"Jurassic World" Film Review

   When it comes to remakes and reboots in Hollywood, between being a hit or a miss, the movie released is more-often-than-not a miss. So I did have some reservations going into this movie because I hoped it wouldn't be just another corporate cashgrab. But as it turns out, I was pleasantly taken off-guard, because this movie turned out to be surprisingly good. 

   It was comforting to know that Steven Spielberg was onboard with this project from the start even if he didn't direct it, because there was evidence in the film that the cast and crew members understood how fans of the original movie wanted this film to avoid steamrolling Jurassic Park completely or otherwise insult the franchise (especially considering that the other two sequels kind of did that already). The good thing is that this film was able to balance the new material with interesting homages to the first film. Obviously since it's taking place over 20 years after the first movie, Jurassic World has to have its own new identity, but thankfully it does it with enough respect to the original material, and it acts as if it's coexisting with the first film rather than attempting to replace it or somehow "fix" it. And while it was bursting with references to Jurassic Park, the homages came off as entertaining rather than obnoxious or inappropriate, both of which I have witnessed in other films that didn't know how to work with their material quite as well as this one does. 

   With regards to the performances, I believe that for the most part, the actors did a sufficient job. Now, I say sufficient and not amazing because we have seen these characters before: Bryce Dallas Howard is the typical working woman who cares more about her job than her family, Chris Pratt is the rugged  white guy who runs around saving everyone and making sharp comebacks, the older brother is sullen and largely annoyed by his younger brother until the threat of death brings them together, and the younger brother is the innocent kid who is somewhat bullied by the older brother until they learn to work together in the face of danger. And this was a minor problem I had with this movie, especially considering that they're always shoving these cardboard character cutouts in the face of the audience by shoehorning a bunch of exposition. For example, at the moment where Bryce Dallas Howard first goes to speak to Christ Pratt, when she arrives, he is not only fixing his motorcycle, but his response to her first few lines of dialogue are, "Should we continue the conversation here, or…in my bungalow?" And as is typical of her type of character, Bryce Dallas Howard gets mildly irritated and stands with her arms crossed over her perfectly white lab coat and polished high heels. This tone of course carries into the rest of the movie, as it's implied that they had a past relationship but now they have to overcome their differences to work together and save Howard's nephews. And with regards to the boys, they did an alright job. I mean they are child actors so I won't judge them too harshly, but I will say that there were moments between them that felt kind of forced. Like, the point in the movie where the younger brother is running around the park having fun and then for no reason it cuts to him crying next to his brother about how he doesn't want their parents to get a divorce. While I'm not abhorred to the idea of a "parent-divorce" subplot to add some conflict between the brothers (even though it's been done in almost every movie involving children ever), I still think it could've been worked into the narrative in a way that wouldn't have felt so uneven. This is especially considering the fact that the movie had already established Bryce Dallas Howard's character, so that should've created enough conflict between her and her nephews, but I guess the writers felt like throwing in one more character arc just in case they felt they weren't being thorough enough, even if they already had the conflict with regards to the boys being chased and attacked by dinosaurs. 

   But I kind of excused the human characters because in all reality, they are not why people come to see this movie: they come for the dinosaurs. I did think that the concept of a hybrid dinosaur was a smart idea for the story, especially considering that it builds off of the concept of genetic manipulation that we saw in the first movie, but updates it for modern audiences by taking it to the next level. With regards to the design of the new T-Rex, I was only disappointed with how they revealed the new dinosaur in some of the trailers instead of waiting for everyone to be surprised when they saw it in theaters. However, I guess it doesn't make a difference considering that this movie has now broken the record for the biggest opening ever. And in hindsight, this movie really does try its hardest to cater to the fans, which I can respect, and it makes the film more enjoyable. A lot of dinosaurs from the first film showed their faces, but I still think that the unexpected appearance of one dinosaur in particular towards the end of the movie really made the entire film worth watching. I'm not going to explicitly reveal why this moment was probably the best moment of the entire movie, but let me just say that it had my inner Jurassic Park fan squealing pretty hard. They did build up to this moment pretty efficiently and I believe that it made really the impact the filmmakers intended. I did like the pacing of the film, since they were smart enough to keep the action going, and to be honest there weren't too many dull moments. Sure, some of the parts dedicated to clunky character exposition felt a little forced, but not enough to drag down the entire film. Overall it was a lot of fun and it's certainly a decent film to check out. 

Overall rating: 8/10 

"Generation Um" Movie Review

     You know, it's movies like these that remind me why some people hate Keanu Reeves. I, for one, do not; on the contrary, I am usually the one defending him. I thought he was decent in The Matrix, Bill And Ted's Excellent Adventure, and Speed, and now John Wick has appeared to be an attempt to revive his somewhat-laughable filmography. But this film, on the other hand….well, I don't even know if I can call it a film. 

    I will be honest that, much like Dream House, I did not finish watching this turd. The biggest problem it had was this: nothing happens. That is literally the jist of it. I am not saying this because I am trying to be overdramatic in how bad and boring this film is, I am saying it because nothing fucking happens. For an entire hour and a half. Honest to God, nothing. There is no story, there is no character development of any of the people on screen. I couldn't even determine what the main conflict was. The only exposition given at all was that Keanu Reeves drives these two girls home after spending a night drinking with them. They stumble into their apartment, while he goes into his. They crack half-assed jokes while hungover. He feeds his cat. They crack more jokes. He takes a nap, then he wakes up again. The girls drink more. Keanu eats a sandwich.
   Bored yet? Because this, ladies and gentlemen, is the first thirty minutes of the movie. Obviously, it fails to do what all movies must (within the first ten minutes, to be correct): deliver actual exposition, and determine a fucking story! Honestly, where was the story? I had to look it up on Wikipedia to even get a grip on where this film was going, and even the description just said something along the lines of, "a few individuals learn new things about themselves". Yeah, that really narrows it down, right? It's not like this sort of thing happens in every single movie ever made or anything. This blurb is really just a basic dictionary description for the word "story". The problem, however, is that the movie should not be a definition for the word "story", but be an actual goddamn story. Don't tell me what the word means: tell me what it actually is! And this movie does no such thing. It was so pretentious in its delivery that it's as if it was a crappy inside joke written by a sleep-deprived and underpaid intern who later committed suicide after finishing this potato of a screenplay. And by the way, what did the screenplay for this film even look like? I can only guess it was one hundred and twenty pages that were largely blank, save for descriptions of what an average New Yorker would be doing on any given morning. Nothing special or interesting about any of it. Honestly; is this a real movie, or did someone leave the camera on as the actors were taking a break from filming another movie? We aren't given the chance or the resources to care, and quite frankly, we don't want to. I forced myself through thirty minutes of this before turning it off and nowhere in those thirty minutes did I give one ounce of a shit. There is literally nothing about this film that is compelling or intellectually stimulatin,g and quite frankly I think I lost a few brain cells while watching it.
   I believe this review would've been more well-rounded if the film actually possessed a story I could pick apart and analyze appropriately, but it just isn't there. I'm tired of these types of movies where nothing happens. I'm tired of watching a bunch of morose characters that mope around and do jack shit for two hours just to have the director pass it off as "art" simply because it's "edgy" in that they aren't emotionally developed. And for God's sake, I can't believe I sat through a full ten minutes of Keanu Reeves doing nothing except eating a fucking cupcake.
   There is a way to make this "type" of emotionally-repressed art, but other individuals have done it way, way better. Honestly, this movie would have worked if it was marketed as a mockumentary-style presentation of the "Sad Keanu" meme. If you want to waste brain cells more efficiently, please do me a favor and bash your head into the nearest wall several hundred times while listening to Nicki Minaj. Don't waste your time: skip this mess.

   Overall rating: 2.5/10

Artist Spotlight: Hunter S. Thompson

     Hunter S. Thompson is not exactly an individual that comes to mind when we are asked to consider Classical/Parisian Bohemianism. Sure, he wasn't a member of the Algonquin Round Table, or busy taking pictures of Kiki de Montparnasse, but if we were to compile a list of the American Bohemians of the post-WWII era, Thompson would most definitely be on the list, probably next to Jack Kerouac and Allen Ginsberg. 

   Thompson was born in Kentucky to a middle-class family. While still young, the death of his father forced the family to endure poverty, and Thompson was unable to finish highschool. After joining the Air Force, he then turned to journalism (immediately following his subsequent "honorable discharge" from the military). Initially working in Pennslyvania, he then moved to NYC and became a copy boy for Time magazine. Thompson also got into the habit of copying works such as The Great Gatsby and A Farewell To Arms to properly dissect famous styles of writing. After being fired from a job in Middletown, NY (Thompson 139), he moved to Puerto Rico, but the newspaper then folded and he moved back to the States. It was during his time traveling the Southwestern U.S that he published pieces in Rogue magazine and became immersed in the Bohemian culture in Big Sur, California. He also published several novels, including The Rum Diary, and several short stories while in California.   

    His longtime girlfriend Sandra Dawn Conklin soon joined him during a stint in Rio, and they were married an had one son before divorcing after losing five more children. Thompson relocated to Idaho, then San Francisco, where he became caught up in the hippie drug culture. After living (and having a fallout) with the motorcycle group Hell's Angels, Thompson continued to report on the hippies, the convictions of the New Left (Thompson himself was an ardent Socialist and anti-Nixon), and the artistry of the Beat generation. In the 1970's, Thompson settled in Aspen, Colorado and became the pioneer of gonzo journalism (Martin). While in Las Vegas to cover the Mint 400 motorcycle race, a subsequent book called Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas was published, which became Thompson's most famous work and exposed the apparent failure of the 1960's counterculture movement (Woods). The book was further popularized with the release of the film Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas in 1998, starring Thompson's close friend Johnny Depp. 

    After a failed journalism-based trip to Africa and his descent into fiercely criticizing President Nixon, Thompson's work began to suffer, combined with disorganized assignments with Rolling Stone that strained his relationship with the magazine. In the early 2000's, he wrote a short column for ESPN until he died in 2005. His death was a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head. Thompson's private funeral was attended by family and close friends, including Johnny Depp, who shot Thompson's ashes out of a cannon atop a tower with a two-thumbed fist as fireworks exploded and "Spirit In The Sky" played in the background ("Hunter Thompson"). Since his death, Thompson's off-the-wall persona and pioneering of Gonzo journalism have continued to inspire legions of writers. 

     

Sources:

Thompson, Hunter (1998). Douglas Brinkley, ed. The Proud Highway: Saga of a Desperate Southern Gentleman (1st ed.). Ballantine Books.

Martin, Douglas (March 16, 2006). "Bill Cardoso, 68, Editor Who Coined 'Gonzo', Is Dead". The New York Times. Retrieved August 3, 2012.

Woods, Crawford (July 23, 1972). "'Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas'". The New York Times. Retrieved August 3, 2012.

"Hunter Thompson Blown Sky High". Billboard.com. Retrieved July 30, 2010.

"Kill Bill" Film Review

   In terms of which director is a sure choice for ensuring a stylized, two-hour ass-kicking entertainment firebomb, Quentin Tarantino usually takes that spot. And Kill Bill (Vol. 1 and 2) certainly proves this. Having heard about the rave reviews over the years about how amazing these films were, I was excited to check them out, and was most certainly far from disappointed.

   If you didn't already know, Tarantino writes and portray his characters extremely well in all of his films. He is perhaps one of the few directors that is virtually incapable of creating a protagonist that isn't well-rounded and dynamic. Now, they aren't exactly heroes by the classic standards (I mean, with all the violence in Pulp Fiction it isn't exactly easy to compare Vincent and Jules to Superman), but this has the effect of humanizing them and making their respective films far more enjoyable. In this case, I felt that Uma Thurman's portrayal of Beatrix Kiddo was well-done, and she had more than enough strength to carry the entire story. The story itself is fairly simple: Kiddo, AKA the Black Mamba, once worked for one of the deadliest assassin squads in the world, but left after she became pregnant and chose to be married. However, at the wedding, Bill, the leader of the Deadly Viper Assassin Squad, massacres the wedding guests and tries to kill Kiddo, who survives and vows revenge upon Bill and the entire squad. Standing in her way are other members of the squad (which includes Lucy Liu and Vivica Fox) and Bill's associates, all of whom she plans to mow down on her way to take out her former employer. 

   So, basically, it's a revenge story. Is it relatively simple? Absolutely. But uninteresting? Far from it. The story flows in a logical sequence, and the action and characters definitely keep it moving. It has a few slow moments, but this actually helped to balance out the more dramatic sequences, as building the film entirely on the action would have worn out the audience far too fast in this case. The fight sequences are insane, despite how the blood and gore can get a little over-the-top, but that really just adds to the feel of the movie. You can tell that the production devoted a lot of time to the cinematography as well as the fight choreography, which makes the film more well-rounded and detailed and also creates a more immersive atmosphere for the audience. I was having an absolute blast watching this all play out on screen. 

   I liked that even though the film prides itself on having strong female characters, it doesn't rub it in your face too much or try to beat you over the head with a message of "please acknowledge the fact that we have strong female characters and are therefore not sexist". Now, not that I would've been irritated had something like that occured, but the fact that we are able to focus on the character's actions instead of just seeing them as symbols for breaking social boundaries is really what makes the movie enjoyable. I admire the fact that Tarantino writes his characters as characters and doesn't just manipulate certain traits like gender to try and please a particular audience. It was nice that I was able to focus on Beatrix Kiddo as just being a strong character rather than thinking of her as empowering simply because she's a woman. There are certain movies and other forms of entertainment that force their strong female characters to constantly face conflict that relates to the basic fact that they are female, and while sometimes this conflict can be justified, a lot of times it feels incredibly forced and unconvincing. And this may actually have the effect of ironically promoting the film as being sexist. So it was refreshing to see that this film didn't really focus on the gender issues too much, and only brought it up when necessary. The characters are not separated or promoted as "strong men" and "strong women" but simply strong characters as a whole. I feel this is how we should see characters in film, and appreciate that Tarantino is able to do this well in the majority of his films. All in all I really liked how character-driven the film was, I appreciated the performances, the cinematography was enjoyable, and the flow of the narrative really tied it all together. Definitely one of the more entertaining films I have seen recently, and it's certainly a ride I will be taking again. 

Overall rating: 9/10 

Insomnia Poetry

Yes, I can't sleep.

To anyone who is reading, here's a poem or two:

1. How I am beaten down by the darkness in your eyes. 

       I request that you hide them, and spare the stars.

       She, in celestial exile, who bathes in the tears of a half-crazed moon. 

2. Who comes to hear the song of souls?

       Alas, those brought to die

       Shall carry their opinions, bold 

       Foretold the screaming sky 

Update: No-Shave Comes To An End

Just posting as a way to show that I did go 87 full days without shaving. Most of the semester, I guess, but I wish I could've gone on for longer. However, with tank top season underway I realized that I didn't want to scare everyone.

Now my armpits feel naked….LOL.

A Commentary On Self-Harm…And How To Combat It

   Okay, allow me to come clean here: I casually mentioned in another post that I was dealing with a lot of emotional baggage not-too-long-ago, and as a result I entered the scary world of self-harm. As you may have guessed, it was far from fun. But there was much more to it than people will probably believe. So I am here to dispel the rumors about this condition, and instead try to end the stigma. 

   As a kid, I had a tough time fitting in at my Catholic school. I was bullied for nine years straight, and I was also frequently teased by my family while going through a bit of verbal abuse by my parents, though it did quiet down by the time I was about seven. This was all compounded by the fact that I was attempting to hide my lapse from the Christian faith, as well as attempting to deal with my sexuality while also trying to punish myself for it because I had been told it was wrong. I went through many years of depression, but never recognized it as such until I was older, simply because there were some people who didn't want to deal with this and simply told me to "get over it". As a result, I felt alone, and ignored, and ashamed of myself. I feel that the worst part of the experience was how I fell in love with another girl in my class (secretly, of course), who later committed suicide. It hit me hard, but I could never explain to others specifically why it was so painful, because I had been keeping my true self under wraps for so long that I was denying who I was. As a result, I stayed quiet. And for a while, I was able to suppress this pain long enough to have a decent experience in high school. But for some reason, all of that pain resurfaced in college, which led me to seek a more desperate way of dealing with it. 

   The first time I cut was out of morbid curiosity, when I was about twelve. I had heard of kids who cut, and was fascinated by how they could bring themselves to do it. As a result, I took out a small knife and made a tiny incision on my arm. It wasn't deep, but it did hurt a lot, and it scared me enough that I didn't think about it for a few years. But then, after leaving my hometown (for 12 hours each day, at least) to go to community college, everything changed. The bullying, the depression, the suicidal thoughts, the pain of hiding myself from the world…for some reason, the act of moving away from where it all happened, and putting myself in a position to look at it from the outside, caused all of that pain to come hit me like a ton of bricks. I was already under stress because of school and work, and now I had my past to deal with. What fun! For a while I simply subjected myself to personal mental abuse, telling myself to get over it and stop being a baby. I was reiterating what everyone else had been yelling at me for years. And of course, that only made it worse. So, eventually I used a razor to get rid of the pain. I can't remember when I started cutting for real; when you cut, as I have heard and experienced personally, you feel detached from yourself, like you aren't really there. Likewise, I didn't feel like myself when I cut, but rather a scared and vulnerable child. Her memories, and her feelings, were making those cuts. It was my nightmares all over again. 

   I discovered over time that I was cutting for several reasons. The biggest reason was primarily stress, brought on by bad memories and pain I never dealt with, along with the pressure to get perfect grades and behave. At that point, I was so on edge that it seemed like the only way to relieve the pain, coupled with how after a while, I didn't even feel it. Plus, cutting was quick and easy, and I did not feel like I had anyone to talk to about this. But cutting did bring its side effects. To put it short, I was miserable. I cried more often, and my depression worsened. Cutting did bring some of the pain to light, but I was dealing with it in such a destructive way that all of the raw emotions became worse, and I began harboring a seething hatred for the bullies, and to some degree my parents, since they sent me to the school. I also felt like they had ignored the bullying and the depression, though I realize now that this grudge was somewhat unjustified because they may have been just as scared and helpless as I was. And of course, upon realizing that I shouldn't be so angry at certain people, I felt guilty, which translated to more cuts. I was wallowing in my own misery and hated myself for it. As the red marks multiplied on my arms, I had trouble sleeping, and lost interest in everything. I felt like a zombie, unmotivated and unstimulated. As if I was just an empty shell, and nothing more. I truly felt worthless; I became jealous of others simply because of their happiness, of their friends and family and satisfaction with life. This jealousy ate away at me, too, and strained some of my relationships. 

   The biggest emotion I felt while cutting, other than guilt, was fear. This culture already holds a stigma against mental illness, and knowing this made me terrified that someone would discover my secret and immediately begin to judge me. I began wearing long sleeves all of the time, so much that my sweatshirts became worn out (I did use this to an advantage and added safety pins to make it look "punk", which added to my disguise). I listened to sad music to worsen the pain, in the hopes that it would cause a stronger purge of emotion when I cut, so I could possibly deal with it better (to this day I cannot listen to "Black Hole Sun", "Doll Parts", "Misguided Ghosts", or "Hurt" without feeling a tightness in my chest). And of course, I told no one. The only person I came close to telling verbally was my coworker. He was the only person I could think of who had no knowledge of my background, or had ever met my parents or otherwise knew anyone connected to my hometown. It was getting to the point where I had to tell someone, and I decided that he would be the one to tell. So I wrote him a letter, explaining what had happened and why I was so quiet, and how when I wasn't quiet I was constantly making jokes, and why. I had to keep up a persona so that nobody would suspect anything was wrong. I mean, okay, people regularly pointed out how weird and quiet I was, but I knew they would never suspect self-harm. While it is a known fact, we never suspect that our friends and family are doing it. We always assume that bad things will happen to someone else, which is why a stigma against mental health still exists. 

   I did finally stop cutting around March. I realized how much my connection to my Christian faith and the painful memories it evoked was giving me stress and anxiety, so I knew it needed to go. The transition was rocky, but upon discovering the positives of paganism, I began to heal. I focused on forgiveness and trying to accept myself for who I really was: a bisexual Wiccan. I came to the conclusion that I had to accept my true self before I went over the edge, and I am thankful that I found the strength. At the time that I am writing this, I have gone 59 days without cutting, and I am doing much better. I have accepted that I went through a painful period in my life, and can now choose to talk through it instead of repressing emotions until I hurt myself. I am now proud of who I am, and am ready to move on through life as a mature adult. 

   So since this is being written before my coworker reads my confession (I told him not to open it for another week), while I remain terrified over how he will react, I am here to offer some advice and help end the stigma. Here is what I want to say to anyone who has self-harmed, is self-harming, or is thinking of doing so: 

1. Try to identify the reasons why you are doing this to yourself. Cutting, for me, brought up the fact that I had a lot of emotional issues to deal with, and acted as a wake-up call for my mental health. After a while, I recognized that it became almost like a drug, to the point where it was just routine and I couldn't seem to stop myself. So the next time you think of picking up the razor blade, ask yourself if your friends or family would want you to do this. Debate if physically harming yourself will really make your problems go away. I can assure you that they won't; in fact, cutting might just make them worse. Recognize this fact, and seek out help. 

2. Write out your feelings. I wrote in my journal a lot while I was cutting. I flip through it now, and I'll admit it's scary, but it also shows that I pulled myself out of a hole that I desperately needed to leave. When I wrote down my feelings, I discovered new things about myself, and realized things that I needed to accept about myself as well. As a result, I was no longer in the dark, and I started to wean myself off of self-harm. 

3. Find constructive ways to deal with stress. This relates to the point above. Write, read a book, listen to music (somewhat-positive music, I hope), exercise, hang out with your friends, play with your cat or dog. Releasing your energy doesn't and shouldn't have to involve hurting yourself. Digging yourself into a deeper pit of depression will not help you, only hurt you. Avoid the razor and focus on other stress-management activities. 

4. Remember you are not alone. Tons of people go through these types of emotions in their lives, though not everyone self-harms. You should not be ashamed over having inexplicable feelings of guilt, hopelessness, anxiety, or anger. We are human, we often feel things that we can't explain. And that's 100% fine. There are thousands of online and personal resources to help you. Some tips are listed here if you are interested: http://www.helpguide.org/articles/anxiety/cutting-and-self-harm.htm. Understand that you are not the first or last person to come down this road and that with a little support, it will get better. 

5. But if you still don't want to talk about it, that's fine too. Obviously this is something very difficult to talk about. Help doesn't have to mean speaking directly to a friend or family member; you are dealing with some very raw pain, and not everyone will react to this in a positive way. You could deal with your pain by doing any of the activities I listed, or even just find a person you trust and say, "Could I talk to you about something?" You are probably terrified, but listen: it is better that you recognize these emotions and learn to deal with them instead of having them escalate into something worse because you were trying to suppress them. Trying to avoid them will only make them worse, so when you are ready, I recommend that you confront them head-on and find solutions. 

Writing this has helped me a lot. If you know anyone who has also gone through this, please share. Let's start the conversation and end the stigma. 

Thanks,

The Gothic Bohemian