Majd írok az elmúlt napokról is, de most inkább a virtuális papíromra Bruce Willisről írt gondolataimat karcolom le. Azt már megszokhatta az ember, hogy a Die Hard 1-2-3 során John McClane trikóban, zokni nélkül, cigivel a szájában és egy Berettával a kezében megmenti a világot.

De ez a negyedik rész eléggé érdekes lett. Fura a magyar, mert ha valamiről nem tudja eldönteni, hogy jó vagy rossz érdekesnek mondja. Még akkor is ha inkább rossz mint jó.

Elvégre itt már nem káromkodik, nem cigizik, nincs meg a haja. Korábban mindig volt pár zilált hajszála. Nem dobja ki a diszkószőrt (mellszőr). Nincs felesége. Többet kibír mint egy fele annyi idős ember mint ő. Nem égeti meg a repülőgép hajtóműje.

Valamint az is kiderül ebből is mint bármelyik amcsi filmből, hogy minden amerikai tud helikoptert és kamiont vezetni. Ja és Bruce Willis… bocsánat… John McClane alatt a kamion akkor sem borul fel ha dől a vas és ő rossz irányba tekeri a kormányt.

Ráadásul ezek a fura észrevételek csak az utolsó 20 perc megtekintése közben merültek fel. Mi lenne ha ismét megnézném a teljes filmet és oda is figyelnék rá. Ráadásul jobb mint Rambo, mert az csak összevarrta a sebét, de Johnny fiú lelövi saját magát. Tökösebb mint a poénos Chuck Norris.

A negyedik filmet kihagyhatta volna. Olyan mintha az első három rész során felépített szobrát pisálta volna le. Ennél jobbat is tud ha akar. De a mai moziba látvány kell, cicik, vér vagy lövöldözés. Cicik nem voltak, de a többi megvolt. Csak sajnos nem ettől lesz jó egy film.

So, I caught a free screening of Pirate Radio last night (today is its opening day in the states). I don’t want to dishearten Richard Curtis fans who treasure Four Weddings and a Funeral and Love Actually (neither of which I’ve seen), but he dropped a big bloody bollock with this movie (known as The Boat That Rocked in the UK).

How can that be, you ask? It’s about a British pirate radio station during the mid-1960s. Its soundtrack boasts choice cuts from the British Invasion. And it’s got a charming cast. How can a movie be bad when it has Philip Seymour Hoffman and Bill Nighy and Nick Frost and Rhys Ifans and Rhys Darby and cast members from The IT Crowd, along with cameos from Emma Thompson and January Jones? Kenneth Branagh even goes all campy villain on us as the station’s bureaucratic nemesis (see also Wild Wild West, a terrible movie where he chews some scenery as the bad guy). That sounds great on paper. Even if it’s saddled with boomer era clichés about free love and rock music changing the world, it’s gotta be fun, right? Who doesn’t want to run a pirate radio station on a boat with these folks?

There’s so much wrong with this hack job of a movie. There’s a lot left unexplained. How did this ragtag group get a boat? Why is rock music illegal to broadcast in 1960s Great Britain? How are these radio personalities so famous? There’s also lots of truncated plot points and weird tonal shifts and nonsensical character motivations which I don’t think would have been aided by the original cut’s three-hour running time. The protagonist is a bloke named Carl (played by Tom Sturridge) who may or may not have been put on the boat by his mother to meet his dad, but I’m too bored to care. And that’s saying something, as his dad is played by Ralph Brown, who was Danny the Dealer in Withnail and I.

I’d also mention that it’s kinda disheartening to see Hoffman — who plays a crusty American deejay named the Count — spout rockist catchphrases like “a whop bam boo” and “young men and young women will always dream dreams and put those dreams into song” with stealy-eyed import. But it’s also kinda amazing. A lesser actor couldn’t pull it off. But Hoffman makes Count’s turn of phrase sound like some kind of rock deejay John McClane. Oh, and he almost drowns when the boat sinks. Except he doesn’t and emerges victoriously (and ridiculously) from the North Sea. Such is the power of rock. 

But I think you know what my big problem is. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the roles for women and girls are marginal and insultingly one-dimensional. While I think there may have been an effort to keep their presence ornmanental so as to make a commentary on the era’s regressive attitude toward gender and sexual politics, I think the movie exacerbates the problem rather than rectify it.

There are groovy birds (re: prostitutes, groupies, and moms) who board the ship to “service” the talent, sometimes pretending to love one crew member to get closer to another and wounding their pride. Awesome. 

There’s one woman in the crew — a lesbian named Felicity (played by Katherine Parkinson) who basically serves as the ship’s put-upon housewife. She does get a girlfriend, but this is given for too obvious, peripheral treatment to seem as real progress.

There are no musicians, except for women like Dusty Springfield, Skeeter Davis, and Sandy Shaw who function as playlist selections.

There are also huddles of simpering female fans who listen attentively to the radio — students, flight attendants, secretaries, cleaning ladies, mothers, wives, single women, waitresses, and shopgirls. None of them speak, though many giggle. They also lack names. Oh, correction. Kenneth Branaugh’s secretary Miss C (played by Sinead Matthews) sort of gets one.

Anyway, this sucks, and a likeable cast can’t salvage its suckitude. So I suggest instead of seeing this movie that you watch Jane Campion’s A Girl’s Own Story instead. Here’s a scene. Wish I could post the whole thing.

Made in 1984 and available on the Criterion Collection edition of Campion’s debut feature, Sweetie, this short focuses on a group of Australian schoolgirls who came of age during Beatlemania. It showcases the complex relationships girls have with their fandom, along with their homosocial friendships and burgeoning sexuality. It’s pretty awesome, and actually suggests what it may have been like to be a teenaged girl during rock’s golden era. Pirate Radio couldn’t be bothered.

Timothy Olyphant

Have you seen “The Girl Next Door” ? It is a fun comedy: a teenager (Emile Hirsch) falls in love with the girl next door (Elisha Cuthbert). The problem is she’s a porn star and her producer Kelly (Timothy Olyphant) doesn’t have any plans of letting her live a cute fantasy with her boyfriend. It’s a funny, harmless little movie and this is the first movie I have ever seen Timothy Olyphant in. The thing is I just thought Kelly was a nuisance and a morally corrupt character and didn’t think much of him. It wasn’t a difficult role. And I didn’t even find him remotely attractive.

Timothy Olyphant in The Girl Next Door

And I completely forgot about him. Then I saw Catch and Release.

CATCH AND RELEASE (2006)

Timothy Olyphant and Jennifer Garner in Catch and Release

I actually didn’t even recognize him. He didn’t look that different and it wasn’t like he had a wild change with his image. But this role was completely different.

Gray is barely hanging on. Her fiancé has just died, she is broke and his friends are basically are all she’s got. So she moves in with Dennis and Sam. And Fritz is sticking around for some reason, though he seems to be getting on everybody’s nerves. Gray has accidentally witnessed Fritz having sex at the funeral and she has been mad at him ever since. But as time passes, Gray discovers some truths about her dead fiancé and realizes that maybe he wasn’t as great as he thought he was. First she finds out he has a secret account she never knew about and has been regularly sending money to a person- and then she learns that person is the mother of his child. To make matter worse, he has been cheating on her. While Sam is lost in his own depression and Dennis seems way too considerate for a friend, it is Fritz that helps her cope with these new facts and helps her have fun. Fritz may not be perfect, but he is not the jerk she thought he was.

Timothy Olyphant as Fritz

The minute you see Fritz, you just want Gray to get over her fiancé’s death and her hatred for Fritz soon and well, hang out with Fritz so that he will have much screen time. He is good-looking, fun and whatever stupid things he might have done, it is not that easy to judge him since he has lost a close friend and everybody has a different way of coping. And you want her to stop mourning when you realize the guy was a tw0-timing liar and had been with another woman for years without her knowing it. And the more you know Fritz, the more like him. He is fun, sweet and well gorgeous. So it is weird falling for your fiancés friend and him falling for you, but it is a fun,emotional film. It is not original but then I don’t think it ever tried to be. It is also a question of how well we really know the people we think we know really well.

Below is the link to one of my favorite scenes. Gray has just found out that her fiancés kid is much younger than Fritz initially told him,which means he had been cheating on her for years. Fritz was just trying to soften the blow on her. Now, she is very mad at her fiancé- which is good, so she doesn’t really feel guilty about Fritz. The scene also happens to be one of the best kisses in a movie. Impulsive and passionate, and still managing to be gentle:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K9lt4v04FTA&feature=related

DEADWOOD (2004-2006)

Timothy Olyphant as Seth Bullock in Deadwood

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=guxNtlktMbU&feature=related

It’s a western/drama/thriller and Timothy Olyphant is one of the leads. If you have seen Deadwood after Catch and Release, it is a lot more surprising to see Timothy go all wild west on his audience. As Fritz, he was an advertising hotshot with a place in Malibu. Here, he is a much more complicated character as the Sheriff. He is not nearly as composed, and as a modern man for his time, he seems to have a hard time excepting the horrifying level of crime and violence going on in the town. He has 0 tolerance for betrayal and he prefers speaking his mind to acting diplomatically. The show has two seasons and it is highly rated.

The movie also uses a very free language, meaning: brace yourself for some R-rated dialogue. Note that one of the characters’ names is Swearengen and it is not a coincidence.

Live free or Die Hard

Timothy Olyphant as the villain in Live Free or Die Hard

There are two impressive things about Timothy, one about his looks and one about his acting. Now, Timothy is normally a young-looking actor. In Catch and Release, I just couldn’t believe he was 37! However a year later, he plays the villain in the 4th movie of the Die Hard series and he suddenly looks seasoned. He didn’t age overnight,of course. He is just really good at adapting to his role. He had to be a guy who seeked vengeance for what felt like wrong doing on his part and he just takes this revenge thing on everyone. It just wouldn’t look convincing if he looked like a man fresh out of college; his nemesis is Bruce Willis, for god’s sake! However, Tim’s character is one of the coolest, most cold-blooded villains seen on screen- and he brought the role facial expressions I had never seen him do before. I don’t know a lot of actors who can do that. Yes, there are a lot of good actors but their expressions/way of acting don’t really differ that much or cease surprising you at one point. The last time I was pleasantly surprised like this was by Robert De Niro’s performance in Stardust- I have seen his 3 decades of movies and it was the first time a role of his and his portrayal surprised me.

It is not just Tim’s performance though. Live Free or Die Hard is a solid action movie. It sure includes some physically impossible stuff but hey it is John McClane we are talking about, it is expected. The explosions and chasing and plotting are great. The villain is not just muscles, but brains- who doesn’t mind getting his hands dirty/bloody when he needs to. His smooth delivery and coolness make an impressive, chilly effect.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=khwHUyt-CYQ&feature=related is the trailer.

HITMAN (2007)

Timothy Olyphant as Agent 47 in Hitman

Hitman is based on a very popular computer game. Agent 47 has been raised as a kid to be the perfect assassin. No emotions, no complications. Just get the mission, get it done, and get out. An impressive bank balance, no conscience and no emotions. He can get himself out of any danger and you seriously do not want to mess with him. However some people do, and things go awry. After all, the people who “programmed” him have forgotten that no matter how “mechanic” they trained him to be, he is still human. He is also surprised to see he has some feelings he can’t define, which starts after meeting his female target: a Russian hooker (Olga Kurylenko), whose political figure boyfriend might very well involved in the conspiracy.

I actually laughed when some people commented that Timothy’s acting was flat. Did they pay attention to anything going on in the movie? 47 was raised to show and feel no signs of emotion. He is based on a computer character. He is supposed to be flat. But later with the Russian girl, he starts to feel a variety of mixed emotions and he portrays the different levels of reaction perfectly. The movie is fast and it is entertaining as hell. We go to different places in the world, including Russia and Turkey with the characters. There’s lots of action- both with weaponry and fighting. There is also a subtle sense of humor and it is fun to watch Agent 47 begin to change and how he deals with himself. A scene where she’s trying to seduce him and he gives her a sedative shot to get her off him is just plain hilarious. There is also a fun nod at the computer game. I like mindless action. Bring it on!!!

Trailer for the Hitman: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jUAURAgF2Kc&feature=related

A link for one of the best scenes: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0z9EyP38SIM&feature=related

A PERFECT GETAWAY (2007)

A Perfect Getaway with Timothy Olyphant

Timothy is featured in the show Damages, but I already wrote about it. So I am gonna end the post with one of his latest movies, a thriller called A Perfect Getaway. I just got my hands on the movie and haven’t seen it yet but am quite looking forward to it. With this, Timothy is back to his familiar gorgeous look- which suits the exotic and dangerous vacation theme of the movie.

The great thing about him is that he is a very versatile actor. I could only feature some of his films here. He has had no problems playing a bisexual character falling for his gay boyfriend’s female best friend (Advice from a Caterpillar), a cold-blooded villain (Live Free or Die Hard), a highly professional killer (Hitman), a misunderstood nice guy (Catch and Release); an annoyingly slick TV reporter with no moral principles (Bill), a sheriff in the old west (Deadwood), a drug dealer (Go)….Well the list speaks for itself. It is great that he is very good-looking, and that he doesn’t show his 41 years- which gives him the opportunity to play more kinds of roles.

It is also impressive that he is married with 3 kids and that he has been married since 1991. He has been around for a while and it seems like the movie-makers seem are smart enough to take advantage of this skilled actor. Hope he gets the credit he deserves.

Timothy Olyphant, 90s. I don't really see much of a difference...

my post about Timothy in Damages: http://inthenameofmovies.wordpress.com/2009/11/02/damages-when-your-favorite-big-screen-actors-go-tv/

First of all, when I say Die Hard series, I must very carefully exclude the tech-version Die Hard 4.0 out of it; by that time Bruce Willis was really tried hard to die. This one unfortunate bit excluded, one can safely say the series is an entertainer anytime of the year. I have watched it bloody million times, and shit never gets old. Watching the three again last week, I couldn’t help but notice few similarities, some tit-bits that appeared in more than one movie; a couple even in all three. Trying to list them here!

10. Give Nobel Prize to Bruce Willis for trying so hard to bring to the table inter-racial love
In all the three movies, Willis is shown getting the most support from some black guy or the other. Die Hard had Sergeant Al Powell helping him and giving him all his support while the police chief on scene was more than eager to chew off his ass. Die Hard 2 had Airport Engineer Leslie Barnes at his assistance when he was put at bay by all others, and Die Hard 3 had none other than Samuel Jackson himself helping him as Zeus.
Don’t think of me as a racist or anything; I don’t hold any shit against the brothers but my question is the guys couldn’t find a white sidekick or what?

9. Bruce Willis – the cheapster!
Don’t get me wrong Bruce, I love your name (The social identity of Batman is Bruce Wayne. Batman – big fan!); but if you gotta smoke, don’t you think you should keep with yourself a packet or two. I mean borrowing from colleagues (Die Hard 3) is one thing, but from dead guys (the terrorist on the 32nd floor in Die Hard) – now thats low even for you man!

8. Richard Thornburg, or as Mrs McClane refers to him – Dick!
Will somebody please go and try finding out some inside-the-dark-closet connection between Bruce Willis and William Atherton (Richard, the reporter – Die Hard and Die Hard 2). I mean, all reporters are basically like that, isn’t it? They smell some story, and they just have to pounce on it. So what was so special about Dick that you couldn’t resist taking him in the sequel. I, for one, wouldn’t mind had it been some hot chick in that plane, getting rolled over everyday had it hit any turbulence. Just in case, thats all I’m saying.

7. Getting backstabbed is getting in our nature now, aint it?
I mean, come on Bruce. Shouldn’t you be little bit more careful about whom you trust with your life and all that. Why is it that you always get hit when you’re not looking. Die Hard – handing Hans Gruber a gun; fine the gun was empty and all, but if you were really suspicious wouldn’t it have occured to you that he could be having a fine gun of his own, not to mention goons at his disposal. Die Hard 2 – just repeated the mistake, isn’t it? You trusted Major Grant, I mean the man had worked with Coln. Stuart for god’s sake. Wouldn’t they be the first ones sharing a bed together while you could have just easily landed up in an unmarked grave? [By the way, sure we all (the audience) failed to see it coming too; but then we were not there saving the day.]

6. Peek-a-boo from the top of elevators
You just couldn’t ride an elevator like the rest of civilized human race now, can you? You have got to sneak up to the roof of the elevator car, eavesdrop on conversations others are having (bad manners btw) and then crawl like a rat through the ventilation ducts. Always going for the unconventional means of commuting. [Die Hard and Die Hard 2]

5. Bruce Willis might be the new face of Santa Claus this Christmas
Love the Christmas spirit, eh? Every year round the festive season when anything goes wrong anywhere in the United States, Mr. McClane is always there to save the day and give everyone around the precious gift of life. [Die Hard and Die Hard 2. They forget to mention anything about the time of the year in the third part, but will all the fancy fireworks in the sea, I am sure it was near the 4th of July]

4. You need a face lift, or a face change if I may suggest
This was the one common thing I noticed in Die Hard and Die Hard 3 that made me wonder about the other similarities that might be present; and eventually to this post. Whenever John McClane is crossing passages, gun in hand, trying to apprehend the bad guys, too cautious in an effort to save his own ass as well, you will find his mouth opens as if he is trying to help the guys put a gun in his mouth. His face will distort just like clayface, and one single look at him, and one could easily dismiss him as a retard.

3. Mad man you are!
Even Arnold is not as fascinated with blowing up things as you are. Sometimes you just have to blow up one whole floor of a multi-storeyed building, and at other times it has to be a 747 jet full of bad asses! [Die Hard, Die Hard 2]

2. You need a shower bro
By the time any of the three movies have been over, you will find Bruce Willis covered in bloods of all kinds, his and anybody or everybody that comes passing by him. Not to mention all the fireworks he goes through everytime.

1. Magnificent
I can watch any of these three movies anytime I come across the “Die Hard Series” folder on my hard-drive!

©2009 Abhishek ANAND | All Rights Reserved

Existem algumas escolhas que são realmente infelizes. Não questiono  a competência de Eduardo Borgerth (quem sou eu para questionar alguma), mas como dito no post do trailer do filme Substitutos possivelmente não o assistirei-o dublado, simplesmente pela falta que fará a voz de Newton da Mata. Sabemos que nesses casos, quando o dublador infelizmente falece, não existe muito o que se fazer, mas colocar um ator com uma voz similar seria o mais correto. Ficou destoante demais.

Não leitor, você não precisa apenas acreditar no que digo, ou melhor escrevo. Segue abaixo as duas vozes. Qual das duas é melhor? A primeira é Newton no primeiro Mata em Duro de Matar e  a segunda é Eduardo Borgerth em Duro de Matar 4.0.

[display_podcast]

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Andreia D’Oliveira que não entende a escolha de Demi Moore: Ashton Kutcher?

Si a ustedes les gusta ver torturas al mas puro estilo Hostal, heridas como hechas por una patada voladora de John McClane o de Chancló van Damme, vean esta clavadita de tachones que Axel Witsel del Standard de Lieja al le propina al polaco Marcin Wasilewski del famoso club belga Anderletch.

No mames hasta a mi me dolio.

PD.: Ah si, por cierto, ya regresé.

Tocmai am vazut un film fantasy. O creatura miraculoasa sare de pe o creasta pe alta, trece prin foc si gheata, e ranita de nenumarate ori, dar scapa cu viata.

Pe creatura o cheama John McClane, iar pe fantasy il cheama Die Hard 4.

Sa ma explic – e fantasy deoarece, pentru ca, si mai ales FIINDCA:

- eroul principal nu se pupa cu nimeni la final.  Propun sa fie descalificat din galeria marilor filme hollywoodiene, nu se poate sa lipseasca asa ceva!

- nimeni nu apare dezbracat in film! nici un san, nici o buca, nimic! nici macar Bruce Willis la bustul gol. Ba stiu, ceva apare gol. Tot filmul (cata indecenta, dom’le!), tzeasta lui McClane e goala. Complet nuda. Coafura braziliana il prinde de minune

- armele si masinile folosite! niste arhaisme de cand bunica bunicii se juca cu ceva in tzarana. Ce pusti, ce mitraliere, ce avion de lupta! La cat de frumos s-a tinut politaiul de aripa jetplane-ului, io cred ca puteau sa-i dea cel putin o racheta spatiala sa o calareasca. Rusinica! nenea ala rau merita macar o nava spatiala!

- raufacatorul din film e un fost agent guvernamental, care la un moment dat s-a dovedit prea bine intentionat si si-a luat-o de la sefii care nu voiau sa schimbe sistemul. Acum, sa fim seriosi, exista agenti guvernamentali prea bine intentionati?

- tot raufacatorul asta, pe langa faptul ca arata al naibii de bine, e al naibii de destept, e arhi-strabunul programarii, mai vorbeste si 3 limbi straine. Nu puteau sa-i sparga un dinte, sa-i puna o cicatrice, ceva? Macar sa-i mai sifoneze hainele din cand in cand, arata al naibii de sexy in camasa+pantaloni de stofa (i know, i’m a sucker for dressy)..

- tipa rea. O stiti pe draguta aia cu schelet de Adamantium din X-Men 3? Hua, pai era mic copil pe langa tanti asta. A trecut prin 2 pereti, 3 geamuri, a cazut pe ea o biblioteca SAN de cateva sute de kile si de-abia a murit din eforturile sustinute ale unui lift+jeep care au prins-o sub ele. Asta da gagica, io zic sa i se faca o serie numai ei. Eventual sa apara si in Die Hard 5: “ha, sucker! i’m not dead YET!”

- cea mai tare masina a fost un BMW serie 5. Buey, dar asta e nesimtire clara. Nu le-a ajuns bugetul de-o Zonda Pagani sau macar de-un Mustang! Nu, ei il trimit pe John cu un Lincoln veeeechi (urata masina, da’ al naibii de confortabila daca nu e condusa de indieni ). Apai James Bond e mai tare decat John McClane? Anglia mai tare decat Scotia? Ha?

- si nici sa nu incep cu tipele… dupa ce ca nimeni nu arata nimic in tot filmul, nici nu baga la inaintare tipe sa-ti ia fatza. Pai ia uite aia cu Transformers, au pus-o pe Megan Fox sa alerge si sa chiraie un pic, si gata! Toata lumea vrea la robotei ambalati asa frumos. Cine vrea sa vada barbati chei alergand de colo colo? Propun ca Bruce sa apara in urmatorul film cu Megan Fox goala tatuata pe ceafa. Am zis!

- SOC! eroul principal nu alearga pentru tzara, ci pentru ca…. n-are cine s-o faca. Asta in prima jumatate a filmului, dup-aia apare si fie-sa, si atunci o face pentru fiica lui. Iara ala micu’ de respira greu (nu, nu era ta-sau!), ala micu’ probabil o face ca sa-i fie username-ul slavit de toate femeile de pe net, de-a pururea si in vecii vecilor, amin, slava bitzilor si porno-ului si Warlock-ului de Kevin Smith (Clerks, anyone?).

- cel mai des pronuntat cuvant este…………………… ass. Up my ass, up your ass, move your ass. Lui John ii plac fundurile, altfel nu s-ar lua atata de ele.

- la final, as zice ca a fost fantasy pentru ca… a fost mai tare decat Matrix. Da, nici mie nu-mi vine sa cred. Adica fratii Wachowsky au introdus atatea noutati pe scena efectelor speciale si a filmatului in slow-motion (Fight Club se inchina respectuos), si iote vine Die Hard si-l face praf.

Io cred ca John McClane poate face orice facea Neo. Poate sa si zboare PE coada unui avion. Citeste gandurile adversarilor, de-aia nu-l impusca nimeni (mint, a fost impuscat la final… de el insusi), are o placere sadica sa-i anunte pe-aia pe unde se plimba (“dude, sunt la etajul 3, ti-ai asezat frisca pe fund cum ti-am zis? vin sa iau o muscatura din ea!”). In caz ca nu va amintiti, Neo nu era sadic. Deci uite ce poate John si Neo nu poate. In plus, John stie ca nu are nevoie de nici o femeie, d-apai de vreo Trinitate (pentru ca John a avut o nevasta si i-a ajuns).

Mai cred ca Angelina Jolie, cand o juca pe Lara Croft si mergea la Polul Nord intr-un halatzel, avusese niste intalniri cu John, care i-a spus:

“Draga mea, io pot sa merg prin turbine de racire si nu-mi ingheata nici parul din nas, fi eroaie si zi-le ca o faci pentru fie-ta si o sa poti si tu! Cum, n-ai fiica? Bine, atunci…. zi-le asa: pentru tara si popor, eu ma arunc din tren (ca in filmul ala superb cu James McAvoy si NIN – Everyday is exactly the same)!”

S-am incalecat pe-o sa si s-a terminat cronica mea…..

posted by: pol.

Hablábamos recientemente de caracterización  (creación de personajes). A propósito de lo cual traigo aquí un caso de interés. Uejemplo brillante, pero de cuya imitación no aconsejo abusar, pues ha habido ya demasiados intentos frustrados.

El antihéroe rebelde y ocurrente

Así es John McClane, personaje inmortalizado por Bruce Willis en la saga “La jungla de Cristal” (Die Hard). Un tipo de discurso brillante y chabacano, simpático sólo para el público, siempre orgulloso y con algunos brochazos de ácido cinismo. Su frase estelar: ‘Yippe-ki-yea, mother fucker!‘ (una especie de “descanse en paz”, pero de carácter ofensivo). Esto es un personaje que -dentro de una patente planitud irreflexiva y de la más absolutra irrealidad- se muestra rico, matizado, vivo. Único. Tanto , que -aunque parezca paradójico- se ha convertido en un estereotipo.

McClane es un antihéroe: como un imán de atracción de desgracias.

Main inhalation dot, inhalation
dot. And bingo. Just once, like
a regular, normal Christmas
eggnut. Fucking Christmas tree,
little turkey. But no, I've got
to crowl down this fucking...

Y además es especialista en problemas familiares, aunque siempre de un modo caricaturesco. Como si ni a él ni a Holly, su mujer, les importara tres pimientos el hecho de que en cada película se juegan varias veces su matrimonio…

John: I don't know. Like I said: She's a really stubbornwomen.  
Zeus: Yeah, she has to be to stay married to you.
John: Ahahahah.

Y es fuente de catástrofes: McClane nunca dejará de cumplir su misión -muchas veces autoadjudicada- pero se llevará por delante edificios, aeropuertos y unos cuantos centenares de vehículos, sean de tierra, mar o aire.

McClane es rebelde: poli malo, contestón y antisistema. Discute con sus superiores, con sus enemigos, con su mujer, con sus amigos…

Zeus: My name is Zeus.  
John: Zeus?
Zeus: Yeah, Zeus. As in father of Apollo, mount Olympus, don't
fuck with me or I'll shovel a light both up your ass. Zeus. 

No es amigo de la tecnología.  Todos esos dispositivos hiper avanzados son para él como circunloquios que se oponen a la acción directa: el golpe y porrazo.

Ingenioso y ocurrente, McClane es el rey de las ideas disparatadas. La mejor es, sin duda, la de enviar a los terroristas el cadáver de uno de sus hombres, vestido de Papá Noel, con un mensaje escrito a sangre en la camiseta: Ho, ho, ho! Now I’ve got a machinegun!

Yippe-ki-yea!

Y aquí quedan los guiones de Die Hard (I), Die Harder (II) y Die Hard with a Vengeance (III).

22/04/2008 16:42:32 

Por Cristina Cople

O número quatro é cabalístico? Dá sorte? Representa alguma seita secreta? Nada disso… Esqueça a numerologia! Quatro é o número de vezes que personagens de filmes de ação, daqueles com pouco conteúdo e muitos tiros, passaram pelos cinemas de todo o mundo.

Agora, mais do que nunca, os aventureiros cinqüentões estão provando que uma boa história de ação pode sobreviver por décadas!

Rambo (Sylvester Stallone), Indiana Jones (Harrison Ford) e John McClane (Bruce Willis) ainda levam milhares de pessoas aos cinemas. Por quê? Ninguém se importa com as rugas, quando o “ator” exibe um corpo sarado, jeito charmoso e exerce atração fatal sobre as mulheres.

Rambo bem que tentou viver uma vida pacata. O veterano do Vietnã foi morar na Tailândia e trabalhar em um barco, transportando moradores de um lado a outro do rio. Porém, quando um grupo guerrilheiro seqüestra dois militantes de direitos humanos, ele não resiste à tentação e se junta a um grupo de mercenários para resgatá-los.

Os produtores aproveitam a chance de reviver o herói e capricham nas cenas de aventura e efeitos especiais. O final é previsível, mas para quem não resiste ao charme do fortão, pode também matar a curiosidade sobre os novos desafios que ele vai enfrentar, afinal, acabou a guerra fria e a ameaça comunista desapareceu. Pelo menos em tese.

O arqueólogo Indiana Jones também ressurgiu das areias do deserto onde foi buscar a arca perdida! No dia 22 de maio será lançado o quarto filme da série.

Harrison Ford, aos 65 anos, não deixa nada a dever aos heróis modernos, como o Homem-Aranha, interpretado por Tobey Maguire. O cara foge de pedras girantes, enfrenta animais selvagens e escapa de armadilhas inimagináveis para atingir seu objetivo e de quebra roubar o coração da mocinha, neste caso, nem tão ‘mocinha’ assim: a atriz Kate Blanchet. A história do filme ainda não foi divulgada, mas se charme e experiência contarem, as bilheterias devem estar garantidas.

As rugas e os quilinhos a mais não são empecilho para que estes coroas sejam bem sucedidos na tarefa de salvar o país ou o mundo. John McClane que o diga! O cara que é Duro de Matar escapou da morte inúmeras vezes e no último filme da série se vê às voltas com a informática. É que os Estados Unidos sofrem um ataque terrorista pela Web.

Um hacker consegue invadir a infra-estrutura computadorizada que controla as comunicações, o transporte e a energia do país, ameaçando causar um gigantesco
blecaute. O policial da velha guarda, na pele de Bruce Willis, foi chamado para confrontá-lo.

E já que, mais acima, nós falamos de Sylvester Stallone, vale fazer também uma homenagem ao filme Rocky Balboa, o sexto da série, que já estreou nos cinemas há algum tempo e foi super elogiado.

Sometimes I wonder what the other Die Hard movies would’ve been like if John McClane ran all around barefoot in those like he did in the first one.

He was pretty harcore in the first one without any shoes, right?

Could he sustain that level of hardcoreness and smart-mouthedness in Die Hard 2, what with all the running around in the snow and all? Or would he get frostbite and have to have his feet amputated?

I’m pretty sure that’s what would’ve happened.

Then he’d have ended up shooting Samuel Jackson’s character in Die Hard With A Vengeance for making too many wisecracks about the prosthetic feet he’d, of course, have been running around trying to solve those silly riddles with.

And then, if Al had put down the Twinkies and helped him skirt the charges for killing Zeus in NYC, even though Al was, of course, an LA cop, I doubt that he’d have been able to do half the stuff he did in Live Free Or Die Hard with prosthetics.

Unless Justin Long went all “I’m a Mac…” and hooked him up with some iFeet to do all sorts of futuristic John McClane shenanigans with, like hovering in front of that one fighter jet that just ravaged that one freeway, and while hovering in front of the plane, point a handgun at the cockpit, and be all like “Now who’s afraid of heights?” and then bust a cap in the bad guy pilot’s grill, causing the jet to crash atop the remains of the freeway and burst into a firey mess.

In conclusion, the original Die Hard is the best.

Oh, and Die Hard 2 is cool, too, though, because not only does John McClane stab a dude in the eye with an icicle — an icicle! — but he blows up an entire jumbo jet by lighting its fuel leak on fire with a zippo lighter.

Yippie-kay-yay, motherlovers.

Len Wiseman

Jay A. Fernandez and Borys Kit – The Hollywood Reporter

Len Wiseman has signed to develop and direct a film adaptation of the graphic novel “Shrapnel” for Radical Pictures.
Wiseman said was browsing comic-book stores with his 10-year-old daughter, Lily, when he happened upon the comic the day it hit shelves. He quickly had his agent at ICM scout the rights.
The graphic novel, which Radical Publishing teased at last year’s Comic-Con, describes a sci-fi future where humans have colonized the solar system and formed a Solar Alliance to govern the planets. The story focuses on Venus, the last rebellious holdout, and a self-exiled former Marine who teaches the colonists how to fight back.
“I am really drawn to the reluctant-hero story,” said Wiseman, who noted that the last hero he directed — John McClane in “Live Free or Die Hard” — fit that archetypal mold.
Nick Sagan and Zombie Studios chief Mark Long created the property. Radical principal Barry Levine will produce with Wiseman and Mark Gordon.
Josh McLaughlin of the Gordon Co. brought the project in and will oversee “Shrapnel” for the company. Long and Radical’s Jesse Berger will exec produce.
Being developed as a live-action pic, a 3D approach is considered possible. A video game is planned with Zombie Studios.
ICM-repped Wiseman is attached to direct “Motorcade” at DreamWorks from a Billy Ray screenplay and also will helm DreamWorks’ adaptation of the comic book “Atlantis Rising,” penned by Joby Harold, for a summer 2011 release.
Wiseman also plans to direct the video game adaptation “Gears of War” for Legendary Pictures and Warner Bros. and is producing the original sci-fi action thriller “Nonstop” for DreamWorks.
Radical has several of its comic properties in development, including “Abattoir,” to be written and directed by Darren Lynn Bousman; “Freedom Formula,” which Bryan Singer is producing for New Regency; and “Hercules: The Thracian Wars,” which Peter Berg is producing for Spyglass/Universal.

“It is a great principle in psychiatry that ‘all symptoms are overdetermined.’  This means that they have more than one cause….
I want to scream this from the rooftops:  ‘All symptoms are overdetermined.’”  M. Scott Peck, In Search of Stones

Malcolm Gladwell has a new article out.  Gladwell fans wait for these with great anticipation.  And, as usual, it does not disappoint.  This time, he tackles the financial crisis, and the problems of Wall Street.  His title reveals his view:  COCKSURE: Banks, battles, and the psychology of overconfidence. Here’s his take:

“Since the beginning of the financial crisis, there have been two principal explanations for why so many banks made such disastrous decisions. The first is structural. Regulators did not regulate. Institutions failed to function as they should. Rules and guidelines were either inadequate or ignored. The second explanation is that Wall Street was incompetent, that the traders and investors didn’t know enough, that they made extravagant bets without understanding the consequences. But the first wave of postmortems on the crash suggests a third possibility: that the roots of Wall Street’s crisis were not structural or cognitive so much as they were psychological.”

Gladwell wrestles with the problems of overconfidence:

“Of course, one reason that over-confidence is so difficult to eradicate from expert fields like finance is that, at least some of the time, it’s useful to be overconfident—or, more precisely, sometimes the only way to get out of the problems caused by overconfidence is to be even more overconfident.”

It is a complex issue!

Critics are weighing in quickly.  Conor Friedersdorf, for a vacationing Andrew Sullivan on The Daily Dish (where I was first tipped off to the article), states his opinion in his title: A Cocksure Malcolm Gladwell Gets It Wrong. He argues that the structural explanation has great merit, and Gladwell fails to see such merit.

Elsewhere, the Gawker argues that Gladwell should not reduce it to the psychological explanation only.

I say, they are all right.  Because, there is no one explanation – the causes are overdetermined.  There are multiple causes, all feeding on and reinforcing each other.  And since there are multiple causes, there is no one simple solution.  The simple, easy solutions only work in Hollywood – especially in your typical 30 second commercial  (young man, just spray your body with AXE and the beautiful women will all chase you…)  But in a world as complex as ours, with problems as big as ours, we need all the possible diagnoses, and all the possible cures, we can get.

There have been some pretty good minds at work on this question, so why haven’t they solved it by now?  What did go wrong?  They are seaching for an answer – no, they are searching for the answer.  From the disagreements, we should learn that there is no the answer.  And we should grasp, and understand, and acknowledge our “ignorance.”  It might keep us humble, and help us not be so cocksure to the point of disaster.

There’s a line in the movie Live Free or Die Hard.  The young computer wiz Matt Farrell is astonished at the arrogant ignorance of Bowman, the FBI “expert,”  “The things he does not know,” Farrell says to John McClane.

So it is for all of us – the things we do not know.

————————————————————————————————————

• For a terrific article on why Malcolm Gladwell is so good, so valuable, check out:  Why do book clubs love Malcolm Gladwell? He reads deeply and writes clearly, in plain English by Shelley Blanton-Stroud.

• You can order synopses of my presentations for all three Gladwell books, The Tipping Point, Blink, and Outliers, at our companion web site, 15 Minute Business Books.

This blog is wholly preposterous. What’s the point, you ask? Shut your mouth, that’s the fucking point, say I.

What am I thinking right now?  That was a fuckin’ tasty ginger-O I just ate. What’s a ginger-O you ask?  Well, I’ll tell you.  Is he gonna write this whole post in questions to himself, you ask?  I told you to shut your fuckin’ mouth and let me tell you what a ginger-O is.

A Ginger-O is a delicious cookie in the great “ginger snap w/ creme” tradition.  Delicious, to be sure, but that’s not all.  Ginger-Os are a spin-off of Newman-Os, the delectable confectionery wonder made by the Newman’s Own company.

See it?  Look tasty?  They are.  Proceeds go to help charities, thanks to one man.  You know who that is, there, menacing shoppers with his pitchfork?  That’s Paul Newman.  There’s a real man if ever there was one.  He’s gone now, but his manliness lingers in the air like a particularly pungent body odor when you walk into the exercise room and someone’s been hitting the elliptical pretty hard in the not-too-distant past.  That’s right, this isn’t just earth.  This is some planet Paul Newman worked out on.  What am I saying?  Doesn’t matter.  If you disagree with me, Paul Newman might just rise from his threateningly fresh grave to shoot you.

Or have his way with you.

Or hit you with a hoe.

Think this post is getting a little long?  Tough shit.  That’s just what some women said about Paul Newman’s dick right before he used it to slap them senseless.  (My mom is sitting opposite me in the family room and I just think she’d be ashamed of me to read the stuff I’m writing.  So I’ll continue.)

Which gets me thinking about men.  You know who else is a man?  John McClane.  In the first installment of Die Hard, which I had the immense pleasure to watch the other day when I should have been preparing for my job, he absolutely sets the bar not just for shooting Europeans, but for swearing.  He uses phrases I’m a fan of, such as “no fucking shit,” and “I’m not the one who just got buttfucked on national TV.”  What a man.  While he’s at it, he removes most of his clothes, tears down racial barriers, and makes fun of the state of California.  All noble undertakings.  Noble and manly.

Oh and by the way, did John McClane ever let us down, in four movies?  Not on your fuckin’ life.  Jack Sparrow, Indiana Jones, and Michael Corleone ate shit before they got even close, and none of them had to fight Alan Rickman.

Look at this man.  I’ll drink to that.

Ok, now I’m on a roll.  So I’ll talk about Jason Bourne.  I watched Bourne Ultimatum last night, and while he’s no John McClane – he spent too much time in the first innings jacking off in Switzerland and Germany and bullshit places like that – he definitely got his shit together by the end.  Ok, bad guys.  So you wiped his memory and killed all his friends.  So you know exactly what he looks like and you’ve transferred every last guy and every last silenced pistol from the war on terror to the war on the terrifying Jason Bourne.  Well, I’ve got some bad news.  While you were dashing to your car to give pursuit, Bourne invented a time machine, went back to your childhood, and implanted a miniature robotic version of himself in your head.  Just so you’re ready, it should begin kicking you in the cerebral cortex right… about… Ow.  Is he at least gonna show up to gloat?  Nope.  He’s busy going back in time to fuck your mom in the 40s.  When she was hot.

Bourne: “Where are you now?”

Vosen: “I’m… sitting in my office.”

Bourne: “I doubt that.”

Vosen: “Why would you doubt that?”

Bourne “Because if you were in your office you probably would have tried to stop me when I took a shit on your desk.”

Jason Bourne, you’re a man, too.  But the list continues.  You know who else is a man?

I am.

Have any of you ever seen www.tastyface.com?  Go to it.  It’s amazing.  It’s well-organized, it’s concise, it’s aesthetically pleasing, the authors care about things like consistency and grammar.  Basically it’s everything this piece of shit blog isn’t.  And you know what?  Fuck that.  ‘Cause that blog is fucking girly.

Remember in elementary school when classifying that which was girly was super easy?  It was all pink pencils and Lisa Frank and cooties.  Well puberty signalled the advent of boy-girl relationships, and empathy, and since then this idea of girliness has sorta died down.  Just like the idea of communism.  Well I assure you they are both prevalent, and require constant vigilance and awareness.  Girliness now is marked by things like affection, blankets, and compassion for humans and animals.  So-called “Tasty Face” is literred with this bullshit.  There are a few exceptions, such as Julie Beck, who understands that God put man and beast upon this earth to be killed and eaten.  By Jack Bauer.  But on the whole, the lot of them are concerned with things like “peace” and “vegan alternatives.”  Not just healthy food, but healthy food they like to prepare themselves, no less.  No coincidence, I’m sure, that many of them are associated with the Great State of California.  Certified Real Man John “McMAN” McClane put it best, when he mused, “Jesus… fucking California.”  I am from the Midwest, from a state where we have good, honest cloud cover, and two nights ago my father and I, who both spend our year surrounded by healthy eaters, went out for steak.  Very little steak on Tasty Face.  Although someone else prepared my steak for me in exchange for money, and I therefore do not have a beautiful photograph of my steak, I feel quite confident that it came from a cow that looked like this.

How adorable.  How delicious when served in sizzling garlic butter with shoe-string fries.  I admit that I had a tomato and bleu cheese salad for an appetizer, but I posit that in eating mine and my father’s desserts, I redeemed myself.  Bottom line is, ’twas a marvelous outing for me and my father, if not for the cow.  ‘Twas a good day to be a man.

And so, in recognition of my achievements in homo-social hero worship, focus-lacking structure abuse, unprovoked girl-bashing, and masturbatory self-aggrandizement, I call myself a man.  And damn proud.

Thus ends my blog post.  Any comments about pith and brevity should be addressed to Paul Newman’s penis.

Sabemos que los concursos de belleza son “difíciles” (ahora dizque se busca que las ganadoras sean más que caras bonitas) porque si no estás “guapa” (¡ja!) ya estás prácticamente perdida.

Pero no todo es tan straightforward como parece, porque depende de ¿Bonita para quién? pues si hay jueces, para ellos, pero ahí entra otra cosa, el favoritismo. Es muy probable que los jueces sean amigos/parientes de alguna de las concursantes y pues ya cambia la cosa. Igual si hay votaciones, pues varía un poco más el resultado.

En mi escuela hay de las 2, jueces y votación. Los jueces eligen a las finalistas y la gente vota por una de ellas, pero la gente que vota es la que va al evento, no toda la escuela. Sólo Dios sabe quiénes serán los jueces y sólo Dios sabe quién irá y sólo Dios sabe quién contará los votos, pero les puedo decir algo, si fuera por aplausómetro Karen ganaría.

Ella y Sheyla se podría decir que son mis amigas, aunque acquaintances sienta mejor, me caen bien ambas y bueno, Karen es, a mis ojos, una verdadera belleza aunque su forma de caminar peca de sobreactuada, Sheyla también es bastante atractiva y me es algo más cercana, si es que. Ninguna de las dos quiso que las maquillara quién yo les recomendé, pero bueno, no me tienen tanta confianza.

La cosa es que Gisela, otra de las candidatas (de la que yo sabía un pepino hasta este concurso) está echando la casa por la ventana en cuanto a publicidad (bueno, mantas y regalitos pues). Ayer me regaló 4 películas (apócrifas), un lapicero y Allah sabe a cuántas más personas les dio obsequios, remeras incluídas y aún así no puedo pegarle un rostro al nombre. Le agradezco sinceramente la tarde que pasé viendo la Die Hard: With a Vengeance que me regaló, pero yo vendo caro mi amor y más caro mi voto.

El meollo del asunto es que sin importar quién gane, estos concursos son por mucho irrelevantes y hasta denigrantes pero si hace feliz a una de ellas, pues Amen. Yo ya salí ganando con dos horas de John McClane.

Igual y mañana les pongo fotos de las candidatas.

Yippee ki-yay, motherfucker!

One of the problems with the way I’ve structured this blog is it’s a bit black and white. There are films out there which fit in the grey area between genius and disaster.
So, here’s a list of good bad films, they’re not exactly brilliant, but they’re good in their own rubbish way. They’re the inbetweeners that don’t fit on the must-see list but don’t belong on the steer-clear list either.

The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. It’s not exactly a great film; the plot is thin and the adaptations from the novels are just plain wrong, but I still love it to bits. It’s harmless fun, it makes me laugh and on a dull night in it definitely passes the time.

Die Hard 2.  Yes we all know it’s nowhere near as good as the original, or even the third, but its John McClane running around shooting things and saying Yipee Ki-Ay. It’s all I need.

Bruce Almighty. I know that its wrong to love Jim Carrey but I can’t help it.  This film borders on preachy but just gets round it, and it really does make me laugh.  We’re all alllowed some guilty pleasures…

Home Alone.  I know. But hear me out.  It’s Christmas and that brilliant John Williams score starts up…it just works.

The two Matrix Sequels.  Compared to the original they aren’t fit to call themselves The Matrix, but if you let that go, there’s some awesome fight choreography which make it worthwile as long as you don’t try and understand the plot.  The multicar pile up in Reloaded is the best I’ve ever seen, I’d watch it just for that.

Fantastic Four.  Defintely the weakest of the Marvel adaptations, the characters just aren’t as interesting, but it’s still a fun watch.  I’m never going to quite buy Ioan Gruffudd as an action hero, but the film doesn’t take itself seriously enough for it to matter.

The Lost Boys.  Possible the most 80s film ever made.  The special effects are “special” for all the wrong reasons and the vampire plot was tired even then, but somehow it still manages to be brilliant.  Maybe it’s Keifer Sutherland with peroxide hair that does it…

So, they’re not exactly run out and see them now recommendations, but don’t turn them down.  Give ‘em a go.  Don’t expect Oscar winners, just slightly fluffy but fun film making.

My little buddy/roommate Josh Lipka (JL Cakes Machine) is in the hospital right now. It’s weird; I came home from work last night, and Ryan said:

“Oh, Ken?”
“What?”
“Josh is in the hospital.”
“WHAT?”
[louder]“Josh is in the hospital.”
“I heard you – why is he in the hospital?”
“Having his appendix taken out, I guess.”
“Oh. Well, let’s watch Lost.”

This is a minor deal as far as surgeries go, obviously, and he’s fine, but it’s still sobering for me to think of my friends as being anything but indestructible alcohol consumption factories. I’m a fragile little flower that bends in the slightest easterly breeze, but people like Josh and Ryan are like bulldozers strapped to missiles being shot into the sun to fuck it to death as far as I’m concerned, so it’s particularly arresting to me when they display some sign of weakness. Josh, I mean, was just fine on Tuesday; I sat on the floor in his room and watched the Celtics game and wondered aloud how long it would be before Tommy Heinsohn legitimately had a stroke during a live broadcast.

Then, apparently, sometime yesterday morning, Josh felt, in his words, “…like there was an alien trying to burst out of my stomach.” Now, let’s be straight here – in and of itself, that’s awesome.  Aliens are awesome, and things bursting out of people’s bodies are awesome, and, well, to combine those two things in a location fairly close to me is so awesome as to nearly render the very word meaningless.  If I came home, and Josh was splayed out on the floor of the living room, bloody and screaming in pain with an alien blooming out of his chest cavity?  Sure, there’d be a twinge of sadness there, about my friend being in not the best of states, but that twinge would be bookended by the most intense fanboy boner and orgasm the world has ever witnessed.

Then, Josh said to Ryan, “Welp – see you later,” and walked calmly out of our apartment, to his car, and drove to Wentworth Douglas Hospital and checked in.  A few hours later, some people with knives cut his body open and ripped his appendix out like the remains of an eagle wedged in an airplane engine.

A few hours after that, Ryan, Josh Austin, Meg, Amanda, and me loaded up a few High Lifes, a bone saw, and about thirty thousand gallons of pure, uncut bro-love and hauled it over to the hospital; we were going to either visit Josh and lift his spirits, bust him out of the joint, or kill everyone in the city trying.  I mean, one of those things, or we’d just stand around awkwardly, making jokes about poop while the nurses awkwardly tried to perform their jobs without punching us in the face.

There were awkward moments all around, really.  The thing about hospital visits – and this is true regardless of the severity of the patient’s condition – is that they’re always the most forced attempts at restoring normalcy that anyone can muster.  No matter how confident you are, or how strong a particular friendship or relationship may be, there’s no escaping the fact that all of your conversational efforts are aimed at ignoring the fact that, as of a few hours ago, some joker with a paper mask on was rooting around inside your buddy’s insides like a plumber unclogging a drain.  So we made lots of jokes, and the girls took turns rubbing Josh’s feet and scoring him extra helpings of hospital pudding, and Ryan pretended to poop in a bag (maybe not as close to pretend as we’d like – he didn’t make it out of the building, even, before he had to stop and commandeer a  bathroom for a solid twenty minutes).

He’s probably on his way out, now, as I write this, but also, the old man who Josh shared a room with is likely not going anywhere.  I saw him a little, just glimpsed him on the other side of the curtain in the center of the room, and his little old-guy-face looked fixed in surprise; the mouth hanging open, the eyes wide.  I don’t know what he had, exactly, but I’m going to go ahead and guess, sadly, that the health gap between my 22-year-old semi-professional cyclist and his elderly roommate was pretty fucking wide.  The nurse came in to check on Josh, just before we left for the night, and she asked him if he needed anything for the pain.

“No, that’s okay, thank you,” he said.  She turned around and walked out, but as she was, Josh’s elderly roommate-for-the-night muttered, “Meeeee…I do.”  We looked at each other and made yeesh faces, but on the way out, we didn’t talk about the old guy at all, and instead we made jokes about climbing on top of the elevator, like John McClane.