Category Archives: Film

RIP, Heath Ledger

Celebrity, Film, Gender, Hollywood, Psychiatry, The Zeitgeist

I don’t know much about this young actor; I’m not sure there is that much to know. To “mature” women like myself, he epitomized the new feminized male, low on testosterone and anemic to look at. (In “The Patriot,” I only had eyes for Mel.) Unmanly and hence unattractive. Young women nowadays, as I’ve observed, seem to like the type.

“Whenever I venture out, I encounter this not-so-new breed of man. Typically, he’ll have a few spoilt, cranky kids in tow, and a papoose strapped to a sunken chest. He’ll be laboring to make the outing to Trader Joe’s a ‘learning experience’ for the brats—one that every other store patron is forced to endure. This generic guy oozes psychological correctness and zero manliness. He’s not necessarily effeminate, mind you. Rather, he’s safely androgynous, and most certainly not guy-like in the traditional sense. As personalities go, he and the wife are indistinguishable.”

Poor Heath had been separated from his live-in lover. Perhaps she dismissed him because he failed to check the percentage of trans fats when out shopping. I’m just speculating.

As sad as the death of any harmless-enough young person is, I’m afraid I was not wowed by his performance in “Brokeback Mountain,” a film I was forced to view—well, let’s just say “circumstances combined to render me a captive audience.” I wrote:

“Heath Ledger as Ennis (an unfortunate name) Del Mar tried to emulate Marlon Brando’s potato-in-the-cheek mumbling in ‘The Godfather.’ A bad idea then—and now. The ‘love scene’ between the two men was akin to a bear fight. And as sensuous (contrast it with the artful and achingly sad scene in ‘Midnight Express’). The only sympathetic and authentic character was Alma Del Mar, the betrayed wife (portrayed by Michelle Williams), and her castaway kids.”

As for prescription drugs, which Heath took to put him to sleep and allay anxiety: A daily glass or two of red wine, and a jog will cure most neuroses. Even if take medication at a time in your life when they’re needed—they often act as a placebo—be sure to wean yourself off these kidney and liver killers. If you can’t sleep, read until you fall asleep. It has worked for me since the age of six, although, admittedly, I am bad sleeper, and go to bed at 2:30am.

RIP, Heath Ledger

Celebrity, Film, Gender, Hollywood, Psychiatry, The Zeitgeist

I don’t know much about this young actor; I’m not sure there is that much to know. To “mature” women like myself, he epitomized the new feminized male; low on testosterone and anemic to look at. (In “The Patriot,” I only had eyes for Mel.) Unmanly and hence unattractive. Young women nowadays, as I’ve observed, seem to like the type:

“Whenever I venture out, I encounter this not-so-new breed of man. Typically, he’ll have a few spoilt, cranky kids in tow, and a papoose strapped to a sunken chest. He’ll be laboring to make the outing to Trader Joe’s a ‘learning experience’ for the brats—one that every other store patron is forced to endure. This generic guy oozes psychological correctness and zero manliness. He’s not necessarily effeminate, mind you. Rather, he’s safely androgynous, and most certainly not guy-like in the traditional sense. As personalities go, he and the wife are indistinguishable.”

Poor Heath had been separated from his live-in lover. Perhaps she dismissed him because he failed to check the percentage of trans fats when out shopping. I’m just speculating.

As sad as the death of any harmless-enough young person is, I’m afraid I was not wowed by his performance in “Brokeback Mountain,” a film I was forced to view—well, let’s just say “circumstances combined to render me a captive audience.” I wrote:
“Heath Ledger as Ennis (an unfortunate name) Del Mar tried to emulate Marlon Brando’s potato-in-the-cheek mumbling in ‘The Godfather.’ A bad idea then—and now. The ‘love scene’ between the two men was akin to a bear fight. And as sensuous (contrast it with the artful and achingly sad scene in ‘Midnight Express’). The only sympathetic and authentic character was Alma Del Mar, the betrayed wife (portrayed by Michelle Williams), and her castaway kids.”

As for prescription drugs, which Ledger took to put him to sleep and allay anxiety: A daily glass or two of red wine, and a jog will cure most neuroses. The first is easy, the last, not so easy. Even if medication is taken at a time in one’s life when it’s needed (it often acts as a placebo), be sure to wean yourself off these kidney and liver killers. If you can’t sleep, read until you fall asleep. This has worked for me since the tender age of six, although, admittedly, I am bad sleeper and go to bed at 2:30 am.

Live Free or Die Hard: Geeks As Gods

Film, Hollywood, Objectivism, Technology, The Zeitgeist

I enjoy Bruce Willis, but even he can’t be expected to make a pathetic script and characters come alive in the latest “Die Hard” flick.

“Live Free or Die Hard” is studded with familiar Hollywood clichés:

The future of the US—and hence the free world—lies in the capable hands of unkept, dirty-looking, young 20-something computer geeks.

Older men like Willis may be muscular and heroic, but they are essentially dumb—devoid of the young’s brilliance, something they keep chanting. What’s more, everything about them is so yesterday—the music they like, the sort of parents they are; it’s all just crap, deserving of the hissing contempt of the young.

The shallow progeny has no idea dad’s daily drudgery includes many a heroic feat. Only when dad nearly dies rescuing the young bitch’s worthless behind does bitch decide to take on his last name.

This admittedly is the staple Hollywood pabulum. You’ve seen it in every single film and TV series: youngsters sneering at their parents, dishing out dirt, telling the parent—dad predominantly—how worthless he is. For his part, instead of cutting off the viper’s funds, dad grovels on his belly begging for some crumbs from the imperious offspring’s metaphoric table.

Yes, these are undying Hollywood themes, but that doesn’t mean they’re not as sick-making each time they’re encountered.

I watched the film with two technologically savvy “older” men (aged 42 and 52 respectively), who’re rather competent at problem solving. As much as they (and I) love action films, nothing about the special effects was believable.

Perhaps most ludicrous is Hollywood’s mythical, infantile conception of computers. Seat a PC savvy type—provided he’s young, of course—in front of a random monitor, and, evidently, there’s no end to the information he or she can squeeze from the thing, including to intercept a fighter aircraft flying above.

Don’t these people consult anyone who actually works in the business?

The usual useless idiots will try and extract heroic symbolism from this sorry script. Resorting to symbolism is subjective—to project one’s own infantile projections onto a cultural product is certainly an intellectual cop-out. Objective merits are what ought to count first and foremost in the assessment of all such products.

Consider a good review of “Live Free or Die Hard” as the litmus test for the stupid reviewer.

Update # II: ‘Redacted’: De Palma Tells The Truth

Film, Hollywood, Media

“There’s one pesky problem with all the indignant huffing and puffing” over the film “Redacted”; it’s “based on a true story. It’s a docudrama. Moral grandstanding notwithstanding, our mighty mediacrats have failed to mention that minor detail.”

“De Palma has, at least, bothered to commemorate the vanquished young victim at the center of ‘Redacted.’ To Rupert Murdoch’s protégés in Mainstream Media, Abeer Qasim Hamza al-Janabi is redundant, a castaway. The same broadcasters who won’t quit braying when an American youngster is harmed pan De Palma for widening his lens to include an Iraqi girl’s ghastly demise at the hands of American soldiers…”

The complete column is “Redacted: De Palma Tells The Truth,” now on WorldNetDaily.com.

Update #I: I’m pro-truth, not anti-troops. For those who can’t Google–or rely on Michelle Malkin to verify facts for them–this case is well-documented. The culprits are sitting in jail, one for 90 years. The idea that individuals should shut up to serve what the mediacrats and their masters in Washington declare to be best for the fictitious collective is … fascistic.

Update #II: Americans don’t want to see a miserable film about a war most don’t support and aren’t able to bring to an end, thanks in no part to the lapdogs that lap up the propaganda perpetrated by what I’ve dubbed the Media-Military-Congressional-Industrial-Complex.
Said offenders have surmised Americans won’t see the film because they want the army to continue mucking about in Iraq. Who’s to say Americans are not simply avoiding a miserable film, about a miserable reality they can do nothing about? Wake up lapdogs! The likes of Ann Coulter are getting rich off the war; you ordinary suckers are paying for it—some with their lives, and all with a devalued dollar and depreciated assets.

As for those who would like to decide what narrative will power a De Palma film: Why can’t De Palma tell any sorry story he likes? Why must he do what these collectivists think he should do? Since when must a director be directed in the choice of his subject matter? So much for our dwindling freedoms. Live and let live.

Asking “what is De Palma’s motive or justification” for producing his film is like asking me why I inveigh against injustices as I see them. I’m a political and cultural commentator. If you want to read non-controversial nonsense, then read Cosmopolitan. Similarly, filmmakers are like novelists; the one writes about things he thinks are important and have touched him; the other depicts them on celluloid. (Personally, I like films like “Dressed to Kill”—thrillers. As I say in the column, Hollywood no longer entertains me.) This reminds me of the foul attacks I got when, starting in 2002, I protested the unjust, illegal, unconstitutional Iraq war. It’s no different.