There are some mornings when it feels as though the best way to start my day would be to drive my car smack into a tree. I really can’t see how it would make much of a difference – considering I’m doing just that, in a figurative sense, most every day anyway. This would just make it more definitive.
I’m reminded of an episode of Seinfeld, where George decides to do the exact opposite of what his natural instincts suggest. I dislike drawing the comparison of myself to a character like George Costanza, but I’m feeling too pragmatic to consider more heady explanations as to why everything I’m doing is turning out wrong.
The simple solution then is to abandon everything I believe to be correct and true. As of this very second, I hereby swear to never again:
1) Fight the system. Corporations exist for a reason. My training, years of schooling and extensive experience pale in comparison to the collective will power of the majority.
2) Rely on my talent and integrity. I should have been cured of this illusion back in LA. Silly me. It’s always the smarmy, pushy and/or otherwise incompetent who advance. Just look at American Idol. Or the White House.
3) Utilize subtlety. It’s my mistake for giving people enough credit to pick up on restrained hostility, leading questions, and implied conditions. I’ll try to be more obvious from now on. Asshole.
4) Be polite and considerate. Common courtesy takes too damn long. I can funnel all the time I’ll save by not thinking of others’ feelings into something far more productive, like making thoughtless comments at inopportune times, using up all the toilet paper in the bathroom, or browbeating someone into getting what I want.
5) Hope for the best. The less effort I put into hoping for the best, the more energy I’ll have to pick up the pieces of the things that inevitably blow up.
Needless to say, my mood today is foul. Is it really too much to ask for hard work, effort and passion to pay off in the end? Is it?
And on to a more lighthearted subject…
I recently saw Grindhouse. That was the first time I’ve ever left a movie feeling as though I’d just been to a killer rock concert, which probably explains why I want to go see it again with a bottle of whiskey in my purse. Sadly, this also means the movies will never hold up on DVD, because Grindhouse is an experience that really won’t translate in a family room. You need the collective experience of a dirty theatre floor, shared cheering and groaning with strangers, and the thrill of good surround sound to enjoy skulls being crushed, limbs severed, buildings exploding, and cars colliding. The deliberate audio ticks and film burn make it all the better. At least, that’s how it was for me. My love of gore and horror movies was fostered through late night movies just like these and it was awesome to have the chance to revisit the memory.
Planet Terror was my personal favorite of the two, mainly because it oozed with all sorts of gratuitous (non computer-generated) gore and violence. The whole point of being a “grindhouse” movie is to be exploitative and pointless, and Planet Terror hit the mark perfectly.
Death Proof could have been brilliant, were Tarantino an entirely different person. The man needs to quit trying to rewrite Pulp Fiction and keep his face off screen (his cameos were distracting and overdone, he needs to take notes from Eli Roth, who actually understands how to pull off the director cameo). Half of the movie could have been chopped out, or replaced by more badass Kurt Russel car killing scenes, rather than bogged down by wooden, stroke-my-screenwriter’s-fragile-ego dialogue. Still, there were plenty of hot chicks to look at, cool cars, and over the top violence, which are all good things.
I’ve babbled a great deal in the past about supporting the horror genre, and in a sea of remakes, prequels, and PG-13 ripoffs, Grindhouse – with its original scriptwork, explicit gore, and camp appeal- is a welcome addition I’ll see in the theatres repeatedly just for the fun of it.
