggart with an inherent sense of honesty/honor who makes it big. It's hard not to admire that, even if the film is completely unbelievable. A man that non-political in his dealings, who charges ahead with no thought for playing it a little sneakier... He would've been dead much, much quicker, and well before he raised an empire the size of the one in the film. It's very Hawksian in the sense that all the men need are bravado to get ahead.
I haven't finished yet - it's nearly three hours long, and I've been taking it in chunks. I have some admiration for it's construction and Al Pacino's zealous performance (the "Joo got it, mang" Cuban accent is alternately funny and oddball - and never organic), although there were some major casting mistakes (Robert Loggia and F. Murray Abraham as Cubans? What the fuck?). The 80s soundtrack is one of the worst of its breed. Still, it's a hard film to not enjoy, if only for the fact that it's so very obvious that DePalma's background is as a horror director.
* Kill Bill v.2
Joshua Tyler at Cinema Blend made the argument in his review that Tarantino never should have split up this film. Now, as rarely as I agree with Tyler (formerly known as the Film Hobbit), I have to wonder if I don't agree. Tarantino's choices for both films are on occasion, quite questionable. No other director I know would put all of the interesting character development in the back-half of the film. Because of this? Kill Bill v.2 is a complete film. It's missing a lot of the happy-go-wacky violence of the first, but the film has a basic narrative arc that works. Sure, some of it can only be understood by seeing the first film, but I would wager that a person seeing KBv.2 from beginning to end without having first seen KBv.1? Would get it. Would enjoy it. Would come out with full satisfaction.
The splitting up remains nothing more than a savvy marketing move by a director who knows he can sell tickets just by pasting his name on something - and frankly, a director who deserves to sell ticket for being involved. Quentin Tarantino is nothing if not the lone voice in Hollywood that begs everybody else to remember the films they grew up on, to remember that the cheese often has as much worth as the so-called masterpieces.
Kill Bill is perhaps the greatest wake-up call to Hollywood that great Asian cinema has viable space on the overcrowded market. Technically that should have been the job of Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, but that had the unfortunate problem of being a pretty good film marked fantastic by people who weren't familiar with a genre in which much better films had been made. Anytime you get critical/audience applause like that, there's going to be serious, serious backlash - and the film has been rendered much less substantial by immediate history than it deserves. I mean, look at Titanic. If you can struggle past the dialogue and the overblown romanticism, it's a much better film than Somewhere in Time. Which isn't saying a lot, given that SiT is cloying sentimental pap, but it's something.
Er, I'm digressing.
Go see Kill Bill v.2. It's so funny, and violent, and it has a kickass soundtrack. And David Carradine has a monologue about Superman.
* Best for last
Going to Davis, CA on Friday. Seeing the girl (happy dance). Meeting her parents (dance of sheer terror). Seeing the town she lives in and the people she hangs out with (dance of pretty damn cool). Going to California for the first time in my life (dance of priceless).
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no subject
Date: 2004-04-26 03:21 pm (UTC)Nice thoughts on Tarantino, as well. I really need to see Vol. 2 ASAP.
no subject
Date: 2004-04-26 04:52 pm (UTC)Yes. Go see Volume 2. And then we can discuss it when you get to San Diego. :D