Author: diannabell

Virtual Art: To be or to seem? That is the question.

Art

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In the world of the arts, technology is not the first thing that comes to mind. Painting? Yes. Music? Yes. Dance? Yes. But water-proof cameras and immersive 3D technology? Not so much.

The age of technology has dawned, and the digital seeds have been sown. Now, the innovations have spread into every industry. In the world of journalism, newspapers that are seeking longevity have already moved to an online platform, and it’s a constant battle to stay up to speed on the latest gadget, but what will matter in terms of the arts and its coverage?

Google Glass has started popping up in the journalism world. Currently, it is used more for exploration by institutions and individuals that can afford its steep purchase price of $1500. The device looks like the top half of a pair of lens-less wire-rimmed glasses with a small square piece of glass over the right eye. It’s a hands-free voice-commanded camera that takes video as well as photos.

Google Glass had a lot of hype when it first came out, but Syracuse University Professor Dan Pacheco thinks the product will eventually fade from the market. As the Peter A. Horvitz Endowed Chair in Journalism Innovation, he constantly studies new technology to see what impact they will have on the world of journalism—technologies like Google Glass.

“First of all, Google Glass is not attractive,” Pacheco said. “You look like a cyborg with it on.”

He also said Glass changes the social dynamics during an interview.

“When interviewing someone, you cannot move your head while wearing the Glass,” Pacheco said. “The usual social cues you use to show you are listening during an interview are no longer there. It makes for an awkward interview.”

Pacheco believes immersive environments are the way of the future and points to augmented realities as a way to inform the public. Oculus Rift allows users to experience virtual realities through a head set that fits down over the eyes like a pair of over-sized blacked-out ski goggles that encase the head with straps and wires. Once hooked up, the user can see 360-degree views and 3D elements.

This past summer, Pacheco, in conjunction with the Des Moines Register and the Gannett Company’s digital division, used 360-degree cameras and Oculus Rift to create an immersive news story on agriculture in Iowa. The experience begins with a helicopter ride over farmland and ends with a close-up interactive with the farmers. Once on the ground, the farm transforms into a digital replica of the farm. Various checkpoints were laid out to guide the user through the story. When the user maneuvered the hand-held controller to the checkpoint, a video took over the screen. Suddenly, there’s grandpa, explaining the generation of farmers that have occupied this land. Turning in a full circle, the user sees all of the family. Looking down, the blades of grass stare back.

Pacheco thinks the art world is a perfect fit for this technology to take off, and the inroads are already being laid.

Many museums have started digitizing their collections to share with the people that would like to visit, but can’t because of distance. The Google Cultural Institute took this idea and brought 456 art collections from across the globe and placed it in the virtual hands of the art patrons. The virtual galleries are curated with images of the work interspersed with notes on the creation and the artists.

Digitization happens outside of Google as well. There are grants that help museums step into the digital world. Syracuse’s Everson Museum just received a $200,000 grant from the Henry Luce Foundation to digitize the American portion of their ceramics collection. The digitization process at the Everson involves photographers taking pictures from every angle of each piece. From there, the images are compressed to form one 360-degree photo.

Sarah Massett, the Interim Director of the Everson believes this project will bring awareness to the museum.

“We have a world renowned ceramics collection,” Massett said. “The Henry Luce grant will allow us to make the collection accessible to students and scholars around the world.”

Pacheco said this process would lend itself easily to the virtual immersive experience. The 3D pictures could be dropped into software that would then have the capability to create the virtual walkthrough, similar to the farm experience. Massett isn’t so sure.

“Museums are very conscientious of the placement of their funds,” she said. “Walkthroughs might not grab on quickly to be worth their cost.”

Chris Baker, an entertainment reporter for Syracuse’s Post Standard, thinks something like a virtual tour would be interesting, but also has reservations as to its practicality.

“Arts organizations tend to be understaffed and underfunded and don’t have the time or the resources to devote to these types of technologies,” Baker said.

He also believes the visceral realness of seeing something in person still trumps a virtual experience.

“Take the Mona Lisa for example,” Baker said. “Everyone has seen it, but there is a difference seeing it in person over seeing a picture of it.”

On the reporting side, Baker said simplicity and mobility are key. When reporting on a show, he says his smartphone is his best tool and has “revolutionized journalism.” Being able to embed videos and photos into a story as well as filing that story right after an event allows a reporter to get the content to the reader more quickly. That’s not to say innovation isn’t important to Baker, it just needs to serve a purpose as well.

Ultimately, Baker argues that experimenting the art in-person is most important.

“As a journalist, being there and being able to convey a piece of art of a show to someone, and getting them to want to see that art, that’s what matters most.

Technology that may or may not serve a journalistic or arts purpose. Who can tell?

Google Glass – $1500 A hands-free voice-commanded smart device that allows the user to capture video and images and also allows for a cool futuristic cyborg look. Users can also practice their golf swing before hitting the links.

Oculus Rift – $200-400 This product started out as Kickstarter campaign and raised $2.4 million. It creates an immersive 3D experience for users through a “virtual-reality headset.” This product is still in development for consumers, but should hit the market in 2015.

Autographer – $399 “Spontaneous, hands-free image capturing.” With a 136 degree lens, GPS unit inside with 5 built-in sensors, this wearable camera takes images on its own by judging the light and shadows. GPS records where each photo was taken and blue tooth connects with an app on the user’s phone to upload photos and create an instant story line.

GoPro – $130-400 This mountable camera has been used by adventurers to capture first-person views of cycling, white-water rafting, and many other thrill-seeking adventures. The Post Standard strapped one onto a crowd surfer at a concert.

Google Cardboard – Starter sets cost $19.95. These high-tech DIY Viewfinders allow users with an Android phone to view 3D photos as well as view immersive game-like realities. One app allows users to view “cultural artifacts from every angle.” The user slips their phone into the front of the Cardboard. There are two lenses secured in side and as the viewer uses the cardboard, there is a magnetic slider on the side that interacts with the phone to switch the images. An app is also available that gives you a guided tour of the Palace of Versailles.

Marathon: Round Two

Boston, marathon, TV
Running toward the finish line of the Sugarloaf Marathon in Maine. My form had completely fallen apart at this point. (Seriously, how did I not roll my ankle? Look at my right foot!) (Photo courtesy of the supportive Patrick Stanton.)

Running toward the finish line of the Sugarloaf Marathon in Maine. My form had completely fallen apart at this point. (Photo courtesy of the supportive Patrick Stanton.)

This past Sunday, I woke up at 4:45 a.m., made coffee, fixed myself breakfast, laced up my running shoes and stood in 40-degree weather and pouring rain with 650 others.

This is what insanity looks like. Of course, you have to be slightly insane to run a marathon. All of those miles logged, all of those hours spent toiling away — putting one foot in front of another. For what? For the glory of saying you’ve run 26.2 miles in one go? Maybe. I mean it is pretty damn impressive.

But for me, it was finally attaining a goal I’ve been holding onto for five years. A goal I’ve been dreaming of since I first moved to Massachusetts: qualifying for the Boston Marathon.

In the days and minutes leading up to the race, I was, naturally, full of nerves. This wasn’t my first marathon, but the stakes were much higher this go around than the last one. (I have a tendency to place a lot of pressure on myself and have been known to hold myself to pretty high — sometimes unrealistic — standards.) But to add to those nerves, I also didn’t give myself as much time to prepare for this race as I should have.

But as I stood there with the other runners, our breathes floating above us in a hazy cloud, I felt myself relax. And when the gun finally fired, my legs took over, my mind quieted, and I was flying.

I was cresting hills with ease. My stride was fluid and seamless. It felt so easy.

Then came the first water station.

For those that haven’t run a longer race and aren’t familiar with the act of simultaneously quenching a thirst while the lower half of your body continues to propel you through space and time…consider yourself lucky. And graceful.

Running a marathon is decidedly unsexy. Aside from trying to inhale a few sips of water while maintaining pace, you run the risk of choking on said water or missing the target of your mouth entirely.

Within the first couple of miles of the race, runners look like they’ve wet themselves. (And maybe they did a little, but that’s nothing to be ashamed of, right? … Right? … RIGHT?!) Or maybe you miss the oral target altogether, throwing orange gatorade right into your eye.

Aside from these perils, there’s the undeniable inevitability of going out to quickly at some point. Maybe not this race. And maybe not the next. But at some point, you will get antsy and kick it into high gear well before it’s time to do so.

For me, this moment set in around mile 18. The first 15 miles passed so quickly and so breezily I thought I would crush my time with a vengeance.

I imagined people bowing down at my accomplishments, kissing my blistered feet and praising my unbelievable finishing time. I would get rounds of applause as I sprinted through the finish line, with barely a drop of sweat, a smile gracing my lips and a glistening ponytail with as much bounce as my stride. Little kids would look up at their parents and say they too wanted to run a marathon some day, just like that pretty girl with the long legs and luscious hair.

Then, my legs started their protest.

Between mile 18 and 20, I imagined I was pushing through a wall. Or rather THE WALL. The one many embattled runners speak of when they share war stories from their time in the trenches.

At mile 20, I contemplated quitting. Not really contemplated so much as fantasized. I dreamt of lying on a bed with many pillows, a fluffy duvet enveloping my sore body, as I drank bottomless Bloody Marys and binge-watched all of my favorite shows.

By mile 21, I was somehow miraculously still moving along, if only barely faster than a crawl.

Miles 22 and 23 passed by in a pain-filled haze.

At mile 24, I stopped to accept my cup of water, hobbled along in pain, contemplated running off into the woods of Maine and never coming back.

I walked. Then walked some more. I started feeling a little sorry for myself. Then, the pity turned to anger. I used the anger to fuel myself to mile 25.

And then, I stopped again.

By this time, my legs had turned into sacks of rocks. With each step, I faced the horrible reality that I had to again lift a leg, put it in front of the other, and then somehow manage to do it all over again.

My legs started cramping in the face of this reality. Their protesting growing from a grumbling to a collective roar.

Then, another runner came along that reminded me why I signed up for this race to begin with.

As he saw me struggling to move, head hung low, wondering how in the world I would get to the finish line — he tapped me on my shoulder and said “Hey, come on. You can do this! Run with me! Stick with me.”

Never in any other length of race, from 5k to half marathon, have I found this miraculous and amazing camaraderie.

In both marathons, I have found encouragement from a stranger, a stranger who challenged me and carried me through my tougher moments.

These bonds are brief, but they are so strong and pure in the moment they exist.

This runner (who I later learned was named Michael) got me through that last mile of my race and pushed me through to a 16-minute personal record and a Boston Marathon qualifying time.

Running a marathon is hard. It doesn’t matter if you’re a professional athlete or someone approaching with the mindset of just getting through the course, the time be damned. But there is something undeniably special about toeing the line with the hundreds (or thousands) of other individuals who happen to be just as insane as you are. And this insanity will (hopefully, should my final time be accepted) power me through Boston 2017.

Running

 

Barry Park courtesy Flickr.

Barry Park courtesy Flickr.

Last week, as I went for a run, I got caught in the rain in the park at the end of my street. I had stepped out of the house and saw the black ominous clouds encroaching, but threw caution to the wind and took off. I knew it was a matter of time before the downpour began, so I wasn’t too shocked as the rain pelted down like bullets forcing me to seek a temporary refuge.

I found a tree to lean against and just relaxed and listened to a podcast. As I stood there, I began noticing little things here and there. First, it was the way the rain began trickling down the trunk of a tree. Next, it was the way the mosquitos started to fly around the tree-covered grass. (And later started landing on my legs…less interesting.) Then, I saw two deer across from me frolicking—this is really the best way to describe this. I never really paid any mind to how odd deer look when they run. Not graceful at all, but rather bumbling and awkward while still remaining cute of course.

Then, a mother duck and her five ducklings swimming in a puddle beside the creek.

I rarely take the time to slow down and observe. I barrel through life head-first, planning out my next projects and my next moves.

Getting caught in the rain forced me to slow down, if only for twenty minutes, and notice the life happening around me.

After all this life was observed, a funeral procession drove by.

It was an odd balancing and leveling that happened.

I can easily get wrapped up in my own life and planning for the next step…and when I say planning, I really mean anxiety-fueled obsessing. This has been heightened by my recent completion of my graduate degree. Where should I go? What should I do? How do I get there?

So many questions constantly rotating through my mind on a never-ending reel.

This rainy run served as a necessary reminder to take a deep breath every once in awhile and just let it be. Life will happen regardless of how much I map out the details.

…

Those are my current observations after a year’s hiatus from blogging. Eventually, and probably slowly, I’ll rehash the past year of grad school and all of the amazing experiences that occurred and the great people I met along the way. I’ll also be chronicling those next steps of life, wherever they might be. All I know for now is that I’ll be stepping out of Syracuse, New York, in two weeks.

 

Frankenstein – Finally Finished!

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So. Here I am. A little over two months after I touted that I would be reading a book a month. One book, out of my comfort zone, during a one month period. 

All I can say is woops.

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But I finally finished and I’m here to bring you my opinions on Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein! 

I want to start by saying Dr. Frankenstein is one whiny little man. “Woe is me! I have created an ugly creature that is killing my loved ones, but it isn’t my fault. No no! It’s all him!”

Take some responsibility, Frank. Seriously. You created, in your words, “a wretch”, but he didn’t necessarily become evil until you abandoned him, forced him to survive this cruel world alone, and then declined to create the one thing that would make him happy — a companion. 

He just wanted a little attention! He was acting out in order for you to notice him! I’m not saying it’s right. But neither is abandoning a completed project. 

Putting aside Victor’s character flaws, Mary Shelley made me think about a lot of interesting topics. 

A simple one that comes to mind, and related to my earlier rant — taking responsibility for one’s actions. Frankenstein poured himself into his creation feverishly, and when the end result was a little bit displeasing tp the eyes, he kicks the poor wretch out on the streets! “Yeahhh…This is awkward. You definitely aren’t as pretty as I imagined, so like you’re definitely going to have to leave now. Bye.” 

I’m sorry that you didn’t make him in man’s image, Victor, but come on! You had to have known what he would look like. You created him and you alone. Did you think that by throwing life into the mix it would change his features?

Dumby.

Further more, by unleashing his creation on society untrained, the deaths of his loved ones can also be pinned on Frankenstein. 

I think to an extent, Frankenstein knows that, but instead of directing his anger at himself, he puts it all on the monster, vowing to follow him until he either kills the monster or himself.

And in his retelling of the story to Walton,  he constantly pities himself and the trials and tribulations he has undergone. 

The amount of tears Victor shed in this book probably created the Dead Sea. 

I don’t want to come off as callous. Losing that many of your loved ones so quickly would traumatize anyone. If it were me, I’d probably be locked up in a windowless room creating my own salty ocean. 

But the fact remains that Frankenstein shirked his responsibilities as a creator and then was angry with the result. Here, I wondered if Shelley is speaking to a religious comparison or to a more literal parental responsibility. Perhaps both.

I say the latter because I know Shelley suffered a great deal in her own personal life — multiple miscarriages, losing her own husband quite early, and then raising a son that didn’t live up to her grand expectations. Some of those personal and tragic experiences must have found their way into her characters, if not shaped the story completely.  

Getting back to the religious lens, God created Earth and the humans that inhabit it much like Victor created his wretch. (Sorry, buddy. You were never given a name so I’m forced to call you what everyone else did.)  

God did not teach wrong from right. He just let the people loose to create all of the havoc and chaos they desired, with the warning, “Don’t eat from that tree.” And then when God was unhappy with the outcome, He smote them in the various ways God smites people. (I never thought I would get the chance to use the word ‘smote’. Twice!)

Of course, I am generalizing and summarizing a thousand-page book. But how often do we find ourselves questioning events? I am not religious myself. More of an agnostic, if you have to put a label on it. But there are so many times I find myself, and hear others, asking God (or higher power) why? I lead a good life. I’m nice to people. So why am I burdened with this problem when others who are much worse than I live without this trouble? People often say God is trying to teach you a lesson in these instances. 

To me, it’s the same as punishing a child for breaking a rule they were never taught to follow in the first place.

Shelley also makes the reader question science. How far is too far? Frankenstein reanimated the dead. Is this too far? Shelley doesn’t state either way. In my opinion, I am not ready to condemn the experiment. If Frankenstein had taken responsibility for his creation and educated it properly, whose to say things wouldn’t have turned out differently?

One thing is for certain, Frankenstein’s creation was superior to the scientist himself. Not superficially, but mentally. He learned a few different languages in the span of a winter by observing a family through a window. He felt every emotion and was a much more eloquent and poignant speaker than Frankenstein. (He also didn’t burst into tears or fits of rage when he was trying to argue his point.) He could survive in extreme conditions, possessed the strength of ten men, and was extremely rational in his thought process. When you examine these facts, (and forget the whole mess with the murdering), the wretch is a success!

I had some very intense conversations with my boyfriend about Shelley’s themes. I’m not going to keep dissecting the book because most people read this back in high school and have already explored said themes. 

But this is the beauty in literature. It makes you question belief systems. It creates discussion and debate. 

This is why I set this goal for myself: of reading novels outside of my normal consumption. I wanted to get the gears moving again. I like questioning, arguing, and conversing. 

Yes it took me over two months to finish, but I did finish! 

I’m open to hearing other people’s opinions on Shelley’s themes, Frankenstein’s tears, or if you hate me for bringing up religion. Comment away, dear reader!

 

 

On a side note, I also read two of Cleo Coyle’s coffee house mystery books. I just can’t quit you, chic lit!

 

Wine + Snow + Netflix = bliss + blogging

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Today, Boston was blanketed once again in snow. This winter has been brutal. Super cold, or wicked in the vernacular sense, and so much frozen precipitation.

It’s, quite frankly, ridiculous.

I love the snow. Really. I do!

But, when you are training for a marathon it’s rather inconvenient. The sidewalks are treacherous at best, and the treadmill is doable, but it’s so very and completely boring.

I’m slowly conditioning myself to stomach the the mileage and minutes on a stationary platform with the help of Parks & Rec and Dexter (Netflix is amazing, seriously, if you couldn’t tell from the title of this entry). But no matter how many times Leslie Knope and Ben Wyatt get together at the world’s smallest park, it still can’t compete with the sheer satisfaction and beauty of running through the streets of Boston, moving forward, towards an actual destination, rather than trying not to be caught staring at your neighbor’s treadmill and thinking about how much faster you’re running and how much more you sweat. I’m sorry, ma’am. I swear I didn’t mean to drip on you.

But today was a day off. The snow was freewheeling and fast-falling. I went into work this morning, and within a couple of hours, the roads were beyond what I wanted to face.

I’m a Southern lady. Snowy roads don’t mix well with me.

Needless to say, I was super anxious all morning.

This lead to some less-than-focused bagel slicing and a cut finger.

It started gushing blood. Seriously. I dripped all over the kitchen. (Don’t worry. I cleaned it all up with bleach. Dexter style.)

I was a goner. I couldn’t take it any more.

After all the anxiety, I came home and had two bowls of soup, some tea, some drawing, and then some wine.

And now…Well, now…I’m feeling fiiiiiiinnneeeee….

I’ve watched three movies so far. Two with Kristin Bell, which were pleasing and satisfied a need in me I forgot existed. (I love Kristin Bell and cannot wait for the Veronica Mars movie. And no, I didn’t donate to the kickstarter project. I’ll donate by going to the movie, thank you very much!)

And now….I’ve scraped the bottom of the barrel. I’m…I’m watching “I Don’t Know How She Does It”, and I subsequently want to vomit up all of the soup and wine I’ve consumed.

THE WORST.

Maybe it’s because I’ve educated myself on equality and gender studies issues…or maybe I just really hate this stupid movie and how easily Sarah Jessica Parker’s character strolls through the Boston Commons from her Beacon Hill apartment sans pajamas (see my facebook status earlier this week for an understanding on that one). Excuse me for one second while I scream.

I know people actually have these lives and do indeed live in those beautiful, beautiful brownstones, but I don’t know them or their wallets. They are ridiculously expensive.

But that’s neither here nor there.

Another reason this movie pisses me off is that while Sarah Jessica Parker’s character does indeed attempt to do it all…kids, career, travel, husband, P.T.A…..she doesn’t seem to succeed or be fulfilled.

This movie only furthers the stereotype that women must stay home with their kids in order to be fulfilled.

It was my mistake to click the little ‘x’ on my playstation controller in the first place. My bad.

But another mistake I’ve made is not recognizing my own personal growth.

I no longer get any joy out of rich people struggling to find the balance in life. Stow your stupid story, Sarah Jessica Parker’s character, I don’t care about your stupid wealthy problems.

I’m turning you off now. As well as crawling into bed and continuing to read a worthwhile story in Frankenstein. (I’ve changed my tune on this novel. More to come on that later.)

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Suck it, SJP. Suck it.

Frankenstein – An Update

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In the effort of sticking with my new year’s resolution, I am here again – blogging as I said I would and updating you on the things I have been reading, watching, and doing…just like I said I would. 

Imagine that. Following through on something….weird. 

Any who, I’m about 80 pages into Frankenstein. I must admit, I thought I would be voraciously devouring each word, yet, I’m struggling. I still find myself yearning to read about my coffee shop mysteries as Dr. Frankenstein cries himself to sleep in his room because of the disaster he has wrought. 

That’s definitely the best way to deal with a problem you created. Pretend it doesn’t exist until it “goes away.” 

That’s not really why I’m having such trouble digging into the novel. I think it’s more about pacing. The language is so descriptive and flowery. I wasn’t expecting the first 40 pages of the novel to be about a man on a ship who picks up Dr. Frankenstein. And maybe therein lies the root of it. Expectation. I have been inundated with the Frankenstein monsters and Young Frankensteins of the silver screen. Is there even really a bride of Frankenstein? Because if so, it will have a whole different meaning now. 

I’m not saying that I dislike Frankenstein. I’m just having trouble becoming immersed in it and lacking that craving to want to be constantly reading it at all times. 

I miss that feeling. I haven’t felt it in a while. The not-being-able-to-put-this-book-down-ever feeling. I haven’t yet found it in between the cover of Frankenstein, but I still have 120 pages to go. 

On another note, I only have one more grad school application left and I have begun training for another marathon. Not sure as to where or when, but the main point is that I have started. 

And sometimes, just like with Frankenstein, those first few pages or steps are the hardest part. 

 

(Sorry for the short post, but I just finished up a 10-hour kitchen shift, and my mind is feeling like a bowl of soggy cereal. The soggiest of cereals. I hate soggy cereal.)

New Year, New Reads

Books, Reading, Running, TV, Uncategorized

I took a hiatus from this blog. I was busy wallowing in my sorrows. Then, I decided to run a marathon, so I was busy putting one foot in front of another for 26.2 miles. Then, I got a boyfriend. And well, romance in the real world is much more interesting than putting fingers to the keyboard and typing. Also, I was promoted to manager of a coffee shop. A coffee shop that was under going a great deal of transformation. The last thing you want to do after working a 14-hour day is open your laptop and struggle to be witty and smart and make intelligent sentences strung together to paint a picture about anything.

Also, my motivation was lost. It tripped and rolled down a mountain, and then fell off of a cliff, where it stayed crippled for a couple of years.

2013 has been a good year for change and motivation. I realized I don’t want to be in the food industry at all, much less managing it. This led to the beginning of my grad school search and application process.

This is still ongoing. So far, I’ve applied to one. Three more to go…Bah.

That’s where I am currently. Coffee shop manager, girlfriend to a boy, and runner. Also, a sporadic blogger. And sometimes, I watch things and want to write about them. Specifically TV.

Currently, I’m binge watching season 2 of “Girls”. As in, I’m doing that right now as I type these very words.

This show makes me feel pithy and witty. Maybe it shouldn’t. But also, maybe it should.

Back to the resolutions…blogging is one of them. Doing it on a consistent basis, mainly.

What will I be blogging about, besides the incessant amount of television I watch? New Year’s resolution #2: reading books outside of my comfort zone. My comfort zone has narrowed to coffee shop mysteries and other easy-to-read chick-lit novels.

And that fact makes me want to vomit on myself.

My goal, or resolution rather, is to read one book a month. And the only requirement of this book is that it must be “a book I have to read in my life.” Like Catcher In the Rye or Brave New World. I’m asking my literarily-inclined friends to pitch in ideas.

First up, Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. I somehow managed to miss being required to read this in my various Language Arts classes over the years and my boyfriend thinks it’s a must. So I’m doing it.

And then I’m going to blog about it.

And you’re going to read it. Maybe.

Aside from blogging and reading, I’m going to be running. I want to run another marathon this year, and with the help of a good friend, I hope to be doing that in 3 to 4 months time.

So here’ to running, reading, writing, and getting into grad school!

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Red State: Reviewed.

Movies

It’s been awhile. A. While.

I started another blog. And then I had an inner-battle trying to decide between one blog or two. My other blog is turning into, a “hey, here’s my life,” while this blog is filled with the ramblings of a wanna-be-writer. That’s right. I called myself a wanna-be.

But, alas. I am back.

And I am here to bring you my Red State review.

Kevin Smith’s latest film takes a spin in the horror genre.

Frightening it is not.

The flick centers on three teenage boys who are on the hunt for a sexy time. Instead they find themselves mixed up with a family of Christian extremists led by Abin Cooper (Michael Parks). And this is where the shit hits the fan, for all involved.

I won’t delve any further into the plot. It’s been talked to death, both by Smith and critics. Search the internet and you’ll see for yourself.

What I do want to talk about is why I didn’t enjoy this movie.

Maybe if I had seen it in theaters I would have been more into it. No other distractions. Loud speakers. Sitting enraptured. Engaged.

But I wasn’t. I was sitting on my bed. Utilizing my instant streaming on my Netflix account.

Before continuing, let me state that I am a Kevin Smith fan. Maybe not so much of his movies, but more so of the man himself. I love his podcasts and I can’t really say why.

I guess they appeal to the immature 12-year-old boy that lives inside me. Dick jokes? Yes, please. I laugh. Sometimes while running. (This is when I typically listen in.) I even saw Smith and his sidekick Jason Mewes do a live show recently. It was awesome.

But that’s beside the point.

So much hype was/has been built up for this movie. First, with the auction-style set-up at Sundance for choosing a distributor. Then, shortly after, the shocking announcement that, surprise! Smith would distribute the film himself under his own production company.

I think this was a clever scheme. It generated a lot of media attention for Red State and, as a result, heightened the public’s awareness. Besides that, Smith has a solid backing from his audience. Die-hard fans.

And while I’m not quite sure I would classify myself as a die-hard, I am nonetheless a fan.

And this fan was a little let down, as I’ve said.

Maybe I was let down because of the over-sell. Maybe I was expecting too much.

I was expecting this amazing, game-changing film. Like Smith said he made. To quote him, he “saw where the puck was going.”

This is true for the advertisement/distribution portion of the film. But as for the actual film? I say no.

Red State felt rushed and scattered.

As an audience member, you don’t really care who lives or dies. There is no character development. First, the boys are on their way to finding some hot lady parts. Then, there’s a gun fight.

Umm…What’s going on and why do I care?

The movie wasn’t hard to follow. I knew what was going on. But as far as the ‘why do I care’ part, I didn’t.

It wasn’t as if Smith was already running over on time. The movie clocks in a little under 90 minutes. Add on some time and exposition, for crying out loud. Make me care!

When I think of the film in reference to the actual extremists, the Westboro Baptist Church, sure, I get mad . . . at the Westboro Baptist Church. I could care less about the actual characters in the movie.

So a few horny kids are tortured. Why should I care?

It’s the writer’s job to make me care, and here Smith failed.

Aside from a lack of character development, there were also some rather jarring and uncohesive aspects to Red State. One random flashback and a single time slide. Kind of ridiculous when used so sparingly.

The flashback occurs moments after the audience experiences the event first-hand. Give me a good reason why that’s necessary and I’ll give you $5. (I would offer more, but I’m a workin’ girl. Cut me some slack.)

Maybe these two elements are being used ironically. Poking fun at all of the other movies and tv shows that over use them. But I doubt it. Smith would have said so in five different interviews and written a blog about it if that was the case.

The performances were fine. John Goodman used his talent efficiently for the part he had. Michael Parks was good.

But it was all just a little lacking. Something left to be desired.

Why all of this hype and build-up for an average movie?

My answer is that Kevin Smith is very full of himself.

As proof, all you have to do is listen in to an episode of Plus One Per Diem, a daily show on the Smodcast network, or read Smith’s blog for the Huffington Post.

I admire Smith for the self-distribution. He’s proof that when there’s a will, there is most definitely a way. Also, where there’s a solid audience, they will come. Field of Dreams style.

Some critics, most of his audience, his friends, and Smith himself dubbed Red State his best movie yet.

But I disagree. I loved Zack and Miri Make a Porno, partially because of my obsession with Elizabeth Banks and Seth Rogen, but also because it was cohesive, hilarious, and a solid Smith film. It had notes reminiscent of Chasing Amy with a heightened awareness of the audience the film should be geared towards.

Am I being extremely harsh?

Perhaps.

But when a director heightens the expectations for a film as much as Smith did, the audience expects great things. And I only got a film that was mildly entertaining.

Let’s see what comes of Smith’s upcoming hockey film, Hit Somebody.

Postponing Packing

Boston, TV, Website

This is going to be super short.

I’m supposed to be packing, but I hate packing. I know I should be packing…waking up in a frenzy this morning speaks to the above.

The big day is a little over 3 weeks away and I only have 3 smallish boxes to show for my “packing” progress.

Whatever.

So what have I been doing with my time? Watched all four seasons of Mad Men within a few short days. (I’m great at watching a ridiculous amount of episodes in a short amount of time.) I also have been playing around on screened.com.

It’s an awesome interactive and editable movie website. The creators write reviews (as well as users) and have video features that are hilarious and informative.

One of my favorite parts are the quests. Basically, users search the sight for answers to the quests. So a question would ask “What are three ways to cheat death?” And an answer might be the holy grail.

The site really speaks to the super sleuth that lies within me.

So here’s Screened’s August movie preview!

http://www.screened.com/august-movie-preview/128-721/

Tom Hanks. Genius.

Movies, TV
Cover of "Big"

Cover of Big

Well. I fell off of the blogosphere for a bit.

Vacationing, family-reunioning, and general laziness are to blame.

It’s really hard to get myself back into the swing of things. Ridiculously hard.

I’ve been home all of two days. And aside from packing, I’ve done nothing that would even come close to being considered productive.

Aside from watching Big finally. Oh, Tom Hanks. How you make me swoon….

I seriously cannot believe I hadn’t seen this movie before now. It’s one of those movies I’ve always been meaning to watch but just never got around to seeing it. It’s been sitting in my Netflix queue for months.

I’m not going to write a semi-review of Big. That ship sailed over 20 years ago. No. This post will be an ode to Tom Hanks.

I’ve always loved Tom Hanks. He’s one of those actors that seems to be genuinely nice. He’s charming, cute, and all around a stand up guy. (I mean…that’s how he seems to be displayed.)

I haven’t ever read about him online, caught up in some scandal, or sleeping with some nanny who has a secret love-child hidden away.

And he’s funny.

His TV appearances are great. He was recently on The Daily Show with Jon Stewart and upstaged Mr. Stewart, but through sheer, pure personality. He wasn’t being showy. Obviously, that’s not in his nature. (I tried to find said episode, but it was a little older than I thought, and therefore, no longer available. Sorry to build the intensity and then leave you high and dry.)

He’s just a classy guy. And a talented actor. I mean, who could make the loss of a volleyball as tear-inducingly sad?

I’m really starting to lose direction with this post. So here’s a hilarious video to leave you with.

Enjoy.