Baseball, philosophy, video games, snarky anti-Bush rants, and all other various and sundry topics. Not necessarily in that order.

Monday, January 02, 2006

Slouching towards the big, slushy median

I can scarcely believe what a fucking great movie Closer is. I watched it before this, with some friends, on my old tv. It was a great experience, and I enjoyed it, and thought it was great.

This evening, I popped it in, on my new, less spectacular TV, in my new, less spectacular apartment. I was just thinking "gee, I'll just watch a few minutes." Wanted to see what it looked like on my new set. Then whoops, the whole movie's gone by. Unbelievable.

It's probably fashionable to say it's the writing, and of course the writing is brilliant. It was adapted from a play IIRC, which shows in the production - almost all of the dialogue is contained in the 4 main characters. Which is fine. Epic movies are all well and good, but I think Hollywood hasforgotten how to write dialogue. Really good, crackling, terrific dialogue. Of which Closer is essentially one long string from beginning to end.

But equally brilliant is the acting. It's easy to dismiss Natalie Portman, saying "she plays the same role in every movie." But hey, really look at her performance. It is real. It rings true. She emotes the hell out of her role. Julia Roberts really opened my eyes, too. Jude Law can't be dismissed as a pretty boy, though I think his is the weakest of the four performances. It can be difficult to believe him as an intellectual. But he's still quite good. Clive Owen "chews the scenery," as they say. He is the uber-male here, and it rings true.

Wow. What can I say. Writing to be emulated. Good looking film, well shot, with good music, too. Why don't more movies like this get made? I guess the market dictates it. And apparently the market is made up of daft poltroons who want their plots simple and their theaters loud and blasting with arctic cold A/C.

Hopefully DVD or whatever digital distribution model takes its place will keep a market alive for films with brains. Books, too. Sigh. The plight of the intellectual or even just the person of refined tastes, in a society that elevates nincompoopery to the status of the highest goods, and relegates anyone with a glimmer of insight to the fringes, whather in high school, the workplace, media, politics, whatever.

Should I end every entry in this blog from now on with "fucking assholes, they deserve what they've gotten?"

Maybe so.


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