Over the course of this week, we will uncover twenty titles you need to seek out at your local DVD store. Here is Part 2.

The list is laid out something like this. The title, year it was made, genre, synopsis and finally my rating. I hope to do more of these lists as I uncover some of the treasures hidden at the local videostore.

15. Legionnaire (1998) (Action – Drama)

Jean-Claude Van Damme stars as Alain Lefevre, a boxer who decides to defy a mobster and not take a fall in a huge boxing match. To avoid being killed by the mob, Alain escapes to join the French Foreign Legion stationed in Africa. Alain quickly realizes that the struggle to stay alive as a “legionnaire” might be more harrowing than avoiding the mob.

Alain learns a lot about himself and the power of redemption and friendship. “Legionnaire” ranks in the top 5 best Van Damme films among that top 5 are films like “Bloodsport” and “Timecop”.

The reason this film is so much better than a lot of the films Van Damme has done is that it is presented as an epic. The film showcases glorious cinematography, epic war battles and a great performance from Van Damme, which showcases an internal human struggle. Forget the crap films Van Damme has made  like “Knockoff”, “Universal Soldier: The Return” and “Maximum Risk” and embrace this entry in the Van Damme action journey. This movie is way better than it deserves to be! A true must for Van Damme fans and fans of epic adventure. (4 out of 5)

14. Live Wire (1992) (Action – Drama)

Danny O’Neill (Pierce Brosnan) is a bomb disposal expert assigned to a case where terrorists have developed an “invisible” biological liquid explosive. Their targets include a group of US Senators and one of them happens to be sleeping with Danny’s wife.

“Live Wire” is the 2nd Brosnan film on this list and another welcomed discovery. The film is directed and photographed like a “Lethal Weapon” film and has the adrenaline and intensity of that style. The explosive is so original I decided not to reveal what it is in this review.

You really have to see the film to understand how unique it is. It’s something I have never seen before or since. Another similarity between “Lethal Weapon” and this film is the way Brosnan plays Danny.

He plays him a lot like the way Mel Gibson portrayed Martin Riggs, burnt out and as explosive as the materials he uses.

Brosnan accomplishing this draws us into a deeper connection to the character. There is a lot of charisma in Brosnan and from his acting in this film it’s not surprising he was James Bond. (3.5 of 5)

13. Mr. Frost (1990) (Horror – Suspense)

What if Satan walked among us? A man named Frost (Jeff Goldblum) is imprisoned for murder after he is arrested while burying his victims in a garden. However, even while under strict psychiatric care, it becomes obvious that Mr. Frost is not all that he seems. There is more behind this mysterious man than meets the eye. “Mr. Frost” is so blatantly eerie that it sweeps you in with a stranglehold. Goldblum is charismatic and plays one of the spookiest characters you will ever see. Think Goldblum playing a charismatic and younger “Hannibal Lecter”. For the whole film you aren’t sure what makes the man tick and that is what makes it so addicting to watch. Goldblum is brilliant in this mind-bender. (3.5 of 5)

12. No Way Back (1996) (Action – Drama)

When F.B.I. Agent Zack Grant’s (Russell Crowe) partner is killed in an operation goes sour, he will do anything to find the man or men responsible. The action gets intense when airline stewardess Mary (Helen Slater) gets mixed up in Zack’s crusade.

These problems snowball as Mafioso and Yakuza complications present themselves. “No Way Back” is a solid and adrenaline packed action film that debuted just a year before Crowe became famous to the world in “LA Confidential”.

Crowe brings such grit and demeanor to the burnt out hero that we cheer for him all the way through. The film’s ending doesn’t do the rest justice but the reason to see this film is purely for fans of Russell Crowe. (3.5 of 5)

11. Raising Cain (1992) (Suspense)

Jenny Nix (Lolita Davidovich), wife of eminent child psychologist Carter Nix (John Lithgow), begins to neglect her daughter after an adulterous affair with an old flame (Steven Bauer).

While Jenny becomes enthralled in the affair her husband becomes deeply concerned for the well being of their daughter. Some rather distressing kidnapping grip the neighborhood in which the Nix’s live.

Could these kidnapping be linked to Carter Nix’s past. Lithgow is utterly brilliant, as he has to play not 2 characters but 4.

His performance even dives deeper into depth as Carter Nix begins to go insane.

Director Brian DePalma seems to give Lithgow a lot of leeway, as some of the mental shuffles seem almost ad-libbed. Those scenes are brilliant to watch as you see the magnificence of Lithgow.

The real sad note of the film is that it is way to short and the script seems to bolt along. The script could have used a little more detail.

The film is a great suspense ride and with the perfect performance by Lithgow which make it a great renter. (3 of 5)

One of my fears about entering CPS was the “Raising Cain” issue.  If you don’t know about this book, it’s about how young boys in our society are often labeled as “naughty” in class because our schools are set up so that typical girl behavior is the ideal whereas rowdy, energetic little boys have a hard time conforming to the sit still/don’t talk/don’t touch any one standards.  (Actually I think a lot of 6yo girls are like that too, but according to folklore, they can reign it in when needed.)

It took my son a good 6 months to warm up to school and his Kindergarten teacher last year and all the other kids in the class.  The teacher mentioned to me one day that “he really seemed to be coming out of his shell and showing his true personality.”  Then a week later was the first time he got in trouble in class.  So his true personality was a naughty one that had been held captive inside for many months and was ready to break free.

This year has been tougher because first grade is a bit more serious: no play time (exploration stations,) more real work time, and in general, not a lot of time to chat with friends throughout the day.  Frustrating if you are 6-7 years old.

So today my son’s class went on a field trip and he told me that he was in the teacher’s group and he thought that she put all the naughty kids with her (I think teachers do that so no parent gets stuck with the crazy kids and refuses to do field trips any more.)  I scoffed at the notion (since MY son isn’t THAT naughty) and asked for the names of the other kids in the group.  All boys.  All energetic boys.  I think he was right.  I love all those boys.  They’re all full of energy and goofiness and fun.  But of course that doesn’t fly when a teacher is trying to corral six of them at once.  In fact I remember losing a kid on that same field trip last year.

I still am having trouble understanding little boy energy.  I see them play fighting and wrestling around and whapping each other and it freaks me out, but they seem to be having fun.  I can see where a young teacher would also have a hard time just letting it happen.

I don’t know what I’d do in the perfect world to deal with the rambunctious types in a first grade class.  What comes to mind is letting them out into the hallway every hour to run like banshees for 5 minutes.

Or maybe I’ll form P.O.N.K.  Parents of Naughty Kids and fight for our rights.

I love the U2 song White as Snow and last night I was able to play and sing it for the boys out here at Boys Camp.  Other than simply the love of a good song, why would I sing that song here?  Because boys need to learn to lament.

White as Sn0w is a song of lament, the last melody of a dying man.  While songs of lament form a significant part of the songs God’s people would sing as they followed Yahweh in faithful covenant, many of our popular evangelical traditions rarely, if ever, sing lament.  I remember running into this when I was more involved in Sunday morning worship gatherings–picking Psalms to read could often be a challenge because so many of them mix celebration, praise and lament into a single song to God. We typically avoid the depressing or violent Psalms, preferring the upbeat and celebratory ones.  We do this to our loss.

Boys and men are often told not to voice lament, not to feel pain, not to show vulnerability.  As the authors of Raising Cain argue, most men recieve a two-mode emotional education–we are permitted to show joy and anger, but not much else.  Songs of Lament (modern or ancient, written by King David or Bono) bring the full range of human emotion and passion into the reality of life.  Anger and joy and so much more–humility, shame, pleas, love, hurt, fear, depression, rage, disappointment, trust, memory and celebration, all woven together into songs that awaken our hearts.  Boys need men in their lives who are able to express themselves in ways deeper than anger and joy, willing and able to articulate the deep waters of the human soul, calling boys to become the men they were created to be.  Songs of Lament help us to do that.

Boy: “They raised Cain!”

Bible verse of the day:  Psalm 91:1

“He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty.”

Prayer:

Dear Heavenly Father,

Today is the day that You have made, and I will rejoice and be glad in it.  Father, I call upon Your name and I seek You Your Will for my day.  I pray for my cup to be filled with Your Holy Word and to find rest in Your Loving Care.  I love You and thank You for loving me so much!  Your Love has kindled a fire deep within my soul to love others  just as You love me. 

In Jesus Name I pray,

Amen

I went to an interesting talk at my son’s school last night about differences in boys and girls in learning and play.  The speakers were 2 academic PhD types who have read every book on the topic and also have a private practice in counseling little kids.

They began the session with a great story, excerpted I think from Raising Cain (one of the definitive books about how the education system is squelching boys’ natural exuberance and society kills their emotional side.)   It was about a group of elementary school kids who were divided by gender for a woodworking activity and each side had to work together and decide whether they would build a bridge or a catapult.   Girls typically chose bridge and boys always chose catapult.   Then the girls got together in an organized fashion planning their bridge, discussing ideas, etc. (much like a business meeting I gather.)  The boys, on the other hand, each went off on their own, slapping together ramshackle catapults with little planning or discussion, trying to out-catapult each other.  They were more energetic and crazy and got madder and more frustrated, but soon the best catapults rose out of the rubble, then the boys would come together more, fine tune, share ideas, and ultimately a very fine catapult was build using the best ideas from the group.

But you can see where a teacher or parent would probably be telling the boys to work more like the girls and to pipe down, not goof around, etc.  Yet the speakers pointed out that the boys took more risks and may have ended up with a better catapult than if they’d sat there and “ideated” for a while.  So in the end, each side can learn from each other about ways to work as a team.  She didn’t mention it, but I bet the boys tried to use the catapult to smash the girls’ bridge.

Some other points that they made that are good for parents to know included:

Just because your son plays with fake guns or is enamored of voilence doesn’t mean he will grow up to be a gang member, NRA member, prison guard, criminal, etc.  He could just as easily be something peaceful (and make his mother proud.) As long as you keep reinforcing positive messages.

Just because your daughter is obessessed with princesses doesn’t mean she’ll grow up to be shallow fashion-loving bimbo.   As long as you keep reinforcing positive messages.

Just because your teenage son acts homophobic doesn’t mean he will be so as an adult.  As long as you keep reinforcing positive messages.

Young girls today are much more progressive in their thinking – they believe the world is their oyster, they can do anything, etc.  But they will still likely revert to the typical old pre-teen/teen girl way of thinking that will make you want to cringe (caring about what the bitchy girls at school think, treating other meanly, seeking approval from the opposite sex, etc.)  But they will emerge OK if you keep reinforcing positive messages.

Boys and men have a harder time multitasking than girls/women do.  So when you are reinforcing your positive messages to boys, don’t do it while they are deeply involved in another task.

Reading disabilities in 1st an 2nd grade are no predictor of future academic success IF they are dealt with.  Most can be corrected.  BUT, if a child continues to 3rd grade and on and these reading problems haven’t been dealt with they will likely be behind for the rest of school.

The recommended a book called Boys & Girls by Vivan Gussin Paley, a teacher who explored the differences in play and words of her Kindergarten class one year.

When I read Raising Cain last year, I did get a big apprehensive about putting a boy into CPS where there are big classes that are harder to control and plenty of teacher who use the traditional techniques to keep the kids in line.  So, plenty of opportunity for a rambunctious boy to be told he’s naughty.  I have to see how this pans out.  My son’s latent naughty side is now emerging so I may find out first hand how it is dealt with.

This morning I was relaying the story about the catapult experiment to my son.  Of course he was interested in building the catapult and his main comment on the whole things was “But how BIG was the catapult?!”  I guess I should have asked.  Gender difference.

Dia 98, segunda-feira:

Músicas:

• Strange & Beautiful, Aqualung
• Eu Preciso Dizer Que Te Amo, Cazuza e Bebel Gilberto
• Summertime, Janis Joplin
• Mr. Brightside, The Killers
• Geni e o Zepelim, Chico Buarque

Comentários:

1. Assisti a Raising Cain. Mil e uma idéias loucas.
2. Joguinhos do Acer viciam total.
3. Só a gente pra ser parada pela Polícia Rodoviária mesmo, né? ¬¬
4. A volta é sempre mais rápida do que a ida.
5. O trânsito do RJ me irrita profundamente. O que que as pessoas estão fazendo no carro às 11 da manhã de uma segunda feira??? Jesus, já é Natal e esqueceram de me contar??
6. Calor dos infernos… ¬¬  Não senti absolutamente NENHUMA falta desse calor e dessa umidade dos infernos.
7. Quero as fotos.
8. Sono eterno.
9. Não vou pra aula, não..

Dia 97, domingo:

Músicas:

• Is This Love?, Bob Marley
• Nobody Move, Nobody Get Hurt, We Are Scientists

Comentários:

1. Bong é super divertido! Brigadeiro sem manteiga também. Só tenho que saber dosar a quantidade, porque putz… sem comentários. Mas o gosto é perfeito.
2. Já era. Saímos pra procurar boatchys… isso não vai dar certo.
3. Não deu. Entramos e saímos de vários buracos bizarros e terminamos desistindo, depois de nos perder trinta vezes e nos achar mais trinta. Paramos no posto pra comprar cerva e comida e depois jogar sinuca no play da casa da mãe da Carol, de madrugada (leia-se 3 da manhã).
4. A onda não tá batendo… preciso de álcool! (Pra quê?? ¬¬)
5. Só em SP a Bohemia custa O MESMO PREÇO da Itaipava, não é mesmo minha gente?? Sendo que a Skol, Brahma, Antartica, etc etc etc tavam tudo mais caro. Alô?? Levei quatro logo!
6. A loja de conveniência logo virou um filme e eu e Carol ficamos seqüelando absurdamente nisso.
7. As ruas eram rios. Não, sério.
8. Tamires me fez entrar na pior bad da vida quando viajou que a rua era contramão. E a curva nunca acabava e era subida, ou seja, se viesse um carro, já era todo mundo. E eu JURO que VI a minha morte. Foi surreal.
9. Chegamos pra jogar sinuca, logo depois de devorar todos os biscoitos que a Tamires comprou, coitada… carilá é foda… O porteiro, coitado, ainda pediu pra gente não fazer barulho. Mas adiantou? Que naaaaada! Era um festival de risos e babaquices que eu devia ter gravado porque deve ser hilário ver tudo aquilo agora.
10. Bad começou na sinuca. Começo = Carol e Tamires achando que tinham pessoas dentro do lugar e que não iam abrir a porta e acender a luz. Entraram em pânico. Eu que tive que ir. ¬¬ Começo da MINHA bad = comecei a ver mãos de alguém descendo pelo vidro fumê da porta do lugar. Assustador! Juro. Logo depois de rirem da minha cara, Carol também viu. Aí, mais tarde, Tamires gritou porque viu algo e depois falou: “Ah, é só um garoto.” E começou a rir. Sendo que não existia garoto nenhum no lugar, às 4 da manhã. Ponto. Última bad na sinuca = elas famintas, querendo subir pra casa da mãe da Carol (no fuckin’ way!!!) e eu querendo sair dali porque estava me sentindo altamente claustrofóbica. Comecei a entrar em pânico e a gente saiu. A porta não queria fechar, ninguém conseguia achar a chave certa. Tamires entrou na bad total e chamou a Carol pra sair dali com ela e me deixaram pra trás por 5 segundos. Cara, nestes 5 segundos, eu achei que eu fosse morrer. Medo mortal e eu comecei a chamá-las. Só vi a cara da Carol aparecendo por trás do muro e dizendo pra eu sair dali e deixar a porta aberta mesmo e foda-se. Saímos correndo. Depois de muita insistência minha, elas resolveram não subir e comer no McDonald’s. (Mais uma vez, pra quê???)
11. Uma cerveja e menos da metade de outra e eu já enlouqueci de vez. Nunca vi isso na vida!!! Guardei as outras pra outrora.
12. Carol dirige bem PRA CARALHO. Tenho que admitir. Sério.
13. Bad claustrofóbica voltou absurdamente dentro do carro. =/
14. Depois de nos perder trocentas vezes e eu, sei lá como, conseguir me achar no meio de uma cidade que eu não conheço, a gente encontrou o McDonald’s.
15. McDonald’s me deu claustrofobia MÓR. Quanta gente às 4 da manhã, jesus!!! Definitivamente, não sirvo pra comer space brigadeiro e sair andando pela cidade grande. Não dá!!! É muita nóia pra minha cabeça. Começo a ouvir o pensamento de todos dentro da minha cabeça, tudo ao mesmo tempo. Todo mundo falando de mim. Enlouquecedor. Quis sair de lá correndo, mas elas ainda iam comprar a comida. Que saco… respirei trocentas vezes, tentei não enlouquecer, conversei comigo mesma milhares de vezes, e estava aguentando até um grupinho de merdas playboys de cu é rola paulistanos imbecis que estavam atrás de nós começarem a me zoar. Tipo, LOGO QUANDO EU TÔ NA MERDA. Tipo, perfeito, não? Não poderiam ter escolhido hora melhor! ¬¬  É muita negatividade em uma cidade só, cara. Dá não… sério. Anyway, se estivesse bem, mandaria um foda-se ou viraria pra eles e falaria algo finish him, mas não estava.. então, só piorou a situação. No início, nem percebi que eles tavam falando de mim, mas depois eu comecei a ouvir e me irritar tanto que comecei a respirar mais ainda pra não virar e dar um murro na fuça do panaca. Eu me via fazendo isso e criando uma confusão surreal em plena madrugada, em uma cidade que eu não conheço, e totalmente fora de mim. Preferi não fazer isso e falei pra Tamires que eu precisava sair imediatamente. Saímos e eu fiquei lá fora. Tamires e Carol se revezaram pra fazer companhia pra mim, enquanto esperavam seus lanches. Mas, coitadas, eles ainda ficaram zoando as duas horrores lá dentro. Bom, enquanto estava lá fora, comecei a entrar em várias bads seguidas e acho que, se não fosse por mim mesma conversando comigo e dizendo que tudo aquilo era idiotice, eu teria me jogado na frente de um carro qualquer. Pior de tudo: tinha um carro de polícia com dois policiais me olhando o tempo todo enquanto eu tava parada lá na frente da porta. Total pânico! Essa bad foi a pior e foi quando eu comecei a gritar comigo mesma, dentro da minha cabeça, pra eu ficar na moral. E foi essa hora que eu pensei no mundo, em termos filosóficos, e imaginei tudo aquilo de tudo ser ilusão e falso e caraca… sério… me deprimi absurdamente. Achei tudo patético. E eu, mais patética ainda por estar enlouquecendo com algo inventado. Sabe? Foi bizarro. Não dá. Tamires veio e eu fiquei falando pra ela me ajudar e ficar dizendo coisas positivas pra mim. Coitada, ela até que tentou.. mas tava foda. Não consigo lidar com toda a luz ao mesmo tempo. Me senti no Ensaio Sobre a Cegueira. Altas viagens bizarras. Tamires e Carol trouxeram os lanches pra fora. Tamires ainda xingou os panacas antes de sair de lá. No use. Fomos pro carro. Eu só queria ir pra casa. Único lugar safe enough for me.
16. Em casa, elas seqüelaram na carilá do McDonald’s. Eu, não consegui comer nada, nem a batata que a Carol deixou pra mim. A nóia voltou extrema. Foi horrível. Não conseguia dormir: fechava os olhos e tudo girava loucamente e eu ia caindo num buraco que nunca acabava. Assustador. Comecei a ouvir barulhos que não existiam. Tamires e Carol foram deitar no sofá, do meu lado, pra não me deixar sozinha. Ficaram ali, tentando me acalmar. Foi foda da parte delas. Tamires já tava quase apagando, praticamente. Carol ainda ficou inventando brincadeiras engraçadas. No fim das contas, todas apagamos, do nada.
17. No more space brigadeiros for me! Sério. Não rola.
18. Acordei, do nada, depois de um sonho absurdamente viajante e revelador. Só que não consigo lembrar de nada. Dentro deste sonho, tinha escrito TODO o meu filme. E eu acordei e quis abrir o laptop pra escrevê-lo, mas não tive vontade de levantar. Já era… perdi tudo. ¬¬  Revoltante.
19. A boca seca do dia seguinte é o pior dos sintomas. Sendo que eu já tinha começado a sentir isso no Mc, mas entrei numa bad escrotíssima de que eu ia morrer desidratada. A bad ainda dura…
20. Nem pra beber água eu tinha forças pra levantar. Eventualmente, eu fui. Várias vezes.
21. Bad real = mãe e avó da Carol aparecendo no apartamento. Ligaram, acordaram a gente e disseram que já estavam indo pra lá. Que bad. Todas ainda muito loucas. ¬¬
22. Almoço na casa da mãe da Carol = bad do começo ao fim. Que cabeça é essa, jesus???
23. Mesmo assim, comida perfeita. Comi horrores e depois entrei na bad que ia passar mal e todos descobririam que eu comi space brigadeiro. Olha a nóia.
24. Como sempre, fiquei pra dentro o dia todo. Normal.
25. Sono absurdo. Queria dormir o dia inteiro.
26. Peregrinação para o Shopping Ibirapuera. Vimos os aviões passando em cima de nossas cabeças. Super viagem! O shopping, em si, é igual ao Barra Shopping. Sério. Idêntico. Tamires, como sempre, a mais capitalista EVER, comprou mais. ¬¬
27. Peregrinação para a casa do pai da Carol. Conheci o irmão mais novo dela: absurdamente fofo. Ficamos um tempo no play, vendo as crianças brincarem.. gente, essa vibe infantil me deixou absurdamente bem e em paz, algo que eu tava precisando horrores.
28. Tamires viaja looooooooonge!
29. Tão engraçado ver as pessoas zoando os palmeirenses e não dando a mínima pro jogo Flamengo e Botafogo na TV. hahahahaah! Surreal.
30. Adorei o condomínio do pai da Carol. Muito foda.
31. Resolvemos peregrinar, depois de muuuuuuuuuuuuuuuita indecisão (¬¬), para o clube Pinheiros. Caro pra caralho, sem comentários, mas foda. Boliche estava fechado, fomos comer pizza. Pizza muito boa, por sinal. Final da noite, achamos uma pista de corrida oficial e tentamos correr até o fim. Não rolou. Mesmo. Comer e correr não dá certo.
32. Vi de perto um campo de futebol oficial. Vi o tamanho real de um gol e agora eu tenho CERTEZA de que aqueles “jogadores” que ficam na cara do gol, sem goleiro nem ninguém na frente deles, e conseguem isolar a bola pra pulta que pariu são realmente uns MERDAS. Até minha avó acerta um chute pra dentro de um gol daquele tamanho, sem ter ninguém na frente, porra. Meu time só tem perna de pau mermo… pffff….
33. O Fantástico salvou nossas vidas. Sério.
34. Fla ganhou!
35. Tive uma conversa sobre futebol com a avó da Carol. Sério. Surreal. Hahahaha! Foi foda. Mais foda ainda é saber que, até agora, todos os paulistanos com quem eu conversei e disse que o time do São Paulo é um lixo que compra todos os campeonatos, concordaram comigo. Adorei isso. =D
36. Super cansaço, mas ter que acordar 3 horas depois não rola. Preferi ficar acordada vendo Raising Cain. Algumas idéias novas brotaram na minha cabeça. As meninas foram dormir.

Some small success to report on the publishing front.

One of my stories has been selected as a finalist for an anthology about fathers, My Dad is My Hero (Adams Press, Spring 2009). My story is one of 53 selected, but only 50 will be published. I’ll find out in July or August if I made the cut. Keep your fingers crossed, people.

The story I submitted is an excerpt from a current post on the blog (the contract I signed allows me to continue to publish it here, even if it’s selected). And that post is actually an excerpt from a longer chapter in my memoir. It’s ironic that the the anthology is about heroic fathers: the full chapter from the memoir offers a somewhat different sensibility about Dad, or at least it juxtaposes a heroic Dad against a more needy Dad. Despite this irony, Dad still makes out pretty good in my memory (as he does in my book).

If you’re wondering (especially you people at home), my childhood memoir isn’t meant as an attack on Dad or anyone else. The more I write, the more I learn about the story, but from what I can tell right now it’s learning to appreciate your own talents and sensibilities, instead of trying to be someone you’re not.

If you want a memoir that’s an attack on fatherhood, read Augusten Burroughs’s Wolf at the Table. I’m only 100 pages in, but Mr. Burroughs is so bitter with his father, it’s hard for me to read.

Sheila brings up overacting. I agree with her on this:

i think meryl streep is best when she’s over-the-top in comedies

Because my favorite Meryl Streep performance ever (almost by default, since it’s really the only one I can say I’ve consciously liked, as opposed to endured) was a hammy ‘Jewish mother’ in something called Prime.

Sheila’s post links to a longish discussion of over-the-top performances. I’d like to nominate John Lithgow for a Lifetime Achievement Award. Some might say he deserves it for his extended 3rd Rock From The Sun performance alone, but many fans of that character may not realize that Lithgow established his over-the-top cred way before that.

Lithgow had a rather impressive run of Needlessly Super-evil Villains (with or without Needlessly Fake British Accents) in cheesy action pics like Ricochet and Renny Harlin’s (soon to be sequelized?) Cliffhanger. For a while in the ’90s, if you needed a cheap but convincingly over-the-top evil villain, Lithgow was the go-to guy in my book.

I’m so evil even the other bad guys think I’m evil.

But for his crowning achievement, there was Brian de Palma’s so-bad-it’s-brilliant Raising Cain:

I’m not crazy! I’m the one that’s crazy!

Other career highlights (as if we needed any more):

• reprising the William Shatner (!) role in the “monster on the airplane wing” segment of the Twilight Zone movie
• the Footloose preacher who won’t allow dancing
• many more I’m sure I’m leaving out.

Is John Lithgow over the top? No. He got over the top long, long ago and started back around. Pretty soon we’ll hear him coming up on us from behind. With a fake British accent, which we won’t care is fake. Because he’s that good.

Well, my article on larrikins’ use of popular theatre to fashion their identity on colonial streets is to be published in Australasian Drama Studies sometime soonish, called “The Larrikin’s Hop”. The title comes from a larrikin song sung in blackface in the late 1880s and early 1890s, by Australian minstrel-vaudeville comic, Will Whitburn.

I’m now writing a piece for an American journal about larrkins’ relationship to blackface performance. To this end, I’m neck-deep in four wonderful works: Eric Lott’s Love and Theft (1993), Shane and Graham White’s Stylin’ (1998), W T Lhamon Jnr’s Raising Cain (1998), and William J. Mahar’s Behind the Burnt Cork Mask (1999). For sheer style, these books are treats. Each abounds with the literary equivalent of the black/face masculine dash it describes. ’This passage, in all its woozy syntax and headlong rush’, writes Lott at one point, describing how it feels to be taken on some of his own more virtuoso prose-flights. White historians might not be able to jump, it seems, but they sure as hell can kick up a syntactical shindig if they choose.  

Reading this American scholarship is prompting me to think about the reasons that blackface minstrelsy appealed to Australian larrikins, and how this was different (if at all) to its appeal to the white working-class in America. That blackface  appealed to disaffected youths in Australia, many of them from an Irish background, obviously has a lot to do with the way blackness and blackface operated symbolically throughout English-speaking western society. (On this point, Robert Nowatzki has written an interesting article about the appeal of blackface to Irish immigrants to America).

Even with this transnational logic at work, however, it is not possible to make everything said about the American minstrel-show applicable to Australia. Each of the historians I’ve just mentioned see minstrelsy as a way for white Americans to come to terms with abolition, with the consequent troubling presence of free blacks in public places, and the competition for work between black Americans and the white working-class. Obviously, Australia had its own history of violent struggle between Aboriginal people and white colonists. But there was not a daily confrontation and inter-relation between white and black in Australian cities as there was, say, in New York. Australian working-class resentment was directed primarily at Chinese labourers – a fact no doubt influencing minstrel efforts to distinguish representations of blackface from Asianness there.

The combined effect of these things meant there was not the same intensity in Australia to the dynamic Lott identifies in white Americans’ relationship to blackface. He speaks of white Americans’ voyeuristic fascination for black bodies, which built up a kind of Freudian charge from frequent contact in urban places. He also speaks of a white longing to mock and plunder black culture, to steal from it and hobble its power. Neither of these related forms of desire existed with the same forceful immediacy in Australia. As a result, the minstrel-show was never as socially threatening there.

Australian minstrelsy attracted a more diverse audience than its American or English counterparts: it still appealed to workingpeople and the ‘disorderly classes’, but it wasn’t confined to this constituency. Blackface could also be used more freely to signify other things in addition to race: anti-authoritarianism, sexual licence, the pleasures of display and violent release. And in particular, its style was available to Australian larrikins, open for adoption and combination with other influences (that of Irish and Cockney characters from English music-halls, for example) to become part of their own distinctive identity.

The one thing I was insistent about when my eldest was two was that there be no guns. Unlike the other kids, even water guns and the kind you make extending your thumb and pointing your finger were not allowed. My son is now five and guns have made their way into his play. He sees them in the cartoons he watches, on the news, other kids, comic books and the regular kind – Everywhere!

In hindsight, my decision to ban all gun play was irrational and harmful. Keeping my son from a “bad thing” did not prepare him for what to do when that “bad thing” was all around him. I’m jumping the gun here (pun intended), but how is he going to handle a situation where he is 15 and the kids around him are all smoking pot or just cigarettes? In hindsight, my banning the “bad thing” from his life left him unprepared to deal with other “bad things” later on. In my ban I destroyed any opportunities for “teachable moments.”

In hindsight, it was not so much the guns that bothered me. It was where he was pointing the weapon at that concerned me. I hate to sound like an NRA goon, but in this case it was “people that kill people,” not the gun. My ban on guns did not stop him from pointing his imaginary web shooters, iron palms, Ultraman ray (made by simply bending your arm in a 90 degree angle), etc. at the “evil” object or person.

There has been a lot written about little boys and aggression. Some years ago, my wife and I swore by a documentary we saw on PBS called Raising Cain. It addressed aggression issues in boys and talked about the “boy pysche” in the modern world. It made the claim that aggression was natural in boys and that ignoring it or suppressing it could be harmful.

When I read a recent Parental Advisory on Babble, it reminded me of my snap decision to ban gun play and being hit with the consequences of being wrong.

Guns and aggression are inevitable in the life of a 21st Century boy. I have lifted my unenforceable ban on gun play for my boys. I have replaced the ban with talks of proper gun play conduct and appropriateness.