January 26, 2006


Terrence Malick, whose movies I like, always, has grown more heavy handed with moralistic allusion with each film. His latest, That time in 1609 when Moist N' Shirtless Colin Farrell And Pokemon the Injun Princess fell all the way In L-U-V, which I saw tonight, is no exception. I liked it. I like being wapped with a feel bad paddle, shamed to be living richly in the land of those natural born pilagers--pox-ridden Jamestown settlers. I felt joy when those honkies got arrows through their hearts.

All those shots of the rain and people rolling in the grass are strong enough to get you drunk, persuasive and as manipulative as anything Von Trier gets accused of. Except Von Trier would make us feel much worse about those lingering shots of young Pochahontas' svelte form, Malick tricks us into some idea that appreciating her beauty is like appreciating the beauty of the reedy shore, which we are also treated many long, dallying shots of. I mean, sure, it is, but this is America 2006 and we know better about tits taking up an entire movie screen is about. Alas, New World was 80% people walking slow in the forest feeling romantic. I take no issue with that, especially when it comes as a 2 hour distraction midwinter, as the sidewalks outside my hour are crusted with ice and dogshit and trash from the last thaw.

Also, earlier today, when I told my dad I feel winter settling in, when the season seems perdurable and tomby come grey afternoon, he suggested a little something I will also share with you, as I feel it's fatherly advice that is good for all ages: Knife-throwing. My dad reminded me, there is nothing as satisfying as when the knife sticks right so. Summer of 4th grade, El Paso TX, my dad drew a target on some shit wood and hewed it to some out building and taught me how to throw knives. You can also lean up some double thick card board and do this, in a basement or on your porch. It's better if no people or animals are around til you know what yr doing, but it feels much more primal than darts. It feels like a real skill, strange and practical--like yr ready for the apocolypse.

PS> The pict of local rapsation, Kanye, on the cover of RS--they went super OTT on the make up. Looks like he got attacked by a wolverine, no? Tore up!

Posted by Jessica at January 26, 2006 01:55 AM | TrackBack