…and the quest to see everything

Posts tagged “style guide

Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?


Rule number 4 or whatever of blogging – Be careful when you’re blogging while drunk and/or angry. I wouldn’t recommend people to do it because instead of writing seven hundred words for a piece, I end up writing half of that when I’m drunk and/or angry. That, however, often means I get a lot of work done because of either fatigue and just wanting to get things over. Speaking of…repeat after me kids, drunk and/or angry, I’m only one of those things tonight but the characters of Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf are both. I’ve had the chance finally to buy the book since one of my coworkers have, and decided to read it while playing the movie. Not the best idea since there’s a lot of cut, paste and add in the film’s script, but do as I say, not as I do. I haven’t finished rewatching the film, but I’ve fed you kids trash for the past two days might as well talk about a great film, although I’m not sure if I give justice to it.

ph. Warner

I also want to say that I kept imagining Henry Fonda as George, who was offered the role on the play’s first Broadway production. I also want to say that George (Richard Burton) concedes the play to Martha (Elizabeth Taylor). I don’t know why that is. Maybe he plays the calmer host to Martha’s angry drunk host. I’m not gonna say that Burton’s performance isn’t great because I don’t even believe that, but he has the most lines yet it doesn’t feel that way. I will now try to entertain you with the best line reads in the film.

MARTHA (In a so-there, childish voice) Daddy said we should be nice to them.

eta. MARTHA Ha HA! Wonderful; marvelous. (Sings) “Just a gigolo…Everywhere I go,…”

HONEY (Sandy Dennis) He’s not a floozie…he can’t be a floozie..you’re a floozie.

GEORGE And that’s how you play get the guests.

ETA GEORGE Flores; Flores para los muetros. Flores.

NICK (George Segal, who honestly is as good looking as he is young and fit) Where is your husBAND?


Style Guide: (Not) Rating Movies


I rated Fubar II a 3/5, and the TIFF volunteer was looking at me like a small town girl looking at a stranded over-caffeinated New Yorker. If 37 of you have noticed, I’ve never really rated my movies until this year’s festival. Instead I aim to focus on the performances, what elements the director/crew used while making the film, what I can make fun of. In other words, to me it’s more important to eloquently articulate what I just saw instead of putting it within a good-to-bad spectrum.

I also like to think that my perception of ratings are weird. Three our of five for me is a diplomatic mark, four is a diplomatic three, two is a diplomatic one, five is something that I give out on impulse. Reading a three star review is enough for me to see a movie. But then other people think that 3/5 is in the C range in letter grades, and receiving C’s in university have made me doubt my purpose in life. There have also been movies that I like but I can’t help but nitpick, and movies that I dislike but I’m looking at one or two things because I realize that these people, shortsighted as they might be, thought hard on specific aspects of their work. There are movies that I hate now that I used to like when I was in high school. There are also my best movies (Touch of Evil) and my favourite ones (Clueless), my emotional attachment to one or other will upset my rating system. And I guess all this means that I’m not too confident about my tastes, because most people who are too confident with their tastes are stubborn, unctuous dicks.

I’ve written about some movies lately where all I do is talk about screen-caps or scene studies.

I’ve blogged for seven months now, and it still feels like walking blindfolded. I wonder whoever is out there, if it gets easier or not, or if I should actually put a rating for the movies I talk about.


Style Guide I: Do Not Be Armond White


This screencap is stolen. Deal with it.

I couldn’t write the actual rule because it was too long – ‘Do your best not to include the history of cinema while writing about one movie,’ which is pretty much what he does every. Single. Time [Fr.]. And you know, I’m trolling [coll.] for page views so that title seemed more apt for that purpose.

With almost every post here until recently, I check out what other paid film critics say about movies so I don’t unwillingly [d. neg.] steal from them. For “Odd Man Out,” there’s one from either Variety or TV Guide of all places. Then Armond White, who wasn’t listed in RottenTomatoes as a top critic.

You know what? To rehash the Armond White thing is so last year. White’s name comes up every time someone asks who the worst presently working critic. In my pre-blogging, days, I read an interview of his and he said that he disliked P.T. Anderson “There Will Be Blood” because it was pretentious. I looked up his track record and saw that he’s fine, and by fine I mean Pauline Kael-esque. Both, by the way, are notorious for hating movies touted as classics. And if we allow Kael to have a .500 batting average and write books about it, so can White.

Back to “Odd Man Out,” White’s uses his piece on its recent screenings in Film Forum in New York to shit on “Blood,” Steven Soderbergh’s “Che” and David Fincher’s “The Curious Case of Benjamin Button.” And it’s like, why do I have to hear this? Besides, “Che” was passable, “Blood” was fun (call the psych ward if you want) and “Button” pulled on the heart-strings and I saw that on a plane! If I like a movie while seeing it on a plane, it can’t be [pass.] that bad! And [conj.] I liked it not because of the lack of oxygen because everything else on a plane annoys me and I’m inside so my oxygen isn’t lacking at all!

Ok, I’m calm. I also reminded myself that there are exceptions to every rule. If you’re gonna write about a Tarantino film, go ahead and write your head off about the history of cinema. Because it’d probably all be there. But with bending rules you have to only do it once or twice. Like Ron Fair or whatshisname from the Pussycat Dolls show says, one growl per album.

Talking about the history of cinema makes you look like a dick because you’re probably telling the world that said movie is the worst thing ever made, which it’s probably not. And it makes you seem distracted. In doing something well, you must know and do the task at hand.

To remind the 26 of you who pass by, do your best not to include the history of cinema while writing about one movie. I cuss and write like a teenager, and I know to avoid doing that.