In Defense of the Horror Film (Part IV)

Part IV: Final Thoughts

Or, As For Me and My House, We Will Serve the Horror

I've been mentally composing this piece for about two years. How I would start it, how I would finish it, what points I would make... then, as so often happens when I sit down at the keyboard, the writing took over. I never suspected the turns this piece would take, or the length to which it would grow. I've been satisfied - it's just interesting to look at all four sections together and see how everything compares to my original intention.

How to sum everything up? I won't win any converts, and I can't say that was my intention. I simply wanted to give voice to a genre which I felt was unfairly represented and criticized, and to offer insight into my own maturation and appreciation, considering I too once believed the horror genre to be a complete waste of time.

How wrong I was! Okay, fine - a majority of the titles are a waste of time, but can't that be said of the majority of all movies of all genres? Jim Emerson recently estimated that only about 20% of all movies are worth watching, and sadly that's a pretty generous figure.

So what is the point, then, if you're not trying to convert people, and you're admitting that the genre is full of garbage? In a nutshell, what I've been trying to do over this past week is simply level the playing field, to offer perhaps a different way of looking at the genre. I know a lot of people - smart, reasonable, normal people - who all but refuse to watch horror movies. There are a few people in that mix who will watch "classics," or will occasionally venture out if a specific title receives high praise, but otherwise they simply ignore the genre.

We stand at an interesting crossroads in media consumption. In some ways, the horror genre has never been stronger. Just look at the financial, cultural, and critical success of television series like The Walking Dead or True Blood; horror series such as Saw and Paranormal Activity have become annual financial powerhouses; vampires have become chic with the success of the Twilight novel series. Despite this, however, there remains a stigma - a pervading thought that "Okay, dabble in this if you want some cheap laughs, but horror movies are not good for you!" People look down their noses at you when you say you like horror movies.

That's something that drives me crazy, and that's just the sort of unfair prejudice against the genre I'm talking about. When people talk about the horror genre, they always seem to have those annoying, invisible quote marks in the air: "It's great for a horror film," "Good for what it is," "A decent horror movie." Why all the qualifiers? It's like people are ashamed. The stereotype is that horror movies are stupid, carnal - something a sophisticated person could not enjoy. That attitude is stupid! Great movies are great movies. Drop the pretense.

In Defense of the Horror Film (Part III)

Part III - Learning to Enjoy the Fear

Or, How I Found that Lovin' Feelin'

The following statement is true: for every truly great horror movie I've seen (and I have seen a lot over the past few years), I have only seen about two or three bad ones, most of them being more mediocre than bad. (Although, to be fair, bad horror films tend to be really bad.) That's a pretty good ratio - better than my ratio for good dramas and comedies; and it blows the pants off my good action movie ratio. Granted, I tend to go off of recommendations or "Best of..." lists, so my criteria simply for watching a horror film are a little more selective than they are for other genres; even then, though, clearly these movies are doing something right. Some of the best filmic experiences I've ever had were watching horror films.

I find this to be the case for a number of reasons. First of all, more often than not watching a horror film is just as much about the experience as it is about the actual characters or story. Take Zack Snyder's Dawn of the Dead, for instance. A pretty good movie, but not exceptional. It's Romero's basic story (a few lowly survivors of a zombie infection hide out in a mall) with a lot more money, better special effects, and a heavy emphasis on gritty realism over slapstick. I think Romero's movie is better overall, though Snyder's is very entertaining in its own right. But the experience? Amazing. The single best audience I've ever watched a movie with. Laughter, gasps, screams, jolts - the movie delivered in exactly the way it should have, and the audience reacted better than Snyder could have hoped (and, frankly, better than he probably deserved - the rest of his career has tried to capture that same "wow" factor).

That's what a horror movie does better than any other type of film - it hits you. How ever they may do it - suspense, surprise, gore - horror movies evoke a much more visceral reaction than any other medium, and that's why I like them so much. A great horror movie utilizes all the weapons in a filmmaker's arsenal: without good acting, we wouldn't believe or invest in what's going on; without good filmmaking (building tension, arousing curiosity, appropriate pacing), we would not be affected in the first place; and without good music or sound, there would be no atmosphere. In short, a great horror film requires more from its filmmakers than other genres, and in my view it delivers more than other genres.

That last paragraph, I imagine, will draw some disagreement. What's so wrong about what I'm saying, though? When you think great dramas or comedies, you think great acting first and foremost; when you think great action, you think great technique and effects; great horror simply combines all those. Surely some think I'm being unfair, biased, simplistic, and perhaps I am to prove my point, but I also genuinely have a stronger visceral response to the horror genre than I do to any other genre. The great ones tap into something deep within you, exploiting fears and desires, conjuring up uneasiness and anxiety - and yet they entertain as well! (If you left feeling all morose and defeated, do you think people would go back year after year?) It's a tough balancing act; tougher than many are willing to admit.

Take a film like Audition - the scariest movie I've ever seen, without question: people will talk about the ending because that's the shocking payoff, but look at the film as a whole... Half of it is a dramedy! The first half - the entire set-up for the terror that follows - is a romantic comedy with tinges of drama... Where it goes from there, of course, is so dark, twisted, sick, and disturbingly plausible that by the time the film finally ends you feel like you have some sort of illness - something that has infected you and left you in a funk, and the only way to overcome it is to take a walk, get your bearings, and remind yourself that it's all just a movie. (Or at least, that's how I felt after. I seriously had to walk it off - nothing has ever affected me so much.) That kind of reaction doesn't come from cheap thrills or careless filmmaking; that comes only from careful execution, planning, and perfect work from all departments. It is a masterpiece, plain and simple.

In Defense of the Horror Film (Part II)

Part II - The Dark Room Effect:

Or, How to Watch a Horror Movie When You have No Friends

I feel like this is a good time to go back a little bit, to get a little more speculative and philosophical and let this piece breathe. Forgive my indulgence.

The origins of the horror story in popular culture are impossible to pinpoint, but in a cinematic context they were really informed by literature, as was often the case in early filmmaking. (Early films were treated much like plays, so they often drew from literary and/or theatrical sources.) Silent films dating as far back as the 1890s (Georges Melies's La Manoir du diable (The House of the Devil) is considered the first horror film) built upon the gothic horror literature of more than a century earlier which introduced such iconic characters as Dr Frankenstein, Dracula, Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, and others. Quite lofty beginnings for a genre roundly criticized for being too crass and vulgar.

Now, more than two centuries after the first written horror stories, and a century after the first filmed horror stories, we've gone through nearly every conceivable iteration of these characters and situations... yet audiences keep coming back. Nearly every scenario has been done so many times that we've ventured past cliche into caricature... and all the while, people want more. Audiences continually seek out tales which could disturb and excite them, which could exploit their fears and palpitate their senses... Where does this desire come from? Why do human beings like to be scared?

In my view, our desire to be scared stems from a few intrinsic human qualities. One - our innate mixture of fear and curiosity when it comes to the Unknown, and especially the Unknowable. The idea of the Unknown, whether embodied or disembodied, drives all of drama. We are curious by nature, and we want answers for our questions. The answer can be simple or complex, innocent or foreboding, but we still want to know. In the context of the horror story, this innate desire can be skewed and exploited. Think of the classic cliche: the naive, unsuspecting hiker hears a strange sound in the darkness, and goes to investigate. "What's out there?" "Where did that come from?" A whole host of questions arises from this one simple event, and the multitude of answers yields limitless possibilities for terror. A great horror story takes this concept a step further, producing what I refer to as the Unknowable. How much more terrifying is it to know the answer but not understand it? A perfect example exists in the comparison of John Carpenter's and Rob Zombie's respective Halloweens: the Zombie version set to distinguish itself by trying to explain Michael Myers, to show how/why he became the evil psychopath we know and fear; Carpenter simply took it as a given. It didn't matter how or why he was the way he was, you just had to get away! Which is more effective? Exactly.

Two - great horror stories consistently exploit our social nature, a cinematic phenomenon I refer to as the "Dark Room Effect." Have you ever watched a movie in a crowded theater and thought it was a great movie, only to watch it months later at home and find yourself less than impressed? It's the same reasoning behind the term "infectious laughter": human beings are social creatures, and when in groups, our reactions tend to be heightened. This is precisely why there are so many loud, startling, "Gotcha!" moments in movies - filmmakers are counting on the few people genuinely scared/surprised to infect the rest into feeling scared or surprised. It's audience manipulation, but it works. (Really great movies, of course, do not rely on this phenomenon, but all movies utilize it to a certain degree.) In a horror context, the Effect is heightened even more because darkness by its very nature obscures reality and rouses our curiosity. This is why I love to see horror movies with an audience - they evoke a much more visceral, collective response.

Movie theaters will undoubtedly go by the wayside one distant day; and when they do, I imagine horror movies will not be far behind. It is near impossible to recreate the Dark Room Effect in the cozy confines of a familiar setting; the only effective way to enjoy collective thrills sans a crowded theater is through nothing short of a viewing party. The more people the better, the less familiar the better.

In short, to really enjoy the full horror experience, you need a big, dark, cavernous space full of strange people, pictures, and sounds.

In Defense of the Horror Film (Part I)

Excessive. Gory. Disgusting. Emetic. Carnographic. Stupid.

Think of any adjective - especially any negative adjective - and you can pretty much guarantee it has been used at some time or other to describe some horror film, if not the entire genre. And you know something? It's not without merit. On the whole, horror films are really bad. The plotlines are dull, uninspired, and predictable, the "style" is often excessive, flashy, more interested in guts than grit, and the "characters" are generally just one-dimensional means to increase the film's body count... so, really, I get the near complete critical disregard of the genre, I do.

And yet...

Year after year... after year after year... I am continually drawn back. Hoping to find something new, something interesting, something exciting to reinvigorate my opinion of the horror film. More often than not I leave dissatisfied. But every once in a while, I find something truly special and extraordinary, something which gives the genre hope.

It is this search and this yearning I want to explore in these next few posts.

Misnomers

I'm going to stop apologizing for delayed posts. For some reason I feel this overwhelming need to write something every day for this blog, but the fact is I don't need to. I have a fair amount of people who read this, but not so many that they're demanding new material every day... plus I'm just exhausted. It's physically hard to keep my eyes open and stay awake most of the time these days. I'm trying to get things done, but my body is rebelling against me. Anyway, new stuff is in the works, so if you've had ants in the pants regarding my lengthy between-post pauses, you will soon be sated.

Anyway, now that that's out of the way, I have many pet peeves. Many. I rarely voice them or make them apparent, but they're there. And one of the things that annoys me most is when a title or name gives a false impression. I find it misleading and unfair, and generally it is an intentional decision to try and gather more of an audience.


mis-no-mer: [mis-noh-mer] noun
1. a misapplied or inappropriate name or designation.
2. an error in naming a person or thing.


This week's movie releases are a perfect example: Paranormal Activity 3 and Three Musketeers. Paranormal Activity 3 is a prequel to the first film... how does that warrant a 3? Clearly this was not a planned trilogy, otherwise the first film would have been dubbed Paranormal Activity 2; that would have confused a lot of people, but at least it would have been consistent. This type of thing bugs me.

The misnomer of Three Musketeers is more subtle. First of all, everyone knows (or at least everyone should know) there are more than three musketeers, but that is neither here nor there. The real issue here is that this crosses from misnomer to just plain misappropriation. I read Three Musketeers back in high school, and I can guarantee you that this movie has almost nothing to do with that book, aside from the period and most of the names. The book is an adventure tale, but it's also quite political. Several plot details relate to class disparity, sexism, legal justice - the action scenes are an extension of the underlying political text.

This film just looks like a travesty. Milla Jovovich is, apparently, playing the part of Milady, whose role in the book is quite limited... how is she the star? Also, my memory may be a little fuzzy, but the whole "steampunk" element involving jewelry heists, air battles, and other ridiculous machinery is just plain not there. The story, really, is a coming-of-age tale: d'Artagnan coming into a situation naive and ill-prepared, but then discovering himself and his abilities through his encounter with the musketeers. That looks to be lacking in this version

I know, I know - it's just a movie. I get that. My point, though, is: why bother to make a film called "The Three Musketeers," the title of a well known piece of classic literature, if said film has nothing to do with aforementioned book? You could save yourself a whole lot of time and just name it something else altogether, then there would be no issue. You can't tell me studio execs are trying to capture the Literati by adapting a classic novel. When have films of this sort shown any interest in being literate, much less literary? And it's not as though they're trying to encourage the young audience to read by bringing a piece of French literature to the screen; if they were, they wouldn't have altered the plot so much.

So really the question is: who are they trying to fool?

Directors I Gave Up On: Quentin Tarantino

Like so many movie-goers in the mid- to late '90s, I became a bit obsessed with Quentin Tarantino. At the time, his movies were unlike anything I'd ever seen - jumping around in time, such a "cool" mixture of violence, comedy, and music, characters talking about innocuous things but moving the plot along just the same; it was a special time to be a movie-goer... But lately, I feel like Quentin Tarantino is just too busy being Quentin Tarantino. He seems more obsessed with being the hip filmmaker full of clever references and homages - a pastiche artist, in a word - than being the guy who took familiar elements and packaged them in a new and exciting way.

My love of Tarantino, like most people, started with Pulp Fiction. Truth be told, though, it wasn't until the second time I saw the movie that I could really appreciate it. The first time I think I was only ten or eleven years old. I got it on video because it was popular at the time, but I didn't really "get" it. It wasn't until a few years later that I really warmed to the movie and saw it for what it was: a brilliant, brilliant bit of comedy wrapped inside the trappings of fairly standard noir stories. Then I went Quentin crazy: I fastidiously and obsessively pored over Reservoir Dogs, Pulp Fiction, Jackie Brown - picking up on the rhythms, the humor, the sheer effortlessness of the storytelling; it is thanks to Tarantino that I developed an "ear" for movie dialogue - prior to that, I just kind of passively watched and took in the expository stuff.

Unfortunately, it was only a few years after when things started to go downhill; and with Django Unchained on the horizon, it has become abundantly clear that Tarantino has given up trying to reinvent genre stories - he just wants to recreate them. It started with Kill Bill. And you know what? I liked Vol 1. I didn't love it, but I thought it was very funny, and I was really into Robert Richardson at the time, so it was nice to go into a movie theater and see expert cinematography on the screen. Then Vol 2 came out, and I distinctly remember sitting in the theater thinking, "Uh oh... something is wrong here. This is not working."

Tarantino has always been self-indulgent, but Kill Bill: Vol 2 really took it to a new level. Even in the terms of that particular story, the sheer vapidity of the whole thing just really turned me off. Looking back on Kill Bill as a whole, I find it to be a mixed bag: the cinematography and music are great, I love the sound design in Vol 1 (the cinematography is amazing, but it's the sound - the music, sound effects, and dialogue - that really drives the story), and David Carradine is fantastic... but everything with Michael Parks goes on too long, the whole Pai Mei thing doesn't really work, and Michael Madsen is a bore.

But even with that big mixed bag, I still called myself a fan. "No filmmaker bats a thousand," I told myself. It seemed like Quentin just kind of wanted to get away from seedy crime stories and have fun, so I gave him that indulgence... and then came Grindhouse. Entertaining, I'll grant you, but it's hard to get more self-indulgent and self-servient than that. I liked Death Proof more than Kill Bill (they're both mixed bags, but look at it this way - even if you hate both, at least Death Proof is short), but by this point alarms were going off. Death Proof came out in 2007 - ten years after Jackie Brown, Tarantino's last "real" movie - clearly this was not just about Quentin trying to change pace or "have fun"... this was not just a phase.

The last straw was Inglourious Basterds. Not a bad movie (I love the opening scene and everything with Cristoph Waltz), but this was the first time when Tarantino not only ripped off others, he ripped off himself. Compare that film to his earlier work - there are multiple lines, scenes, and music cues which come straight from his other movies. That is the tell-tale sign of a man who is running out of ideas; and for someone like Quentin Tarantino, who has yet to write a truly "original" story, that's not a good sign. I should say right now that I don't hate Inglourious Basterds - that just happened to be the movie where I finally threw in the towel and said, "Okay. I gave you four chances to prove me wrong and make a real movie like you did back in the 90s; now I'm done."

I worry some will read this as a tirade, but those who do are missing the point. Tarantino's story is not one of success undeserved or unwarranted, but rather potential wasted and unfulfilled. When he exploded on the scene in 1992, his goal was nothing less than to change the grammar of film (if not the language). Over the last decade, however, he has grown increasingly less ambitious, focusing instead on perfecting a particular dialect - variations on a theme. A pity. He could been remarkable.

Directors I Gave Up On: Tim Burton

That subject heading is a bit of a misnomer: saying that I "gave up" on Tim Burton implies that I was actually on board with him at some point, which unfortunately just is not the case. I gave Tim Burton many, many chances to win my affections and impress me with his "unique" view of the world, but time and time again, I find him to just be... well, a bit of a dullard.

Many people disagree with me, obviously. He's not just successful, he's his own brand. Burton's financial and cultural success seemed to peak some time ago, but his output seems on the rise. Good for fans, not so good for those us who have grown weary of him.

It's not that I think Burton is a hack... at least, not completely. He has a unique perspective, and it really seems that he puts a lot of time and care into his films, but basically I just feel like if you've seen one Tim Burton film, you've seen them all. It was fresh and interesting to have these goofy gothic comedies back in the eights (Beetlejuice, Edward Scissorhands), but once he started to get success and people started to fawn over him, it was all downhill from there.

His idiosyncrasies used to be unique, interesting; now they're old hat. I'm just sick of seeing an unrestrained Johnny Depp prance around without real character or motivation; sick of the obsessive pale-skinned make-up; sickof Danny Elfman's repetitive, "quirky" scores; sick of the German Expressionist design of every little thing (When is the last time you watched Batman Returns? Didn't realize the significance as a kid, but Christopher Walken actually plays a character named Max Schreck! Pathetic!)... I'm just done with the "Tim Burton"-ness of every Tim Burton movie.

You know Tim Burton's best movie, by far? Ed Wood. You know why? Because it's the least like his other movies. Burton finally showed a restraint and an attention to detail and character that is not only sorely missing from his other work, it's just plain not in his other work. With Ed Wood, Burton proved he could make a great film; but with future projects such as Dark Shadows, based on the mildly popular soap of the same name, and Frankenweenie, a full-length stop-motion remake of his live-action short, it seems that Tim Burton is going to stay and play in wonderland for the forseeable future.

A pity.

Enough with the 3D Already!

I am all for technological advances. They make life easier, and in the context of filmmaking they more often than not make the process safer and generally make the final product at least look better. That does not excuse poor technique - bad cinematography will always be bad cinematography - but the special effects of today, for the most part, look better than the special effects of thirty years ago. (Although, to its credit, the special effects of Terminator 2: Judgment Day remain some of the best ever done, even after twenty years.)

That said, though, just because you can do something doesn't mean you should.

The latest fad is 3D. The basic technology has, of course, been around for decades in one form or another (3D filmmaking apparently started as early as 1936, but it didn't really catch on until 1952), and for the last few years we've been in a bit of a strange-hold. Why, exactly, I'm not sure; I think it boils down to dissatisfaction both on the part of the audience and on the part of the distributors. If you ask most people, they'll say movies "aren't what they used to be," or some cliche similar to that; and I'll bet that if there were a way to confront distributors, they would echo a similar sentiment about ticket sales and how - even though the dollar figures keep going up - the number of actual people attending keeps going down. We could debate whether either sentiment has any firm footing for hours and get absolutely nowhere, but that's really missing the point. The point is that 3D is the latest tactic distributors have latched on to in order to boost sales, and for the most part it seems to be working. That is, generally, 3D tickets outnumber 2D tickets for the same title; a 3D version is more often hailed as the "must-see" version (just think of Avatar - the 2D was all but impossible to find theatrically); and there are a sizable number of people who willingly go to a movie they otherwise wouldn't see, simply because it is in 3D.

Now, don't get me wrong - I'm not naive. I realize that when you get down to it, distributors are sales people: they will always be looking for something to "get asses in the seats." It started with the synch-sound film, then color, then widescreen, then 3D, then smell-o-vision, and so on... as you can see, though, many of the first big ploys to bring in crowds were really technological breakthroughs, whereas the more recent ones are more technological trivialities. (I'm thinking of Final Fantasy: Spirits Within, so heavily marketed as the "first" full-length photo-realistic computer-animated film. Very few talked about the story or whether the movie was any good - it was the buzz word at the time simply because it was "first." That's not a breakthrough, that's just trivia.)

The most important thing to keep in mind, no matter the goal, is the question "Does this diminish or strengthen audience experience?" That is not so easy to answer. Some, like techno wizard James Cameron, clearly think the future of filmmaking lies in 3D, which is appropriate because his film Avatar has really been the only film to date that has made a compelling argument for the necessity of 3D (Avatar was not particularly good as a story, but as a spectacle and as a technological achievement, it's pretty remarkable). Other big Hollywood names with just as much clout, however, are also staking their claim, and they don't exactly agree with Cameron's view. I was so happy, for instance, when Christopher Nolan took a stand against 3D, citing technical drawbacks of both the filmmaking and film-viewing process; and in nearly every review for the last few years, Roger Ebert has trashed 3D, citing a dimmer image. Perhaps the most compelling argument, though, came from an Ebert supplemental article from the great Walter Murch:

Why 3D Doesn't Work (and Never Will)

Nolan, Ebert, and other like-minded film authorities were doing damage; Murch delivered the coup de grace. Just read that article! How lucid, how succinct! And how can you argue that? Gear-heads like Cameron and Nolan can say all they want about foot-lamberts, viewing angles, stereoscopic this, yadda yadda that - most of it just goes over our heads, and for the most part we don't see a difference in the final product (personally, while I respect and admire Ebert's opinion, I don't have the luxury of comparing 3D and 2D versions of the same film to see which is brighter or dimmer)... But when you flat out say that 3D just doesn't work biologically, well, that's kind of hard to argue. Hats off to Walter Murch.

In the end, this topic is really rather fruitless. I'm looking at this from a more philosophical, egalitarian perspective ("What's best for the viewer?"). Film executives and distributors, while not necessarily ignoring this question, have a much more utilitarian view: "How much will this cost, and how much money will it make?" And as long as the general public is willing to consistently shell out a few extra dollars per ticket - diminished viewing quality or not - then I'm afraid 3D will be around for the foreseeable future. It feels as though the fad has hit its crest, but we still have to ride the wave down to normalcy.

Random Thoughts

Just a few things floating around in my head that didn't have enough form or substance for stand-alone pieces...

1) I'm glad Machine Gun Preacher isn't gaining any traction. Great title, but not for a movie that clearly is dripping with cheese and heavy-handedness. Looks like the Blind Side crowd had a little more sense this time around.

2) My fiancee was watching Legally Blonde on TV the other day. It's amazing how dated that movie is. Ali Larter, Luke Wilson, Selma Blair, even Reese herself - almost every cast member's wave had crested long ago.

3) I saw a bumper sticker for a Tae Kwon Do academy that had a ridiculous amount of competing messages. In one corner was a yin-yang, symbolizing the balance of good and evil. In one corner it simply said "Say no to drugs." In one corner was the name of the dojo. And in the last corner was a family dressed in matching uniforms, symbolizing of course the value of family togetherness and implying that martial arts would be a valuable family activity. Across the bottom it said "Cardio. Athletic. Family" - obviously they're trying to reach a wide audience. The most bizarre thing was the picture in the middle: one student was jump-kicking another one in the face. Doesn't it seem contradictory to have so many implied messages about the importance of peace, togetherness, family, and unity, and then to have this violent act right in the center to negate it all? A better idea: just a picture of one person kicking. Problem solved.

4) Lot of homework to catch up on, so I may fall behind again this week. Sorry!

He Must Work Out

For those who missed perhaps my most autobiographical entry (read it here): intially after finishing my undergrad, I considered being a cop. I'm not really sure why - anyone who knows me is completely stupefied by the idea - but I think it was mostly because the job offered decent pay with no additional schooling. Plus, even if I was no good at it, it would have at least been an interesting job.

But that is neither here nor there. The important thing is that ambition gave me the determination to completely change my life. I was what some would have called "skinny fat." That is, I have never been overweight (just the opposite, my lifelong problem has always been keeping weight on), but that doesn't exactly mean I was healthy either. During most of my adolescence and young adulthood, I ate horribly. Virtually no fruits and vegetables, too much red meat, and tons of carbs, sodium, and sugar. It was really kind of disgusting. But my hobbies didn't really require a lot of physical activity, so I didn't think it was a big deal.

Thankfully, in my mid-twenties I finally got more sense; and when the whole law enforcement idea was in my head, I gave my diet and lifestyle a complete overhaul. I got a gym membership, started lifting weights, and actually started paying attention to what was going into my body. A novel idea, I know. Sometimes I'm a little slow.

So for a couple years I worked out four to five times a week, lifting three to four days and jogging one to two. The whole idea was to gain muscle and finally bring my body weight up to where it should be (for reference, I'm basically right at 6 feet tall, and my weight that first day at the gym was 126 lbs). Now let it be known right here that I am by no means trying to brag about anything. At my "peak" I was 158 lbs (about twenty pounds shy of my ideal body weight, according to the trainers), jogging five miles a week, and the best bench press I ever did was a few presses of 210 lbs. It's obvious I was never going to be a body builder, but it was at least getting to be respectable.

Things have changed, though. Priorities have shifted. I've dropped the gym membership - it got to be too expensive, considering how little I went and how crazy my schedule was getting to be. I used to make time to work out regardless - jogging a little bit and doing a medicine ball weight routine... now I exercise when it's convenient, and these days, frankly, it just isn't convenient. I jog occasionally with my fiancee, but she has become a jogging fiend. She used to hate working out, especially the cardio, but for the past month she's been jogging two to three miles... every day! I can't do that! At my best I was doing two and a half miles twice a week - and she is leaving me in the dust.

The bad part is I really want to work out, I just can't find the time or muster the energy to do it. Everything I do goes in a different direction, whether it be school, work, play, family; it seems so selfish and trivial to try and work out every day when there are more important things that need to be done.

The ill effects are starting to become apparent, unfortunately. I haven't weighed myself in a while, but I'd be willing to bet that I'm down to 150 at most, maybe more like 145. What little muscle I do have these days isn't very well toned at all... I'm just a mess. I've really got to get it turned around. Maybe not as hardcore as I was a few years ago, but at least something consistent. And that's the key - consistent. I'm a firm believer that you'll be a reasonably healthy person if you are just consistent with your routine, provided the routine is reasonably healthy of course. I'll get back to where I should be, it's just a matter of balacing everything that's going on right now.

Why Remake a Great Film?

I know I'm not supposed to say this, but I get remakes. From a financial perspective, that is. Studio executives are always looking for a sure thing... and can you blame them? If you wanted to invest and subsequently earn back millions of dollars, I think you'd want to make a pretty safe bet, too. So I get it when studios announce remake after remake, or sequel after sequel. They're tapping built-in markets, and then hoping to bring in new customers as well. From a business perspective, it makes sense.

From a filmmaking perspective, though, remakes make no sense to me. It puts you in a quandary as a filmmaker: you want to branch out into your own new direction, but you have to be (at least somewhat) true to the source material. This works okay if the original film isn't all that great to start with. I mean, who's going to complain if you improve upon something? The Ryan Reynolds Amityville Horror, for instance, didn't cause much of a stir because the original film isn't very good. The Omen remake, however, caught a bit more flak because the original is kind of a horror classic.

Speaking of which, why do horror films always seem to get the remake treatment? The Haunting, House of Wax, The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, and on and on and on - so many movies, none of them worth the film they're printed on. Gus van Sant's Psycho was truly a pointless exercise. A shot-for-shot remake? Really? If you're not going to do anything different, why should I waste my time? Horror is such a simple genre to do. It's perhaps the hardest genre to do well, but it's pretty straightforward as far as crafting a story. Yet there are at least a few horror remakes each year.

What doesn't work at all is trying to remake a great film. Why bother? This rarely happens, but it still comes up; and if the subsequent films were more successful, I'm sure studio executives would love to mine old classics for more "updated" treatments. I'm sure someone has been itching to remake Citizen Kane, and maybe one day he'll get his chance.

Not in the same realm as Citizen Kane, but a fantastic film nonetheless, is The Thing, the latest to get the remake treatment, and I am upset. Upset because John Carpenter's The Thing (1982) is already a remake of Howard Hawks's The Thing from Outer Space (1951), which itself was based on a book (1938's Who Goes There?). Clearly horror filmmakers are drawn to the idea of a shape-shifting monster stalking his prey in the isolated landscape of the Arctic, but still - do we really need three versions of one story, especially when the first is a classic in its own right and the second is perhaps one of the best of the sci-fi/horror genre?

The producers are trying to circumvent this comparison by saying this new film is a prequel, but who are they kidding? Seriously, a prequel? ... Thirty years after the fact? ... With the same title and same story, just transplanted to a slightly different location? That sounds like a remake, my friends - a remake that is trying desperately to save face.

Prequel, remake, whatever - what disturbs me most is that there is simply no chance that this new film will be better than the Carpenter version. Aside from the incredible storytelling technique and groundbreaking, jaw-dropping special effects, The Thing also has undoubtedly one of the best endings of any horror film ever made. Even if you hate the rest of the film (which is ridiculous), you just have to give it up for that ending. Rarely has a movie so perfectly captured the relentless, hopeless fate of its protagonist. That's what makes it extraordinary. Despite claims to the contrary, I'm willing to bet this most recent entry will be more interested in the "sound and fury" of the monster than the paranoia it causes.

One good thing about sequels/remakes, though: nine times out of ten, you can DVR the original in the weeks surrounding the theatrical release. Thank you very much.

At Least She Made ONE Good Decision

You have no idea how relieved I am by Sarah Palin's recent announcement that she will not be running for President. Not that I thought she had a legitimate chance - she's too polarizing a figure - but it's a relief nonetheless.

The woman is just completely nuts! It's a wonder she can get dressed in the morning. What's truly astounding to me is how many fans and supporters she has. Some of these people must be, on some level, strictly along for the ride - to see what crazy thing she'll do or say next - but others legitimately think she'd be a good politician. How anyone could honestly believe such a thing is beyond me. After all, Sarah Palin has made it astoundingly clear - without even much effort - just how incompetent she is when it comes to managing her personal affairs, never mind the business of an entire nation... for four years. Could you imagine? Anyone who thinks Palin has any idea what she's doing or saying you just kind of have to regard with a bemused smile while you start backing away slowly.

I won't lie: when she was tapped for VP in 2008, I was intrigued. Who was this nobody with no pretension and the no-frills attitude? Then she opened her mouth, and you knew pretty much right away she would never be anything more than a television personality. And let's be honest, that's what she is. I know she's been riding around in a bus for the last few months, claiming she's celebrating history or helping the American people in some obscure way, but really - Sarah Palin just doesn't have the insight, the moxie, or even the common sense to be a leader. She's a talking head, nothing more.

I will say this, though, in her defense: at least she had the sense to stay out of the ring. She's been run through the ringer a few times already, and I think she knew that neither she nor her family could really go through it a second time. Plus, why would she want to? She's already immensely popular, attracting news, cameras, headlines, and attention everywhere she goes, and she's accountable to no one. Her decisions are amusing and puzzling, but they don't really affect anybody.

I wish I had it so lucky.

New Toy?

Ours is an old-fashioned house. During mine and my fiancee's wedding planning process, my future father-in-law has commented upon this fact several times. I asked her family's permission, our gender roles are slightly archaic, and our decorations as well as the general theme and tone have consistently sided with tradition over modernism.

And ours is a house that likes to read.

You would truly be amazed to see the range of literature on our bookshelf: from James Joyce to Jude Deveraux, Margaret Mitchell to Michael Crichton - we've got it all, and we want more. It is a requirement that we have a reading room in our house.

Making the leap from hardcover to e-book, then, was not the easiest thing for us to do, but the sheer convenience of carrying such tomes as Don Quixote, War and Peace, and Thus Spake Zarathustra in a single half-pound unit was just too much for even us to pass up. So we got a Kindle.

And now our e-reader family may be expanding.

For some time now my fiancee has been thinking of getting a laptop - or at least something more portable than her cinema-sized iMac; likewise, I've been considering a tablet - or at least something I could easily take to and from school for recreational use.

Enter the Kindle Fire, perhaps the perfect compromise. It's inexpensive and has the bulk of features we're looking for. Maybe not as powerful or extensive as an iPad, certainly not as capable as a laptop, but we're truly looking for something novel (pardon the pun): convenient, easy to use, and fairly minimal in scope. Neither of us is looking to really compute away from home - mostly we just want something to keep us amused and somewhat connected when we're out and about.

I'm not saying we're definitely getting it, but it's definitely something the White household is keeping tabs on. Actually looking forward to product reviews!

Quick Update

I know I've kind of fallen off a bit on the posts (okay, not really - only missed a couple days, but still), but I'm working on getting things back up to speed. I realize my readership is small, but I kind of get addicted to these things. Once I start, I go full steam ahead, like it or not.

There are several topics and ideas kind of floating around in my head, and I'm working to find a free moment to start on some rough drafts, but that's neither here nor there. For now, I just want to make a few announcements.

1) Watch David Letterman tonight. I'm not even sure who the guest is (nor do I care, frankly), but the musical guest is none other than the great Mastodon. Promoting The Hunter, obviously, so I fully recommend everyone either stay up late or DVR. Most excited I've been for David Letterman since he did "drum solo" week earlier this year with special guest Neil Peart. Speaking of Neil, watch one of the greatest drum solos ever here.

2) Speaking of Mastodon, I finally got a chance to listen to The Hunter. A very strong entry. Many diverse elements on the disc. Mastodon's earlier albums gravitated from the rough, hard, and earthy to the obscure, ethereal, and meaty; The Hunter is more a combination. Some tracks are aggressive, even brutal; others slow things down and delve into softer territory. There's even one track which seems to kind of be Mastodon's take on a love song. I prefer 2009's Crack the Skye because it was a more ethereal kind of concept album (and I love concept albums), but these guys are still one of the most interesting and exciting musical acts performing now, so anything from them is worth a listen.

3) I'm starting to get more of a handle on my schedule. That doesn't make it any less challenging, but I feel more confident now, after seven weeks. Solid As in each class, though I have to be careful in Anatomy/Physiology as we're starting to learn all of the bones and bone markings. Much repetition is needed. Wish me luck with that. Likewise, Organic Chemistry is only a solid A because our test was curved - but hey, it's an A!

4) Where should we go for our honeymoon? I've mentioned my fiancee quite a bit (for those who haven't figured it out, she posts as "Kate"), and I'm looking for some opinions. We've thrown around quite a few ideas, but now we're pretty set on doing a few days in the Pacific Northwest and then a week-long Alaskan cruise. Sounds really great to me. Thoughts? Vendors to check for deals?

That's all I've got for now. Like I said, I'm working on keeping things more up to date here, so keep checking!

I Don't Like Hot Drinks (or: How I Became a Coffee-Drinker)

If you asked me a year ago - hell, even a month ago - how I felt about coffee, I would have said it's absolutely disgusting, would never drink it by choice, felt like gagging whenever someone offered it to me, et cetera... and I genuinely felt that way. Fast-forward to present day, and I'm drinking probably five cups a week, depending on the week.

What happened? A convolution of factors, summarized by two facts. One: my schedule became too much for me to handle. Two: I found a coffee I liked.

I used to pride myself on my ability to get through the day and plow ahead with my responsibilities on a diet of soda and potato chips. Throughout high school and college, my most common snacks throughout a given day were a few cans of Pepsi and Lay's Sour Cream & Onion chips. Delicious... and yet disgusting. It's sickening how much sugar I consumed as a teenager. These days I thankfully have more sense - I'll snack on crackers, cheeses, peanuts, the occasional soda - but it's harder to get enough energy to make it through some days. A trade-off: better health, less energy. Couple that with the utterly insane schedule I've been maintaining since mid-March (i.e., a full class load, full workload, wedding/honeymoon planning, puppy training, and about 4-5 hours of sleep a night), and it's clear something had to be done. For the first time in my life, I could not handle everything that was on my plate.

This is where coffee comes in. People have told me for years that I should start drinking coffee, and I always dismissed it. For one thing, I was absolutely disgusted by the flavor; secondly, I was getting by fine without it. It's when I was hired by the hospital that I finally gave in. So I started doing my research with only one goal in mind: to find a coffee that would not only do the job, but that I could actually enjoy. I read up on the "best" coffees, compiled a list on those that sounded most intriguing, and finally gave it a try... but I had to start small. That first cup, for instance, was a tiny eight-ounce Styrofoam cup of Kona coffee with a Milky Way flavor shot.

Delicious! It tasted like caffeinated hot chocolate. The next day at the grocery store I tried to replicate that same cup - unfortunately, though, it was a different brand of Kona, and there was no flavor shot. Again I had to start small. Just a couple scoops of coffee and a little too much water. Result: not bad, but a little too bitter. I added milk - horrible idea! Just did not mix well with the coffee, made it taste worse. Second experiment: same coffee : water ratio, this time with creamer. Much better. Lesson learned: a little creamer goes a long way. Since then I've perfected "my" Kona routine: two scoops coffee + approximately 12oz. water. I start off drinking it "black," then when it turns too bitter, I add just a little creamer and some sugar. Tasty.

Considering all that, though, I still don't know that I'd call myself a coffee-lover. I've come to enjoy this flavor, but it's still more a necessary evil than a beverage I seek out. For instance, I don't make coffee unless I need it. For days off work, or when my morning starts at a normal time, I skip it; only when I'm really tired or need to go for a long time do I brew a cup.

I have, however, ventured out. I'm trying to expand my range of flavors to find what I like best, so I've ordered three new flavors to try: Tanzanian Peaberry, Ethiopian Yirgacheffe, and Kenyan AA. I didn't intend to order so much, but the deal was just too good. It should last for months. Of these, the one I anticipate liking most is the Tanzanian; conversely, because it is a darker roast than I'm accustomed to, I'm guessing that the Kenyan will be my least favorite. But who knows - I could be surprised! After all, I never anticipated being a coffee-drinker in the first place, much less one who's trying to find his favorite of the major African flavors. Funny how things change.

Attention Philadelphia Eagles: How to Fix Your Failing Season

As I mentioned last week, I'm a big fan of the Philadelphia Eagles. They're not a dynasty like the Patriots, but they're a well managed organization, and an exciting, competitive team to watch season to season.

Over the offseason Philadelphia accumulated the so-called (now sarcastically) "Dream Team": a defensive backfield filled with some of the most talented players in the league at their position... yet here they've given up nearly eighty points in three games. They also paid a huge sum to keep Michael Vick firmly cemented as their starting QB... and he's suffered weekly injuries, to the extent that he's only finished one game and is essentially wearing a Kevlar uniform. (And that's no exaggeration - after the concussion, he got a Kevlar helmet; after the fractured hand, he got a Kevlar glove... what's next?) This is a team many people picked to go the Super Bowl - at the very least, deep into the playoffs - and they're only 1-2.

That's hardly a reason to get worried, certainly no reason to get desperate, but it's also time to get things turned around. Philadelphia plays best when they have momentum, swagger even; and this team is a peacock that has lost its feathers. Good news, though - I have a few suggestions to fix things!

(1) Stop shooting yourselves in the foot.

Easier said than done, I realize, but the Eagles dominated that Atlanta game. Truly dominated. Atlanta couldn't get much of anything going through the air or on the ground... yet somehow they managed to win. How? They capitalized on Eagle mistakes; and good God, were there plenty of those. Within the span of a few minutes Vick alone had like two fumbles and one interception.

Solution: Stop the stupid mistakes. Vick can't keep forcing throws, and the secondary can't keep missing tackles.

(2) Don't rely on Michael Vick.

I get it: Michael Vick is a freak of nature, athletically speaking. The speed and quickness of a running back with the golden arm of a Steve Young-type quarterback. He can make the throws, he can make people miss, but Vick's greatest weakness has always been and continues to be his decision-making. Don't get me wrong - he's vastly improved, but he still has problems dealing with pressure (especially when teams force him to his right), he still throws into danger, and worst of all he basically forces the entire game to reflect his performance. Consider the Atlanta and New York losses: almost all their points came off turnovers, and a majority of those turnovers came from Michael Vick either making poor decisions or throwing into coverage.

Solution: Protect Michael Vick. Preach patience to him. This is a team - one player should not be able to lose the game.

(3) Get the ball to DeSean Jackson.

Never mind the fact that he's on my fantasy team - pound for pound, DeSean Jackson is one of the most talented players in the league. He'll drop a few balls, and his ego often gets in the way (who can forget when he threw the ball and started celebrating before crossing the goal line in that game against Dallas?), but when he has the ball in space, he can make extraordinary things happen... and yet how involved is he? After three games, he has one touchdown (in the first game) and not even two hundred yards receiving. This just won't work if Philadelphia wants to win. In an offense as famously high-flying as the Eagles' is, you just have to give this guy as many chances as possible.

Solution: DeSean Jackson needs at least ten targets a game. I understand that the Eagles have a number of extremely talented players, especially on offense, but everyone is getting their fair share except for Jackson, and the team is 1-2. Get Jackson more involved, and I guarantee that number will go up. LeSean McCoy and Jeremy Maclin are doing their part, but they're supporting players - it's time to let DeSean Jackson be the star.

That's all I got. I realize this may not be the most exciting topic for my usual readers, but as you've probably noticed, I write what I'm compelled to write. And tonight I'm compelled to write about this young man's plight.

Night Shift: Part II

It wasn't my intention, really.

When I sat down last night to try and relate my first overnight working experience, I didn't mean to get all autobiographical on everybody. I wanted to relate what it was actually like to be up all night working in a hospital... but I didn't get there. Hence the slightly ridiculous act of splitting this innocuous post into two parts.

Toward the end of August I was hired as a Patient Care Technician in the Intensive Care Unit at a local Illinois hospital. For those like me who had never heard of the position: it's basically a step up from Certified Nursing Aide. You do virtually the same tasks - positioning, cleaning, ambulation, etc - and then additional tasks such as catheter removal, blood draws, and so on. I'm continually amazed at how much autonomy I'm given, especially considering the fact I'm in the ICU.

Up until yesterday, I've only worked the day shift. A twelve-hour day shift, but daytime nonetheless. So after a few weeks of that, it seemed time to get some experience at night.

So far it's been slow. I've seen some interesting things (one patient had a brain bleed and now is missing part of the skull, given it a sunken in appearance), but the night nurses are much more independent, and everyone is much more laid back. The whole pace of the hospital is different. During the daytime, there's a much more harried feeling: Do it now! I need that, stat! Move, move, move! Not to invoke a cliche, but the difference between the shifts really is night and day.

These tenured Polish women keep insisting that I've simply been "lucky" - that normally it's non-stop action from 7 PM to 7 AM... haven't seen that. Granted, this is only my second night, but still... it seems safe to say that although the night shift is harder on you biologically and socially (I actually had to say to my fiancee when she was leaving to meet a friend at 4 PM, "Okay, I'll see you tomorrow morning"), it is not any more difficult in terms of the amount of work or the range of tasks.

The most difficult part, really, is dealing with the biological effects. It's dark, it's quiet, I'm underslept and overworked, and from midnight to 4 AM, there really is not much to do for a PCT (obviously - how else do you think I have time to write this?)... and from about 2:30 AM to 4 AM, it just gets brutal. At that time, unequivocally, the only people awake are employees. It just drains you. I try coffee, soda, sugar - anything to get the energy up - but after a while, my body just says, "No, you go to hell; you can't fool us. We're tired and we want to sleep." I don't know how people do this for years.

I imagine that while I'm employed here the majority of my shifts will be during the day, but there will be a fair amount of night work... Just need to maintain some semblance of a schedule, that way I can keep up with school work and work work, all while getting as much sleep as possible.