Archive for June, 2006

The Canadian Idol

Tuesday, June 27th, 2006

Been watching it?

I have, if only because friend-of-friends Sheldon Elter has been selected into the top 22. That’s been interesting, and he’s pretty good. But I don’t want him to win. Not because I think he’s untalented or undeserving, but I think he ought to be doing something more important. Use the publicity, Sheldon. Then ship out!

The men sang for their supper last night, a group of wannabe wankers, “funny” guys with “personality” (if you wear a shirt that says “Grandmas love mohawks,” it’s best not to HAVE a mohawk. It’s a sign that mohawks ceased to be badass A LONG TIME AGO. Also, note to the world: no more devil horn rock hands. That gesture, too, like the ‘hawk, has been rendered meaningless by overuse.) Meatheads who’ll get by on their looks.Teenagers who talk about “feeling” the lyrics, singing about lovemaking and booze– as if!

But I do have my favourites. The kid who looks like a butch lesbian, and sings like one too. It’s eerie, like listening to a castrato. And the skinny weird indie guy from Winnipeg, though I suspect his sarcasm will begin to wear on me soon enough. So boy-with-girl-butt it is! Go girly boy!

OK, I’m back!

Sunday, June 25th, 2006

Since the last post:

Went to Toronto, Hamilton, New York, Toronto and home.

Hamilton was for Paul’s brother’s wedding, where we found out not hours beforehand that we were supposed to be the photographers. Therefore, there are no photos of us at the wedding.

New York was for fun. It turns out that it’s a fairly harsh experience for someone who is a) slightly agoraphobic, b) going deaf, and c) kind of stressed out to begin with. Nevertheless, we did manage to see some great stuff, namely the Museum of Natural History (you know, where Margot and Ritchie Tenenbaum lived in the first time Margot ran away from home). Also, the F.A.O. Schwartz store! Yankees game! Met/MoMA/Guggenheim! The Public Library! Avenue Q!

Watched Stanley Cup playoffs: Oilers in ’07! Had to find bars in Toronto and New York to accommodate schedule; Game 5 at the ESPN in Times Square. Game 6 in Toronto made thousands of times better by the goths at the next table over. When the first arrived (wearing a ruffly shirt, velvet vest, and pants tucked into his boots), Jason (who happened to be in town for HIS family wedding in Hamilton) shouted, “Here comes the magistrate!” Oh yeah, and then after we found a bar where we ended up sitting with the PR guy for the Leafs.

Nacho Libre: aside from obvious stereotyping of Mexicans, funny because of Jack Black’s delivery of the word, “Anyways.”

Attended charity screening of Serenity. The nerds were especially well behaved (not like the loud-talking, spoiler-making crowd at X3) and the movie is really good! Funny! Touching!

Bought running shoes and started running. Sort of.

I’ve spent a week just vegging, and realize how hard I will have to work for the next 32 years in order to do this permanently. I can’t wait to retire. I’m so good at it!

Banlieue 13/13th District

Sunday, June 4th, 2006

Holy crap is this movie ever good!

It’s what the Mission Impossible movies– any of them, take your pick– wishes it could be: not one, but TWO highly trained, highly principled men who use their skills to try and make good of a neighbourhood that all but a few have given up on: Banlieue 13, a hellish slum surrounded by a high wall and razorwire on the outskirts of Paris, overrun by gangs and drug dealers and rife with corrupt police who resent having to be there.

In fact, in this supposed future (2010), the police have been ordered to pull out entirely, following postal service and schools. Pockets of civility try to thrive, such as the apartment building of Leito, one of the aforementioned do-gooders. Like-minded folk guard the building as a safe place for children and old people, who spend their days sleeping or watch TV for lack of school or jobs.

Trouble is around every corner, never as much as when the local gang leader gets his hands on a nuclear weapon! That’s when Damien, a hotshot cop who still believes in “liberte, egalite, fraternite” is called in to go undercover and stop the countdown that has accidentally been started. His mission is to recruit Leito (who is ethnically vague, as opposed to blonde blue-eyed Damien) to help him out. And Leito has his own stake in this: not only do the bad guys have the bomb, they have also kidnapped his sister.

Amazing fights ensue, of course, but that’s nothing compared to the chases. Except for a few moments here and there, it’s all on foot and you have never seen anything like them. And the boys have the bodies that go along with such monkey-like strength and agility.

More amazing (yes, it JUST KEEPS COMING) is that the film is French, and that it was released there in 2004, predating the ACTUAL suburban race riots in 2005 that had people worriedly discussing the “problems” of immigration and multiculturalism, or the version of it that they have in Europe.

The film addresses the problems that are the result of colonialism: immigrants who, while having lived as French subjects in North Africa or other French outposts in Asia or the Caribbean, are not accepted as being French in France, and the alienation, unemployment, and poverty of the youth who live in the slums. And on the other side of things, the exasperation of the government and police who feel, as the residents of the slums do, that the situation is hopeless.

The alliance between Leito and Damien are meant to represent the common goals of immigrants and Frenchmen alike: peace, the opportunity for everyone to flourish and contribute to society, and to bring down those who benefit from the suffering of others,or even worse,to benignly ignore the pleas of those who need help. A no-brainer, and we love to see the good guys win.

It’s really amazing. And I think the few people who showed up to see an action flick and were disappointed that it was subtitled quickly got over it once we started to see some serious ass-kicking/foot chases. All this courtesy of Luc “The Fifth Element” Besson, who has once again proven that sometimes it takes a French man to make the ultimate popcorn-crunching, heroic ideals-touting whiz-bang stylish Hollywood movie.