Oh my God.  I haven’t written anything of substance on the Stank Nugget in so damn long.  I have so much to BLOG about!  I’ve been suffering from something WebMD refers to as “Blogging Blue-Balls,” or triple B syndrome.

Ok, there’s no name for it, but I’ve been keeping my thoughts pent up instead of airing them all over the internet for the public (for Thor and Nathalie) to read.  And it’s time to get some shit out.  So here we go.

This is supposed to be an innuendo, but it's also foreshadowing for a later post. Yeah, homies, all my entendres be double.

I think this blog may once have involved talking about our lives, and I haven’t mentioned my life since I had my wisdom teeth out.  I guess since then, I’ve worked on a lot of plays, we did Radiothon, and I started eating a lot of ramen.  That’s basically all I can think of.  Let’s talk ramen flavors.

I hear creamy chicken is off the chain, but I’ve never had any.  Somebody hook me up.  In my personal experience, my second favorite is Picanté Beef, which is both spicy and beefy.  Mmmm.  But number one has to go to Oriental.  My friend Matt Dealy, who disagrees, once asked me rhetorically, “Oriental flavor?  It’s not beef, it’s not chicken, what is it?  It’s a mystery flavor.”  And I told him, “Matt, that’s the appeal – the mysteries of the Orient, that dark and unfathomable land of the rising Sun.”  It’s like the British empire in a delicious meal that takes three minutes to make and costs literally 20 cents when you buy it in bulk.  Here’s a picture of me eating ramen while wearing a bathrobe, which is basically what my life is like.  Ok, my life is almost never like this, but if it were, I’d never ask for anything else.

That's my friend Ed, aka the motherfucker who hasn't squeezed out a single blog post since foundation.

Man, I’m hungry right now just thinking about ramen.  You may be thinking, “He means, he was hungry when he wrote it, but I guess he probably isn’t hungry right now.“  Well, guess again, dick-nozzle.  I’m hungry all the time.  So the joke’s on you.  And… sort of on me.

So fall quarter was kind of a bitch but that shit’s behind me now.  My break was a fascinating mix of extremely busy and extremely unproductive.  Like, I never had time to do real important shit, but I accomplished a lot of virtual shit.  Todd and I got an X-Box 360, and it was, like, two days before we aced Modern Warfare 2 and Batman: Arkham Asylum.  Were they both sick as hell?  No.  JUST KIDDING, YES, THEY WERE FUCKING AWESOME!  Games are now like movies.  Good movies.  Get the memo, motherfucker.

You ever earn the nickname "Ghost," you pat yourself on the back.

While my parents were wondering if I was still alive or if I had starved to death in the basement, I also watched a lot of movies.  All right, this blog post is already rambling like a mofo, let’s do some lists. If you don’t want these movies spoiled, don’t fucking read what I write.

Three Profoundly Upsetting Movies

3. Mystic River – Clint Eastwood fuckin’ delivers with this terrific movie about people in Boston whose lives suck.  Netflix says “Tragedy reunites childhood friends Sean, David and Jimmy,” which sounds like, maybe, an uplifting buddy movie.  What it doesn’t say is that once they’re reunited, everything goes to shit.  Kevin Bacon is a detective who could avoid further tragedy by solving a murder, but he can’t figure it out.  Sean Penn loses his daughter and goes on a nutso warpath to murder her killer.  Tim Robbins got raped as a kid and now he thinks he’s a werewolf or something. Crzazy shit.

2. Brazil – As I described it to Amelia the other day, Brazil is basically about a future where everything you hate about modern culture is way worse.  Big cities are more heartless, the government is more invasive, corporate culture is more predatory, physical appearance is more important, individualism is discouraged.  It’s funny at times, and beautiful at times, and in the end protagonist Sam Lowry actually manages to overcome the system and settle down in the country with his love interest.  But oops, it’s just a hallucination as he is tortured into a catatonic stupor.  This movie leaves me empty.

1. Requiem for a Dream – Though I purposely left all his other movies off the list, posterity demands I acknowledge Darren Aronofsky as the most upsetting filmmaker of all time.  Upsetting is, like, his genre.  But in that regard they all pale, as do all movies, in comparison to Requiem for a Dream, which I can almost guarantee will make you want to die.  So four people have lives that are kinda distasteful, right?  And they all think, “Hey, with a little initiative I can turn my life around and improve my lot.”  So they try.  AND THEN THEIR LIVES BECOME UNTHINKABLY SHITTY.  AND THEN THEY GET WAY SHITTIER.  AND THEN THEY HIT ROCK BOTTOM.  AND THINGS COULDN’T POSSIBLY GET WORSE.  AND THEN THEY TOTALLY DO.  That’s basically what it’s like.  If you can avoid killing yourself, it might be a good idea to pop in one of

Three Profoundly Uplifting Movies

3. The Shawshank Redemption - What makes this movie so good is that it spends a long time disguised as a pretty upsetting movie.  Tim Robbins is accused of murdering his wife, sent to a prison to rot, get raped, have his friends die, etc.  But if you walk out of the movie and you’re not feeling like you want to go hug your buddies or build a boat or something, I dunno, you musta fallen asleep.  It’s the ultimate motivational movie.  Even if times are shitty, if you put your mind to it you can basically do anything.  Like, anything.  If you get sent to prison on a double homicide, don’t lose hope!  You could’ve been in Requiem!  You’re fuckin’ lucky!

2. The Fisher King – As a note, this is what got me started on doing this list, ’cause I watched this movie for the first time last week.  Another note, two Terry Gilliam films slide in as the second most depressing and second most inspiring movies I can think of.  Woot.  So this one’s another rough start.  Jeff Bridges (who rocks) is a soulless, rich 90s douchebag, who is indirectly responsible for the murder of eight people, falls from grace, and becomes an alcoholic, poor 90s douchebag.  So he goes to off himself in the Hudson river when he is saved by Robin Williams as a homeless nut-case who thinks he’s a grail knight.  Craziness ensues.  Shit looks bleak.  Things end so fucking happily I can’t take it.  The cast is incredible.  Gilliam is incredible.  Check it out.

1. It’s a Wonderful Life - I mean, look, even the title is cheery and optimistic.  This movie is so cheesy and so predictable and should be so outdated and I totally love it and I don’t care who knows it.  Obviously.  ‘Cause I’m writing it on the internet.  Jimmy Stewart is a G, Lionel Barrymore is a perfect villain, it’s a movie where everything you want to happen happens.  Well, everything you want to happen while you’re watching it with your grandma.  If it was just me, I would want more ninjas to happen.  But I still gotta give it up.  Yay happy movie.

It's a Wonderfully Shitty Life

I feel guilty about putting those two images together.  Like… if Jimmy Stewart knew, he’d be shaking his head in disappointment.

I don’t know that I can stomach the disapproval of Jimmy-Stewart-in-my-head, so I’m going to abruptly cut this post off earlier than I intended to, and think about what misogynistic shit I’m going to write tomorrow.

Jimmy Stewart, don’t look any further.  You wholesome motherfucker, you.

It's a Wonderful Life

I’d already left home to explore the great, wide world when cablevision finally made its way to my parents’ house, situated as it was a fair distance down a dead-end road. The arrival of that technology was just as significant to the household as the birth of the Internet would be some 20 years later.

Before cable, you could watch all of four channels on our cabinet TV, the reception provided by a set of rabbit ears. CBC, of course, because it served up Hockey Night in Canada, a Saturday night ritual as sacrosanct to our household as Sunday morning Mass. If memory serves, there were two other Canadian stations broadcasting from somewhere in British Columbia.

The other station, KVOS, originated from Bellingham, Wash. This signal was the weak sister of the bunch — to see anything other than a snowstorm of static, you had to hold the rabbit ears just so while standing over here, with your tongue protruding from one side of your mouth. Let’s just say it was a strain, both on your patience and your eyes.

But it was also the channel that, every December, broadcast my favourite Christmas movie, the 1951 version of A Christmas Carol, starring Alastair Sim.

I watched that movie religiously each year, no matter how old I was, no matter that the rest of the family, complaining of crossed eyes, drifted away from the fuzzy images flickering sporadically across the screen. The picture quality was crap, the sound wasn’t much better, but it was my personal tradition and I sat there until the very last “God bless us, everyone.”

Cue the passing of several decades, to the point where I’m now living in New Zealand and, even though our TV only receives four channels (hello, deja vu), they are delivered through the satellite perched like a spherical gargoyle on our roof and so the reception is crystal-clear.

In other words, I am now in the perfect position to see every twitch of Ebenezer Scrooge’s greedy eyebrows, hear every word uttered in Jacob Marley’s dying breath.

Except . . .  well, those rocket scientists who program the free-to-air channels in this country have decided not to serve up one of the great Noel delights.

I have no idea why Scrooge is nowhere to be found on my dial. Nor, for that matter, is Ralphie Parker and his Red Ryder BB gun and all the other delicious fun of A Christmas Story (1983), which sits at No. 2 on my Christmas movie list.

Maybe it’s the weather — it is, after all, summer in the Southern Hemisphere — or maybe those people in charge of the signal really do think Santa Clause 3: The Escape Clause is cinema of the highest degree, but the movies slotted in to replace the usual sitcoms and dramas during the holiday season are not exactly inspiring me to roast my chestnuts. Even on the barbie.

The Shawshank Redemption? Because nothing heralds the birth of Baby Jesus or announces the imminent arrival of Santa Claus more than watching men gang-rape each other in dank prison cells.

A Knight’s Tale? Well, I suppose ramming your lance down an opponent’s throat does bear a slight resemblance to ramming bread crumbs up a turkey’s arse.

Mrs. Doubtfire? Man loses children in nasty divorce. Man dresses up as woman to spend time with children. Man sets himself on fire. Pass the gay apparel.

Bridget Jones’s Diary? “Dear self. Just drank 30 glasses of eggnog and ate an entire plate of pickled herring. Why can’t I find a man?”

Phantom of the Opera? “A disfigured genius terrorises the Paris Opera House.” Hope this doesn’t make me spew the shortbread cookies.

The Nativity Story would seem to fit the season perfectly. Except for that one small hiccup where, while doing press for a movie about the virgin birth, its teenage star, NZ-born Keisha Castle-Hughes, announced she was pregnant. “An angel did it,” only works once, sweetheart.

So you can see why I’m not exactly in a Christmasy mood today. I’ve never really adjusted to wearing sunscreen and sunglasses on Dec. 25, but I’d feel better about it if I could watch Scrooge stumble back to his abode while being buffeted by a wind as frigid as his heart.

The bad news is New Year’s Eve isn’t shaping up to be any better of a TV night. Gladiator? So our final memory of 2009 can be of men in leather skirts being dismembered by giant cats?

But, actually, when you consider that 2010 is the Year of the Tiger, maybe that was a wise programming choice after all. Just try not to splatter any blood in my popcorn.

NOTE: Viking Woman’s children have since contacted me to relate how, when they were little, after the presents were open and the eggnog served, she would gather them in front of the TV and the VCR for a little family-film time. The title she chose each year? Better Off Dead, the 1985 John Cusack movie about teen suicide.

Because sometimes even sugarplum fairies have dark thoughts.

Hi,

      Have you heared about “Secret Window”,  Dolores Claiborne, Hearts in Atlantis  or “The Shawshank Redemption” movie? All movies are inspired from novels written by Stephen King. I have started to read “Duma Key” written by same author which  is a psychological thriller novel.

!!! Enjoy Reading !!!

Going to see Invictus made me realize that the onslaught of  big Oscar players had begun. Know this upfront, I am a big Clint Eastwood fan and in general consider his work absolutely great. Of course how can you not with a track record of Mystic River, Unforgiven, Letters From Iwo Jima, and last years Gran Torino just to name a few.

This film begins just as eventual South African President Nelson Mandela is elected. The first portion of the movie deals with the taking of office and setting the stage explaining and understanding the problems of South Africa. The Nations Rugby team isn’t playing all that well, and viewed by the nations black population as a sign of apartheid. So literally the home team was being booed every time out. Mandela decides to use the Rugby team and it’s entrance into the world cup to begin to heal the racial hatred that exists in his country, and everything culminates in the finals match against an unbeatable New Zealand team.

Well, what was my take on the movie? Well, let me say, this is a very entertaining film, and I was never bored with it, but to my disappointment I can’t say that I think this is a Best Picture caliber film. It almost seemed that there was a struggle of what type of film this was, whether it is a political film or an inspiring sports film. With not having a true direction, neither sports or political story were told in enough detail or depth. At times I was wanting more from the political side, but during the second half when the Springbok Rugby team was in the forefront, I felt like I had missed out on character development and the sport of rugby. The only character that was developed at all, was of course the Matt Damon (Bourne Supremacy, Good Will Hunting) Francois Pienaar. I am a big sports fan and know some basic rules about rugby, but when it came to the final match against New Zealand, I wanted to know more details about how the game is played, and extra character development would have helped in in caring and cheering for them that much more in the end. I really wanted Best Picture material from this film and it didn’t quite get that high.

As far as performances, Nelson Mandela is played by Morgan Freeman (The Shawshank Redemption, Million Dollar Baby, Unforgiven). Of course he does a good job playing the character and does everything necessary for the film, but having such high standards for him, this isn’t the best performance by him. Matt Damon also, is adequate for the role, but doesn’t really bring much to the table. Don’t get me wrong, they are not terrible at all, just nothing that si jumping off the screen screaming Oscar.

I normally wouldn’t make to much of a comment about music unless it moved me one way or another. I think Mr. Eastwood as a director should keep more of an open mind when it comes to the score of a film, and realize that his Malpaso piano “interludes” and solo horns don’t work for every film or in the same way it worked for Unforgiven and Gran Torino. You would think that a film about South Africa, you wouldn’t have music that was poignant and soft. Although there were poignant and touching spots in the film, overall I don’t think his music worked well at all. The only point where you hear anything bold was when the Springbok team goes for the 6am run. I definitely would have prefered a soundtrack a bit more primal or native sounding.

Ok, back on a good note. Would I recommend this film to friends, yes, absolutely. It really is an enjoyable film, especially the last 45 minutes when the main focus seems to shift from politics to the Springbok rugby team. It is a feel good, uplifting film that can be enjoyed by all.

5. American History X

Here’s a film I was very reluctant towards watching.  My friend continually recommended it to me yet I thought with a name like “American History X” it would only be boring or another glamorization of our country (my thoughts on it are for another blog).  You could also say I had similar thoughts going into American Beauty, yet I wound up holding it in a fairly high regard.  And wouldn’t you know it?  American History X became an immediate favorite of mine once the credits came.  The film features my favorite performance by Edward Norton, who really hits the ball running during his Neo-Nazi scenes (particularly the lunch/dinner table fight).  Interestingly, however, it’s Edward Furlong who manages to feel more convincing as a white supremacist (though at times it seems he’s just moving along without much care), despite Norton’s near Oscar-worthy performance.  Regardless, the performances by both and the entire cast are nothing less than stellar; and the film’s message still holds strong (if heard several times before).

“Who do you hate Danny?”
“I hate anyone that is a white Protestant.”
“Why? “
“There a burden to the advancement of the white race. Some of them are alright I guess…”
“None of them are ****ing alright Danny ok? They’re all a bunch of ****in’ freeloaders.  Remember what Cam said, ‘we don’t know em we don’t wanna know em.’  They’re the ****ing enemy. Now what don’t you like about them and say it with some ****ing conviction!”
“I hate the fact that’s cool to be black these days.”
“Good.”
“I hate this hip-pop ****in’ influence on white-****in’ suburbia.
“Good.”
“And I hate Tabitha Soren and all there Zionist MTV ****ing pigs telling us we should get along. Save the rhetorical bull**** Hilary Rodham Clinton cause it ain’t gonna ****in’ work.”
“That’s some of the best **** I’ve heard come out of your mouth.”

4. The Dark Knight

The Dark Knight-Yes, I know this has become the most talked about film for the past decade (if not more) and that it’s praised to no end, but this is all with good reason.  Just like Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End, The Dark Knight has a lot of content between the characters and story which pushed the runtime close to three hours for both.  Fortunately, the pacing is excellent and for my first viewing in theaters, I kept saying to myself the same words YouTube user MRBLACK spoke in his review, “I just didn’t want it to end.”  The cast were overall very stellar with the possible exception of Christian Bale when in the Batsuit (and I don’t think I really have to mention Ledger’s amazing performance).  Aaron Eckhart also pulled off his role with ease with the Two Face sections being about as effective as The Joker’s.  I’ll still insist that this is the real Best Picture of last year, not Slumdog Millionaire (which was a good film, but nothing more).  Though we obviously want to see Nolan direct more for Batman, it’s definitely going to be tough, if not impossible to top this for many viewers, including myself.

“Do you want to know why I use a knife? Guns are too quick. You can’t savor all the… little emotions. In… you see, in their last moments, people show you who they really are. So in a way, I know your friends better than you ever did. Would you like to know which of them were cowards?”

3. The Green Mile

Going into this movie, I was almost certain that I would like it and that it would be one to keep me coming back.  Interestingly, this was only the case partially, as I absolutely loved the film but I have seldom given it a full viewing after my first one.  While the length didn’t begin to drag until the last ten or so minutes, it’s still a lot to swallow just like Schindler’s List.  But for a film like this where the execution is top-notch, I don’t mind the length (the cut of Das Boot I own is just shy of three and a half hours, yet it’s right below my Top 20).  Director Frank Darabont has put characters in all his films that we instinctively want to hate.  However, unlike The Mist where Marcia Gay Harden was beyond intolerable, Doug Hutchison as Percy Wetmore felt despicable but not in an absurd form.  There’s a lot to love about The Green Mile, ranging from the excellent cast (Tom Hanks, Michael Clarke Duncan, David Morris, Barry Pepper, Jeffrey DeMunn, Michael Jeter, James Cromwell; the list goes on), to the wonderful score, strong emotions superbly carried out with strong dialogue, superb directing and cinematography; the film has a lot going for it.  Regardless of the low number of viewings, The Green Mile remains a film that will stick with me is the one film that got me to cry for more than a few seconds (try close to three minutes, I felt like such a baby).

“Do you believe that if a man repents enough for what he done wrong, then he’ll get to go back to the time that was happiest for him and live there forever? Could that be what heaven’s like?”
“I just about believe that very thing.”
“I had a young wife when I was eighteen. We spent the summer in the mountains, made love every night. After we would talk sometimes till the sun came up, and she’d lay there, bare breasted in the fire light… that was my best time.”

2. Planet of the Apes (1968)

It was a good while before I finally got around to seeing the original version of Planet of the Apes.  Having seen the remake several times before, I was honestly surprised at how much hate it had attracted; even those who claimed to have never seen the original condemned Tim Burton’s remake.  Finally, my friend and I decided to give the first film a chance over the summer and after the ending, we finally understood the comparisons.  Now, I still wouldn’t say I hate the remake; it’s just horrible when compared to its father since they have little in-common.  The original Planet of the Apes gives us far stronger characters and more clever twists in its reversal roles and, unless you’ve seen the DVD cover before watching the movie, will downright shock you at the end.  Even so, I was still left stunned and silenced by the time we see Charlton Heston slamming the beach sand at the sight before him.  Planet of the Apes is a movie that takes the concept of how truly weak we are as humans for a backbone.  And though it’s fairly implausible, the film still proves a potent point and leads to a wonderful satire of our habits.  By the time it’s over, one can’t help but feel thunderstruck.

“Imagine me needing someone. Back on Earth I never did. Oh, there were women. Lots of women.  Lots of love-making but no love. You see, that was the kind of world we’d made. So I left, because there was no one to hold me there.”

1. The Shawshank Redemption

The Shawshank Redemption-I can’t think of many films that I’ve seen well over 20 times and still never get sick of watching.  But The Shawshank Redemption is such a film and each subsequent viewing only makes me think of and realize more to appreciate about it.  At first, the film barely scraped my Top 10 but before long I simply couldn’t get enough of it.  A huge reason this movie sticks out more than the others is for the two lead actors (Tim Robbins and Morgan Freeman) who both feel as down to earth as any on-screen character is going to get.  They talk and act like us while emitting a vibe that helps them stand out, but not to the point that they feel all that different from any of us.  Connections between the two and the supporting cast feel legitimate with a sense of honesty and compassion amongst all of them (whether positive or negative).  There’s so much to love and admire in the film, despite the fact it takes place almost entirely in a prison.  Anyone who hasn’t seen this movie I highly urge to just purchase and watch ASAP since I feel this isn’t just a must-see, but a must-own to continually view and enjoy.  If all else fails, this is the movie that always manages to help me bounce back from a lousy day.

“I have no idea to this day what those two Italian ladies were singing about. Truth is, I don’t want to know. Some things are best left unsaid. I’d like to think they were singing about something so beautiful, it can’t be expressed in words, and makes your heart ache because of it. I tell you, those voices soared higher and farther than anybody in a gray place dares to dream. It was like some beautiful bird flapped into our drab little cage and made those walls dissolve away, and for the briefest of moments, every last man in Shawshank felt free.”

Shawshankgate?

It is slightly ironic that a show about prison could land it’s Producers in one, but it seems that the Westminster Trading Standards Office are out prima donna-ring the best of us and threatening them with such.  Indeed looking at the enormous whirlwind of bureaucratic dust that has been blown up over the alleged misquoting of Charles Spencer, no one could say the West End wasn’t fabulously over-the-top.

But whilst it’s been funny to watch the WTSO up in arms like mini Mary Whitehouses; “It is not acceptable for any theatre to mislead the public” they say rather officiously (I mean steady on there deary) it’s also a bit worrying.  As Spencer himself points out, this hoo hah is in danger of being used to set a dreaded ‘example’, an example which could end up (after long tedious legal battles) in reviews which are so blandly non-committal as to be worthless.

Even if ‘Shawshankgate’ doesn’t lead to such a disheartening conclusion, it raises the question of just how aware (and responsible?) reviewers should be of possible soundbites.  With friends on both sides of the fence, I know how expected it is to include snappy sentences that can be used on advertising material, although obviously only if the review is good.

It does seem a bit foolish of Spencer to include such a quotable line of praise in the middle of a mediocre write up; he’s been doing it long enough to know someone was bound to pinch it .

Surely you should be able to write what you want but in the light of the over-the-top reaction to the current Shawshank debacle, should we all be keeping one eye on the possible manipulations of desperate marketing men?  They couldn’t use it if we didn’t put it out there.  In the crazy dance of promotion and critic, aren’t we both a little bit responsible?

So this is my new blog, after many times of trying and failing it’s bloody happened! I’m not really too sure what kind of things i will be writing on her but i assume it’ll be a bit of everything. Somewhere to release my frustration…anger…happiness. Anywho, i hope this will be an enjoyable read for anyone you comes across it. I think i’ll have fun writing…

Today in the news i’m slightly confused. Apparently the West End play version of The Shawshank Redemption ‘misled’ audiences by using critics quotes about the film on the advert for the play. This seems to me strange… since when has it been so wrong to mislead audiences? Yes, it’s morally wrong, but have companies ever really cared about this? I thought films in their advertisements always used quotes lets say ‘creatively’ to give a different impression than what was intended. Equally, the newspapers constantly do this! I was under the impression that this practice was somehow accepted nowadays as surely we’ve all grown up to learn to not believe everything we read. If you believed everything then we all should have died about a billion times over. The truth prevails, hopefully.

This Sunday I’ll be preaching on Christ our Hope to kick of Advent season.  I’ll hit Matthew 1:1-14, discussing the hope(s) the Israelites had due to God’s promises to Abraham (Gen. 12) and David (2 Sam. 7).  I’ll talk about the seemingly interminable delay in the fulfillment of those promises.

As is often the case, my mind went back to The Shawshank Redemption.  It is one of my favorite movies.  The movie is essentially about hope, and its ability to sustain a suffering man.  Their hope had nothing to do with Christ, but ours does and is much greater and more powerful (Paul focuses on hope often in Romans).  I’d play this edited clip on Sunday, but there is an inappropriate word near the beginning.  Includes the exchange about hope between Andy and Red after Andy’s time in solitary, and the ending when Red discovers that hope is not as dangerous as he thought, but is really- the best of things.

The Washington Corrections Center for Women doesn’t look much like a prison. The sprawling campus near Gig Harbor, built in the early 1970s, is occupied by comparatively modern single-story buildings. And situated alongside a major secondary road just off State Highway 16, it looks like nothing so much as a community college campus surrounded by razor wire.

Click here to see a video of life behind bars there.

It is the place that Jeannette Murphy has called home since October 1983.

Jeannette is the inmate I’ve come to visit Monday morning as I dash through an apocalypse of rain and check in with the desk sergeant. A moment later my shoes, belt and jacket are off for inspection as a corrections officer waves me through a sensitive metal scanner. All I’m allowed to bring in is a plain white card that can be used to purchase food and drinks in the prison visiting room. I’ve paid $20 for one; I’ve found that good prison-visiting etiquette dictates that I be in a position to offer to buy whoever I’ve come to see a snack or a soft drink or a cup of vending-machine coffee.

After waiting less than patiently in the downpour to pass through a series of electronically controlled gates, I enter the visiting room. It’s smaller than the one at McNeil Island but just as airy and light and almost cheerful, with kids’ toys and books stacked along one wall and a bank of vending machines against another. The room is nearly full of inmates — most of whom are wearing shapeless gray prison-issue sweatshirts and sweatpants — and their friends and family members, sitting at tables and chatting. A few are playing cards; Uno seems to be a particular favorite.

I check in with the visiting room sergeant and am told to wait at “Table 11.” This helps; as with my visit last week to McNeil Island to see Aaron Borrero, I really didn’t know what the person I came to see looked like. All I’d ever seen of Jeannette were photocopies of smudgy photos from her 1983 trial in The Olympian newspaper. They don’t assign you tables at McNeil, however, and Aaron and I had to do some awkward eyebrow-lifting exchanges from across the room before we finally figured it out.

Jeannette came in a few minutes later. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but I had a vague mental image of someone who had been worn away by more than 26 years in prison. Someone maybe overweight from starchy institutional fare, as many of the inmates seemed to be. Someone with lines as deep as irrigation ditches around her eyes and mouth, with hair shot through with gray and iron-gray hardness in her eyes.

Instead, I was greeted by a slim, pleasantly chatty woman with a constant high-wattage smile. She looked no older than her age — 46 — and her black hair had a stylishly short trim. A media friend who knows Jeannette described her to me as “someone who seems like she represents the Junior League,” and I could instantly see what my friend meant. It was clear, too, how Jeannette earned her reputation as a leader among inmates. She’s an active and engaged listener, with nothing sullen or bitter sullying her disposition. I’d read a lot about how she counseled young women entering the prison, and counseled those destined never to leave the system, in their final days.

“I’m everybody’s shrink,” she said, with a bit of a chagrined laugh.

Chagrined because 26 years of listening to everybody else’s problems while keeping her own stuffed deep down inside could well be the reason Jeannette is still in prison. Even her visitors, she said, tended to use their face time with her to dump out their problems and rarely inquire about hers. I told her that in a way, I thought that made sense, that those of us on the outside can’t understand or empathize with life on the inside. And there’s the simple reality that many of us, inside and out, are self-involved and largely unable to see past the things that complicate our own lives.

Jeannette nodded at that. “You know, it’s funny,” she said, in a way that indicated it really wasn’t funny at all, “but in more than 20 years, nobody ever asked me what I did. Or if I did it.”

Ah, that “it.” I should probably touch on that.

In early 1983, Jeannette Murphy was 19 years old, and stuck. She was living in Lacey, a suburb just north of the capital city of Olympia with her parents, John and Elke, and her younger sister Natasha. She had just flunked out of Western Washington University in Bellingham (where I went to school a few years later), had no job, and was about to lose her boyfriend to the Army and a posting at Fort Sill in Oklahoma. But, by all accounts — including her own — the Murphys were a loving, functional, tight-knit family, with nary a hint of abuse. Jeannette wanted to join the Army herself, in a bid to join her boyfriend, and her parents made it clear that they didn’t think that was a good idea. There was also talk that both parents had had extramarital affairs in the past, affairs that Jeannette knew about. That, as far as anyone on the outside knew, was the extent of Jeannette’s problems with her parents.

On the late afternoon of April 22, 1983, Jeannette shot her father in the head with his .357 magnum handgun shortly after he arrived home from his job as the emergency-room administrator at St. Peter Hospital in Olympia, then did the same to her mother minutes later as she returned home from her job as an accountant at nearby Fort Lewis. She then set the Murphy house on fire to cover up the killings, and left to pick up 14-yearold Natasha at school. But the fire was stopped short of completely incinerating the house, and less than 24 hours later, authorities knew the that John and Elke Murphy had been shot. Jeannette denied any knowledge.

As authorities continued to find no evidence that led them to other suspects, however, they began to zero in on inconsistencies in Jeannette’s statements. About three weeks after the slayings, she took a polygraph examination at the Thurston County Sheriff’s Office. When she, in cop parlance, “blew ink all over the walls,” she was confronted with her lies. But she continued to deny any culpability, and left.

From there, panicked, she tried to cash a check, using her sister’s bank account and her mother’s name, but was denied. She then hastily packed a bag, drove to Sea-Tac Airport, bought a plane ticket to Oklahoma City and hours later dropped in on her surprised, estranged boyfriend at Fort Sill. Over the next two days, she confessed to him that she had set the house on fire, saying that her father begged her to after he shot her mother and then himself. She also claimed to be pregnant with her boyfriend’s child. She talked vaguely about leaving the county, either for Germany, where her mother was from, or Mexico.

Instead, the boyfriend persuaded her to stay with friends of his in Portland while she sorted things out. He then told his superior officer, who contacted local police, who contacted Thurston County officials, Two days later, nearly a month after the killings, Jeannette was arrested in Portland. At her trial for arson and two counts of aggravated first-degree murder, she stuck to her story of denying the killings but setting the fire. But the combined weight of her own furtive actions and the lack of evidence pointing in any other direction turned the jury against her, and she was convicted — not, as the prosecution wanted, of aggravated, premeditated murder, which would have carried a sentence of life without the possibility of parole, but just plain first-degree murder. Two counts, along with the arson.

She was sentenced to two life terms plus 30 years, and with good time and parole board approval, she could have been out as early as … this year. But then the state Sentencing Reform Act went into effect in 1984, and in 1990, the state Indeterminate Sentence Review Board (which replaced the parole board) reviewed all pre-SRA sentences and readjusted them to conform to the tougher SRA guidelines. The calculations get complicated, but the upshot is that Jeannette’s earliest possible release date was pushed back 12 more years, to October 2021.

In October 2021, Jeannette Murphy will be 58 years old, and will have spent over two-thirds of her life in prison. In fact, I just realized, it’ll be almost exactly the same stretch of years, over the same time in life, as was served by the fictional convict portrayed by Morgan Freeman in The Shawshank Redemption. Right now, Jeannette is in a peculiar place, sentence-wise. She’s considered to have served her sentence for the arson, was paroled for one of the murders in 1999, and is nearly 10 years into a revised 24-year term for the second slaying. Yeah, it doesn’t make sense to me, either.

It didn’t make much sense, either, to the state Clemency and Pardons board when they heard Jeannette’s petition in late April to be released early. And it was a point in Jeannette’s favor as her attorney moved on to the next point: That Jeannette has done not only good time, but great time. Between those who wrote letters on her behalf and those who actually showed up at the hearing and testified for her, some sixty people painted a portrait of her as a tirelessly sympathetic shoulder and an indefagitably hard-working volunteer. Her infraction record is pretty thin, and several prison staffers came forward to express admiration for her comportment and character.

But then came the counterweights: Her crime, and her perceived lack of ownership over it.

Jeannette publicly denied committing the murder for a long time. In fact, her first hesitant admission came at the 1999 hearing in which she was paroled for the one murder. Since then, she’s been equally hesitant to expand on it. Her attorney, Sheryl Gordon McCloud, who has handled several such cases, tried to smooth it over before the board members by steering them back to her good conduct and good works. “Actions speak louder than words,” McCloud said. But board chairwoman Margaret Smith wasn’t buying in: “I get what you are saying … but I think words are important here, too.”

Her point: Without ownership of the crime — a stated understanding of what she did and why she’ll never do it again in a way that doesn’t sound scripted — board members wouldn’t feel that they could assure the governor that’ll she never do it again. And freeing a convicted murderer from prison is one of the most politically risky things a governor can do. Anybody remember Michael Dukakis and Willie Horton?

So Jeannette had to come up with the words. And, well … she just couldn’t. Not very well, anyway, even though she did manage the words: “I killed my parents.” The most she could say to explain it was this: “The crime itself is unspeakable.” That wasn’t good enough, and she knows it.

And, as we talked Monday in the visiting room, she’s aware that she choked. Part of it, she said, was that she was ill-prepared for the hearing, unaware of the format and the process. And part of it was being unprepared, period. In prison, she explained to me, it’s easy to talk about your crimes with other inmates because they’ve been where you are and “there’s no judgment in their eyes.” (Though, she said, they don’t often spill their guts to one another about their crimes.) But she’s never discussed the murders with anyone with whom she felt there was a risk of judgment. And part of the reason for that is her everybody’s-shrink quality — people come to her with their problems, she said, and she rarely feels with them that she can interject with their own.

In its deliberations, the five-member board zeroed in on Jeannette’s difficulties in accepting public responsibility for her crimes as “the weakest part of her petition.” And then the votes were taken. One board member supported her petition, citing the arbitrary inconsistency of the shifting sentencing guidelines that have governed her time. Another said, simply, “I got to think of the victims here.” In the end, Jeannette’s petition failed by a 4-1 vote. She was invited to reapply in “a couple of years.”

Another reason for why Jeannette choked, she said, is that as a long-timer, she hasn’t had the same access to mental-health counseling that shorter-term inmates have. Not all prisoners get the same privileges and program access. I imagine the state Department of Corrections’ rationale is something like: Why should we invest professional services in somebody unlikely to benefit from them on the outside … because, hello, she won’t be on the outside anytime soon? Then again, who needs help just getting by day to day more than someone who committed an “unspeakable” act? Such as, say, orphaning yourself in spectacularly violent fashion as a teenager?

But she wasn’t offered that kind of help, she told me, and as a result, all she could do was stuff the pain and the unanswered questions deep down inside. For years and years and years. She could occasionally take advantage of group therapy sessions, however, and could sometimes see a counselor (many of whom, she told me, were more interested in pumping her for gossip about other prison staffers than in helping her).

In the mystic and secretive ways of the corrections system, however, a huge silver lining emerged after the April hearing. Jeannette was suddenly given access to a top-tier therapist, with whom she does role-playing in which she reenacts the horrific events of 1983. “He really kicks my butt,” she told me. And, in a way, cooperating with me for the book I’d like to write about her story may be good therapy for her as well. That isn’t necessarily my purpose, of course, but as I sat in the prison visiting room talking and even occasionally joking with her, I realized that I liked her and was OK with the idea that she would benefit in some way from my work. (It’s important to like the people at the center of the story you propose to tell. My late mentor Jack Olsen once told the story of spending nearly a year chasing the story of a federal agent who was framed in a series of rapes in New York City. And while the facts were compelling enough for a good Olsen book, one fact stood above them all, Jack said: “He was an asshole, and I couldn’t write the book because he was an unsympathetic character — both for me to work with and the reader.”)

Jeannette, despite the fact that she murdered her parents, is not an unsympathetic character. You’ll be repulsed by what she did, but you won’t be repulsed by her. It’s an intriguing tension that I think serves her well as the central character or a book.

That brought us a big step forward from our first letters several months before, in which she expressed wariness of the media and seemed concerned that I would be focusing exclusively on the murders and the trial. So, in a reply letter and again on Monday, I reiterated my purpose: “I will not be focusing exclusively on 1983. But neither will I be ignoring it. It’s a vital piece of a larger story.” And I made clear that working together means that at some point, we’re going to have to talk head-on and in detail about the murders, about the arson, about the lies she told in the days and weeks and months and years afterward. And that she’s going to have to tell me why she did it, and that she’ll have to overcome the overwhelming instinct to talk around it.

And she nodded. She understands that. Just as she understands that I am going to interview people who may not have the nicest of things to say about her (as well as a lot of people who do). She understands that I am her storyteller, not her advocate. And, on the other hand, I understand that if my work ends up being used to advocate her the next time she comes up before the Clemency and Pardons Board … well, then so be it.

So, as our time together — nearly two hours — drew to a close, I realized that I had the same feeling with Jeannette Murphy that I had with Aaron Borrero the week before. The feeling that I had chosen well, that I had made a connection with someone capable of digging deep for me — and capable of recognizing that doing so means doing good for themselves along the way. That I had found someone with a powerful story to tell, a story that would find an audience that’s thirsty for it. We shook hands again, agreeing that I would be back to see her two weeks later.

A moment later, I stood in the relentless rain, waiting for the first of several razor-wire-ringed gates to open, feeling cold rivulets of water run down the back of my collar. And I smiled.

Because Book Number 2 is a go.

Okay, okay, let’s get serious for a minute. I have browbeaten today’s movie around the site very sparsely over the past 11 months. A little here, a little there; not that big of a deal in the long run. But rarely in my history of critiquing movies has there been such a backlash from people when I tell them my dislike for something. If I said right now that I think Citizen Kane is bullshit and I had a reasonable explanation, I think I would be let off the hook if I elucidated enough. But if I tell most people that I dislike watching The Shawshank Redemption and I very plainly give reasons why, I would still be looked upon like I just told everyone I had a plate full of mashed potatoes in my underwear. People are emotionally attached to this movie like it hits close to home or something (I was incarcerated for life, too; don’t feel bad!). Admittedly it has a positive message about the power of equality and courage in the face of despair, but it really doesn’t seem as potent of a film as everyone makes it out to be. I’ve now seen The Shawspank Inflation 4 times now, every time feeling exactly the same as the last. So the two logical conclusions I can come to are either

A). I have a heart made of stone

or

B). Everyone I’ve ever talked to about this movie has an emotional disorder.

I think you know which one I’m leaning towards…

The Sweetsnack Resplendence is really the story of Andy Dufresne. We follow poor, completely innocent Andy as he’s put through the wringer of the American judicial system in the late 40s after being falsely accused of murdering his wife. He receives a lifetime sentence and is sent to notoriously harsh Shawshank Penitentiary (Maine is one fucked-up state; every King novel references it, and seemingly not in a good way). There, he quickly finds a niche with fellow lifer Ellis “Red” Redding, a friendly fellow who recently was denied parole at his hearing. The two bond over a number of subjects, and they become fast friends. Andy even makes friends with some of the guards, with whom he imparts valuable financial information, and in exchange keeps his enemies at bay. But his one real problem in Shawshank, besides being in prison, is the Warden, a heartless shell of a man who uses the prisoners for his own devious profit. So most of these prisoners will be here for the rest of their lives, doomed to stand behind the same four gray walls until their dying breath. But Andy has a plan; a plan for escape. It won’t be easy, and it will take many, many years for it to come to fruition, but it will be a sweet, sweet victory if he can pull it off without a hitch.

See, a nice story, to be sure. I never once said The Shortcake Relation wasn’t a well made film. It’s meticulously produced and executed with a wonderful cast that had the potential to make something great. Almost to the letter there is quality in every aspect of this production. Frank Darabont makes another appearance on this site within a single week to get on his hands and knees for the one they call Stephen King. His direction is again nothing to scoff at, and it should be noted that while this probably isn’t his best Stephen King adaptation, his is still a vivid storytelling style that will appeal to the visually minded. It’s a good try, and I really can’t stress enough how much I respect the cast and crew for their efforts.

But that doesn’t exactly translate to something worth your time, so what’s the catch? Well, it’s simply that this is one of the most listless mainstream films I’ve ever laid eyes on. It’s a story of triumph over adversity that is fun for the whole family (except the rape and suicide parts), but it has no zest, no flavor. It’s a boring gray film that emphasizes only how depressing being stuck in a prison in Maine can be. It isn’t even an artistic decision; there’s a huge difference between feeling a character’s listlessness and being bored by the image and everything it represents. It’s just a spectacularly humdrum affair full of muted colors, Morgan Freeman’s droning narration, an unrelenting cloudy sky, and a time period known for its drab conformity and lack of anything stimulating. I squirm from start to finish during The Sharkbait Rotation, and I somehow sat very patiently through all four and a half hours of Che!

It’s also a certain distance between the main character, Andy Dufresne, played by a prime-of-his-career Tim Robbins, and the audience. We’re seeing him through the eyes of Red, played by a prime-of-his career Morgan Freeman, something that would have worked better had Freeman a more intimate knowledge of the guy. Instead, we get sketches of who Andy is and what his motives are while we see them play out on the screen. Some people might argue that Red is the main character, and that we are really seeing his journey through the exploits and times of a younger, more optimistic prisoner. But we know even less about Red than we do Andy, and for a drama set where people are just sitting around talking all day or curled up in a cell thinking about talking, you think that would be easier. We go off of prison yard legends, gossip, and conversations often had on screen about who these people are, when I’d rather just see it happen.

Don’t get me wrong; I can certainly handle my fair share of longer titles, but this one just seems to drag into infinity. Only spanning about 20 years, the film, while over 2 hours long, stretches out in my brain for about an extra 45 minutes. An excellent production brings all these characters to life, but their lives are apparently duller than a prison shank. I wish I could like The Soreflank Indention, but its reality of banality is as painful as it gets, and I don’t wish to be put through it any more. It is a bore of a film that poses the question to me; could you walk out of this movie and find a better one to say what it has to say in a more concise, artful manner, or are you cursed to stay in frown-inducing Maine state prisons for the rest of your life as a thinking individual? I’ve found enough films in my travels to say conclusively that The Skullblank Retraction is a movie that is all pomp and no circumstance. It’s a little bit of some things, but not enough of anything to make it too exciting or memorable or even intensely endearing. I’m sure I’ll be suckered into watching it again at some point next year, with people telling me how good it is and how insane my ambivalence is, but until that time, I’m so done with Stephen King’s incarcerated fairy tale. I give The Stoolsoft Reflection 5 comically misspelled names out of 10, and a hearty bleh from yours truly.

Tomorrow I will see a movie, but I don’t know what it is yet! Send your requests in today, and I’lll make sure you get your voice heard! Until then, folks!!!

Believe what you want. These walls are funny. First you hate ‘em, then you get used to ‘em. After long enough, you get so you depend on ‘em. That’s “institutionalized.” — Ellis Boyd “Red” Redding (below)

I’ve never been in prison, but Red’s words can’t be far off the mark. Confinement will have some effect on the confined. Red was referring to humans but I think the same can be said of wild animals who are put in zoos.

A zoo, for all the wonder it generates in children, is nothing more than a prison for our furry, scaly, or feathered friends. Now, I’m not going to go as far as some and suggest that they be outlawed, but last time I visited one, it was depressing.

Check out this vid taken at the National Zoo in Washington D.C.

In the wild, this deer would be lunch for this lioness. Yet, because she’s been fed like a house cat and not allowed to chase live prey, this lioness can’t even put an end to Bambi and thus enjoy her first kill in who knows how long. The deer did eventually die from its wounds, but I doubt that the carcass was fed to the real-life Naala.

You can hear the crowd cheering for the deer but if yours truly had been there, I would have been the only one rooting for the lioness.

About the only thing “wild” that lives on in this lioness is the reluctance to jump into deep water.

Like Brooks, who Red is describing, it’s safe to say this magnificent lioness has been institutionalized.

Here’s the story the vid came from:

Tragic end for the zoo deer who leapt into a lion enclosure

What is this? A screenplay that thinks it’s a novel or a novel that thinks it’s a screenplay? Somehow the distinction has been blurred here, because never before have I seen such florid prose in a screenplay.

And what is this? A movie that thinks it’s a novel or a novel that thinks it’s a movie? Somehow the distrinction has been blurred here, because never before have I seen a movie that’d work almost as well as an audiobook.

I’m being facetious. The Shawshank Redemption frequently appears at the top of Favourite Movie of All Time type lists and for a good reason: it’s a great movie. We’ll come back to what makes it a great movie in a bit, but for the time being let’s get back to the script. After all, that’s what we’re doing: looking at scripts.

The Shawshank Redemption is an adaptation of a Stephen King novel, and it shows. I’ve never read the novel, so I can’t comment on how closely writer Frank Darabont’s prose matches King’s, but I contend that I could give a copy of this script to pretty much any book lover and they’d read it through in one sitting. And enjoy it.

The whole thing works like a book with moving pictures. It’s riddled with narrative voice-over. The scene descriptions are detailed, prose-like. Apart from that it’s a straightforward linear script with one thing happening after the other. Only twice does it use flashback to build the story; once at the very beginning and once near the end. And only once does the narrative split into two branches rather than one. This script is straightforward storytelling.

So the strength of this script is in the story. Sounds like a dumb thing to say, doesn’t it? Aren’t all scripts about the story? Nope. Was Jaws about story? No, it was about primeval horror and gut reaction. Was Transformers about story? No, it was about giant robots smashing the crap out of stuff. Was Couples Retreat about story. No, it was about…actually, nobody’s quite sure.

The story is constructed around what is basically a series of challenges for the hero. We’re talking Seven Labours of Hercules here, folks. Andy, the quiet hero is unjustly imprisoned. Shall we say cast into the underworld? There he faces monster after monster. He’s not strong enough to defeat them by sheer force. In fact, he has to submit to them for a time. But he never gives in, never gives up hope. Slowly and surely by dint of greater intelligence and sheer willpower he defeats them. One by one.

There are several themes in the script that parallel Andy’s long ongoing struggle and refusal to lie down and die. The chess set that he carves from scratch using the semi-precious stones that he finds in the prison grounds, for example. The accumulation of these chess pieces represents the duration of Andy’s incarceration. But they also represent his tenacity and his attention to detail. Consider also the way he constantly fights The Sisters, a gang of rather two-dimensional prison rapists. Even if it means weeks in hospital for him, he always fights back. Andy is a living breathing example of What Doesn’t Kill You Will Make You Stronger.

In fact, the closer you look the more you realise that this script is utterly thick with metaphor. I won’t go into detail but for those of you who have seen the film, look at Jake the crow (it was a prisoner too), the polishing of rough stones (Andy teaching the doomed illiterate Tommy), the rock hammer (it’s small but it does the job eventually – yes, Andy is the rock hammer, the rock hammer is Andy), Red’s harmonica in its unopened box (box=prison, box=coffin, prison=coffin) and so on.

For me Shawshank was a pleasant read. It didn’t blow me away with groundbreaking screenwriting creativity. It didn’t go anywhere new with structure or style. It just took a classic story approach and made it as good as it could possibly be. And who’s to argue with that?

So what makes Shawshank a great movie? First of all, I’ll qualify that statement. It’s not a great movie for everyone. Some people find it too long. Some people don’t or can’t empathise with the characters. Some find the voiceover narration annoying. Let’s face it: some people would rather see Vin Diesel driving a bikini-clad blonde through muscle-car lined streets or Obi-wan Kenobi waving his glowing rod around. No, Shawshank isn’t for everyone.

But I think it’s a great movie because it triggers some bigtime emotional reactions. It’s got hope written all over it. It’s heavy on the railing against injustice. It’s got a strong dose of overdue revenge. It’s got a quiet, determined hero who everyone can project themselves onto. It underlines everything your parents told you: never give up, do the right thing, be strong in the face of hate, justice will prevail. Oh, and revenge is sweet.

If you can avoid the sensation of being cynically manipulated then you can probably sit back and enjoy the movie. Cry a bit. Cry a lot. Come out at the end feeling reborn and harbouring a desire to buy a small hotel on the coast.

But if you’re one of those people who don’t, for example, understand what all the fuss is about X Factor (why are those people screaming? why is she crying? why are you crying? it’s only singing, for godsake!) then you’ll probably get a bit bored halfway through Shawshank and shuffle off to do something more interesting, such as hoovering behind the sofa or cleaning the spokes on your bicycle.

SPOILER ALERT! I’ve avoided giving too much of the plot away, but if you read the next bit below then I might be spoiling it for you if you’ve never seen the film.

…

…

…

SPOILER ALERT…

…

…

…

I’ll leave you with an interesting thought. What if Andy did kill his wife and her lover? We never see the murders. Andy could have changed his mind, gone in there, shot them, reloaded, shot them some more. A crime of passion. Unlike him, I grant you, but he did lock the prison guard in the toilet so he could play Mozart across the prison PA. He knew it’d get him solitary, but he did it anyway.

I know that Tommy explained who the murderer was and how it happened. Could Andy have briefed Tommy with that story?

I only raise this question because of the way Shawshank so shamelessly manipulates our emotions. What if the wool was being pulled over our eyes in the same way that Andy fleeced Norton? What if Andy deserved to be in prison? We naturally assume that he’s innocent, we naturally side with him rather than the showy prosecution lawyer and dumb-fuck jury. What if that is just another layer of manipulation?

I’m probably reading way too much into the story here, and I’m sure greater minds than mine have chewed this idea into the ground long since. But hey, it’s food for thought.

This film is a masterpiece . Not much more to say about it. Who can forget Morgan Freeman and Tim Robbins performances in this. Some superb music tracks and just a brilliantly done film. Other people were offered the role of “red” according to IMDB but you just can’t imagine anyone else than Morgan Freeman playing this role perfectly. I wonder how many prisoners in jail right now, have actually seen this and cried? Or more importantly how many have a pet bird ?

Memorable film quote

“I have no idea to this day what those two Italian ladies were singing about. Truth is, I don’t want to know. Some things are best left unsaid. I’d like to think they were singing about something so beautiful, it can’t be expressed in words, and makes your heart ache because of it. I tell you, those voices soared higher and farther than anybody in a gray place dares to dream. It was like some beautiful bird flapped into our drab little cage and made those walls dissolve away, and for the briefest of moments, every last man in Shawshank felt free.”

ManCry star rating ********* 9/10

And heres that song by the way….

(if you are listening to this at work and someone says im warning you turn this off… just put your feet up and smile )

Comme j’adore le mois d’Octobre, l’Halloween et les films d’horreur, j’ai décidé de faire le premier Horreur-o-thon des Bipolaires! En effet, j’écouterai un film de peur par jour jusqu’au 31, alors revenez lire mes critiques quotidiennes…si vous en avez le courage! MOUAHAHAHAAA!

————

The Mist est la 4e collaboration entre Frank Darabont et Stephen King (The Woman In The Room, The Shawshank Redemption et The Green Mile…trouvez l’intrus).  Dans ce film de science-fiction psychologique hautement efficace, David Drayton, un peintre père de famille, part à l’épicerie du coin avec son fils afin de restocker ses provisions après une tempête violente.  Arrivé là-bas, un homme en panique fait irruption et avertit la foule qu’un brouillard mystérieux s’empare de la ville…et que quelque chose dans ce brouillard a tué son ami…

Bien que le film n’hésite pas à montrer ses bébittes fantastiques et cauchemardesques (des araignées géantes qui lancent une toile d’acide!), la terreur du film vient d’avantage du climat de tension parmi la foule du magasin.  En effet, les personnalités s’opposent quand les esprits sceptiques décident de quitter le refuge et que Mme Carmody, une fanatique Catholique cinglée, tente de convertir le reste.  Ainsi, Darabont dépeint une atmosphère de plus en plus hostile, opposant les thèmes de religion et de fanatisme avec ceux de la science.  De plus, le film porte un regard sur l’instinct de la race humaine et ce qui arrive lorsque l’Homme s’en remet à celui-ci.

Bref, les performances engageantes, l’action continuellement intéressante, les monstres terrifiants et la finale inattendue font de The Mist un des classiques du genre.

Note finale: 9/10

———-

Meilleure citation: “The day I need a friend like you, I’ll just have myself a little squat and shit one out.” (Qui d’autre voulait pousser Miss Carmody dans le brouillard en fêtant?)

Meilleure mort: Où commencer? Un homme coupé en deux, un autre en flammes, une jeune femme qui se fait piquer par un méga-moustique dont le visage gonfle grotesquement…

Y’as-tu des tits?!: Si je sentais ma mort approcher, je sais ce que je ferais, mais malheureusement, le seul couple du film ne va pas jusque là et tout le monde garde son linge.

Saviez-vous que…: En tant qu’admirateur de Drew Struzan, la première scene où le studio de David contenant tous ses posters se fait détruire a été plus difficile pour moi à regarder que le bout où quelqu’un se fait couper la jambe par de l’acide.  Oui oui.

I never thought Micheal Clarke Duncan could captivate me so much.

Adaptation of Stephen King’s supernatural tale is set on death row in a Southern prison, where gentle giant John Coffey (Michael Clarke Duncan) possesses the mysterious power to heal people’s ailments. When the cell block’s head guard, Paul Edgecomb (Tom Hanks), recognizes Coffey’s miraculous gift, he tries desperately to help stave off the condemned man’s execution.

This film is directed by Frank Darabont, the same person who did The Shawshank Redemption, and once again he’s back in prison. Though that film was about mostly the prisoners this one is more about the guards and how the prisoner influences their lives. This is more of a fable than it is a real novel.

For the biggest disclaimer of this movie is that it’s way too long. Personally I’m not bothered by how long films are as long as their at least interesting and holds my interest, this film doesn’t quite do that. The film felt a little dragged at points, and really I don’t think it felt over 3 hours to tell the story of a prisoner. This film is very interesting by the last 30 minutes but the others 2 hours are just long side notes.

I also felt that the film was trying hard to show us a message about either suicide or how wrong the death penalty is. I felt like both sides were argued pretty evenly, I felt like this movie’s theme caused much more combustion, than it needed. The pace also adds insult to injury with it’s very slow storytelling and many key moments that take long to deliver.

Other than the those problems, I felt like this was one of the most touching films I have ever seen. The great thing is how you see all of these people on The Green Mile. From the gaurds to the prisoners, and also to the houses they live in. You really do get a full idea of how these people act and live by this movie and it connects us to these characters even more.

The added supernatural moments add a lot of emotion to this film, as you sense that Clarke Duncan character is really a good person. I also enjoyed how the whole film wasn’t so centered on him but the other prisoners with him on The Green Mile.

The star-studded cast does the best job in this film and does save this film from some bad moments. Tom Hanks does a really strong job, and doesn’t play his usual energetic performers as he always seems relaxed throughout the film and adds a lot more of heart to the film. Micheal Clarke Duncan is really the main reason to see this film as he steals every scene he is involved in. Clarke Duncan combines the physical look of big, strong, and scary but puts it along with much sweetness in his character where you know this person is kind at heart and you connect to him even more than any other character in this film. Sam Rockwell and David Morse also show off a lot of talent in this film.

Consensus: Though jumbled with a slow pace and a very long time limit of over 3 hours, The Green Mile is a captivating story that has touching performances that add to this emotionally powerful experience.

7/10=Rentall!!

Vad ska jag säga, detta är en av de bästa filmer som någonsin gjorts. Oavsett man gillar handlingen eller ej, är lämnar filmen någon oberörd. Ett starkt budskap och en fantastisk Freeman – att denna historia är något alldeles speciellt går inte att ta miste på.
Har du inte sett den tycker jag att du ska göra det en höstkväll som denna, och har du redan sett den förut vet du antagligen hur bra den är, se den igen.

We sat and drank with the sun on our shoulders and felt like free men. Hell, we could have been tarring the roof of one of our own houses. We were the lords of all creation. As for Andy – he spent that break hunkered in the shade, a strange little smile on his face, watching us drink his beer.

En av mina favoritfilmer, någonsin.

When you have time off to do what you want, sometimes the days seem to crawl by. But before you know it – you’re at the middle of October. When we watch a film that really gets to us, we no longer notice time. It passes, as it always does, but our attention is elsewhere as we are immersed in the events onscreen.

On the other hand, you have nothing but time on your hands if you are in prison. Morgan Freeman, portraying the convict “Red” in The Shawshank Redemption had this memorable line:

“They march you in naked as the day you were born, skin burning and half blind from that delousing shit they throw on you, and when they put you in that cell, when those bars slam home, that’s when you know it’s for real. Old life blown away in the blink of an eye. Nothing left but all the time in the world to think about it.”

Idle time may generally lead to activating your imagination. The natural occurrence that follows is an escape into a dream world or fantasy. Tim Robbins, who had the lead in Shawshank as Andy Dufrense, had his own way of dealing with time. He held on to hope. The theme of the film, as stated on the poster is: Fear Can Hold You Prisoner. Hope Can set You Free.

Later Andy tells Red that hope is how he made it through solitary confinement.

But Red says that hope is a dangerous thing, which can drive a man insane. As the film heads toward its conclusion, Red has changed his mind, and makes another memorable speech:

“I find I am so excited I can barely sit still or hold a thought in my head. I think it’s the excitement only a free man can feel, a free man at the start of a long journey whose conclusion is uncertain. I hope I can make it across the border. I hope to see my friend and shake his hand. I hope the Pacific is as blue as it has been in my dreams. I hope.”

The Shawshank Redemption (1994) was an exceptional film, and its depiction of how hope saved a few men is truly memorable. Cool Hand Luke (1967), and Apocalypse Now (1979) are noteworthy as well. In these pictures, men are not saved, but nonetheless, they are able to get to a place mentally to alleviate the stress of where they are physically.

In Cool Hand Luke, the prisoners work on a road gang during the day, and there’s no time for dreaming while at work. But one day they get to watch as a girl from a nearby house comes out to wash the car.

This scene became famous in movie annals. As she tantalized the convicts with her soaked dress and lush body, they shared a group moment, as their reality became a fantasy, and time stopped for them. They were hoping for a peek at more skin than she was already displaying:

“She ain’t got nothin’ but … nothin’ but one safety pin holdin’ that thing on. Come on, safety pin, POP. Come on, baby, POP!”

In Apocalypse Now, set during the Vietnam War, Army Captain Willard, played by Martin Sheen, must make his way up river, with his Navy patrol boat crew, to first locate Walter Kurtz. Colonel Kurtz, portrayed by Marlon Brando, had said,

“We train young men to drop fire on people. But their commanders won’t allow them to write ‘fuck’ on their airplanes because it’s obscene.”

Kurtz’s command in Cambodia was an embarrassment to the government, so Kurtz was to be terminated with extreme prejudice by Willard. In short, killed.

Willard dealt with his fears and inner conflicts as new nightmares became a daily event on the river, whether it might be the gung-ho Air Cav Lieutenant Kilgore (”I love the smell of napalm in the morning!”), played by Robert Duvall, or the threat of a VC attack, or the overriding insanity and hypocrisy of Willard’s mission.

And while the miles and days slowly inched by, time seemed unimportant. Willard’s hopes and fears surfaced often and he shared his thoughts with us:

“How many people had I already killed? There was those six that I know about for sure. Close enough to blow their last breath in my face. But this time it was an American and an officer. That wasn’t supposed to make any difference to me, but it did. Shit … charging a man with murder in this place was like handing out speeding tickets in the Indy 500. I took the mission. What the hell else was I gonna do?”

So what ties these three films together besides time and fear and hope? In all three movies, fantasy women make an appearance.

Whether it is The Playboy Playmates, that Captain Willard finds performing for the troops way up river on his journey into the heart of darkness, or Joy Harmon’s car-washing scene which has been replayed in the dreams of millions and millions of men for nearly 40 years, or the posters of Rita Hayworth and Raquel Welch which adorned prisoner Andy Dufrensne’s cell and hid the direction of his hopes, it is easy to conclude that men need their fantasy women.

And me, I’m no different. But I don’t mind sharing them with you. So we hope you will fire up your computer and come this way often. As this is a place to find some women who I hope will become etched in time, and so, they too will become a part of your next fantasy.

]]> http://chikalearntospeak.wordpress.com/2009/10/04/titanic-two-the-surface-sequel/ Sun, 04 Oct 2009 11:19:49 +0000 chika http://chikalearntospeak.wordpress.com/2009/10/04/titanic-two-the-surface-sequel/

First time I heard about this movie when my brother one day take a video trailer from his friend and tell me that this video is the sequel of Titanic. It’s about 3 month ago. I was so surprised and I can’t wait to watch that trailer. It’s so interesting you know… I’m a big fan of Titanic. So hearing this news make my heart was jumping.

In Titanic 2, Jack Dawson (still played by Leonardo Di Caprio) was found frozen near wreckage of the titanic and brought to surface. He come back from dead and runaway to the new modern world that he never knew before. All the people who he knew had gone, especially the one he really love (Rose). Jack was so depressing. He don’t know what to do. Like the tagline “As one journey ends, another begins…”.

The soundtrack still ‘My Heart Will Go On’ by Celine Dion but with different version. It’s so interesting right. After I finished watching the trailer, I was trying to get everything about the news. And I found something weird. I don’t know, it’s just there is something wrong with this movie. This is the sequel of Titanic, right. And Leonardo still in there. But why there are no any big promotion about this movie.

And when I was searching on youtube about this, I finally found that this trailer was fake. I was sooooo disappointed. I really wish too much about this movie will coming out and I really can’t wait to watch that movie. I’m dreaming of it everyday, but now I feel sad.

I don’t recognize before that the trailer is edited from some other movie, until I read the comment on youtube. Like Titanic, The Abyss, Demolition Man, Austin Powers, The Basketball Diaries, Hulk, In the Mouth of Madness, Romeo + Juliet, Escape from Alcatraz, The Shawshank Redemption, Con Air, Se7en, The Interpreter, Catch Me If You Can, etc. The way it mixes together makes it look fantastic, it rolls from scene to scene. It’s so amazing. I thought this would make a really great movie.

So here is the trailer, watch it and how do you feel about it? Do you think it’s gonna be the great movie if the sequel really made?