I used to watch the Golden Globe Awards. I would sit down and sit through the whole bloated spectacle.
I'm not sure why. Maybe as a Film Fan, it felt like an obligation. I had to sit through the damn show, because I felt like I had to.
Now, not so much. I jumped in and out of the program last night, in between washing dishes and feeding the dogs.
I noticed that for being billed as "the host", my close personal friend Ricky Gervais was hardly in the show. I laughed quite a bit at his introduction of Mel Gibson, however. "I enjoy a drink as much as the next man... unless that man is Mel Gibson." I'm pretty sure that's what he said. Mel reacted well enough.
I like Mel Gibson. I know he hates Jews, and he's a fundamentalist Catholic lunatic, but I can't bring myself to hate the man. I'm glad he's getting out there, acting again. I missed the man.
I remember when I saw "The Passion" in the cinema. It was a Sunday afternoon, and the auditorium was full of True Believers, fresh from their church services.
For some reason, I decided to dress like a Mormon missionary: white dress shirt, black slacks, black tie. All I was missing was the 10-speed bicycle and "the good news".
I sat through the film, marveling at the cinematography (Caleb Deschanel is fantastic), and giggling quietly at the over-the-top violence.
(Spoiler!) When the Jesus died at the end, after Longinus stabbed his Holy corpse with his spear, and the hermaphrodite Devil freaked out, screaming to the heavens because Christ slipped through his/her fingers, I cracked up. I couldn't help it. I had reached a tipping point, and I simply could not control myself.
Everyone, and I mean (Stansfield) EVERYONE!!! (Stansfield) was weeping into their "I 3> Jesus" handkerchiefs, and I couldn't stop laughing.
I remember wearing a similar outfit to a family funeral a few years ago. After the funeral was over, I traveled with my brother and collabo-cousin Ky to a drunken family remembrance function.
On the way, we stopped by a convenience store to buy cigarettes. I walked into the place, and as I approached the counter, the clerk looked me over and said "How's the Good Lord treating you?"
I still laugh about that.
Now what did this massive diversion have to do with anything? Absolutely nothing. But this is nothing new. I mean, the title of this little screed is "A Single Man Sees 'A Single Man' ",and I haven't even mentioned the damn movie, yet.
Hmm... I saw "A Single Man" on Saturday. By myself. Because nobody I know wanted to see a "gay movie".
Fuck them. The film was fantastic.
Colin Firth deserves a Best Actor Oscar for this movie. Hands down.
I was surprised by Matthew Goode. I remember not really liking his Adrian Veidt in the "Watchmen" movie, and I will never see "Leap Year". Never. But his performance here was damn fine.
Julianne Moore was unsurprisingly good.
And that kid from "About a Boy" fucking grew up. That was momentarily distracting.
Tom Ford and cinematographer Eduard Grau shot a beautiful fucking movie. These days, it's rare for me to be really amazed by a movie's cinematography.
Too many films simply look routine. Competent, but not artistic. And then there are the directors who get flashy, trying desperately to impress and failing miserably.
Those fucks remind me of this lame comedian I saw at The Loony Bin some years back. I have thankfully forgotten his name.
He ended his cringe-worthy routine with a bit where he pours an O'Doul's over his head and makes a "funny" face.
Roll on snare drum.
I found it off-putting and pathetic. He made a point to get a separate near-beer from the bartender, so he wouldn't have to pour his precious Bud Light over his empty head.
A real comedian would pour his own beer over his head. And then he'd break the bottle over said forehead and scream relentlessly while his lifeblood streams down his face.
Those mouthbreathers Bob and Tom love this guy.
Look, what I'm trying to say is that visually, "A Single Man" is beautiful. I lost myself in many of the sequences, falling in love with the color choices and composition. I was also surprised by how funny the movie was.
I kinda fell in love with this movie.
(Here's a spoiler) Plus, I love any movie that ends with a suicidal college professor deciding not to off himself, then dying of a heart attack with a naked student sleeping on his couch.
Not since "Pig Fucker" has a film ended so bravely.
Wait, I remember why I started off with the Golden Globes. Colin Firth lost the Best Actor award to Jeff Bridges.
The Dude won.
That's all.
I'm not sure why. Maybe as a Film Fan, it felt like an obligation. I had to sit through the damn show, because I felt like I had to.
Now, not so much. I jumped in and out of the program last night, in between washing dishes and feeding the dogs.
I noticed that for being billed as "the host", my close personal friend Ricky Gervais was hardly in the show. I laughed quite a bit at his introduction of Mel Gibson, however. "I enjoy a drink as much as the next man... unless that man is Mel Gibson." I'm pretty sure that's what he said. Mel reacted well enough.
I like Mel Gibson. I know he hates Jews, and he's a fundamentalist Catholic lunatic, but I can't bring myself to hate the man. I'm glad he's getting out there, acting again. I missed the man.
I remember when I saw "The Passion" in the cinema. It was a Sunday afternoon, and the auditorium was full of True Believers, fresh from their church services.
For some reason, I decided to dress like a Mormon missionary: white dress shirt, black slacks, black tie. All I was missing was the 10-speed bicycle and "the good news".
I sat through the film, marveling at the cinematography (Caleb Deschanel is fantastic), and giggling quietly at the over-the-top violence.
(Spoiler!) When the Jesus died at the end, after Longinus stabbed his Holy corpse with his spear, and the hermaphrodite Devil freaked out, screaming to the heavens because Christ slipped through his/her fingers, I cracked up. I couldn't help it. I had reached a tipping point, and I simply could not control myself.
Everyone, and I mean (Stansfield) EVERYONE!!! (Stansfield) was weeping into their "I 3> Jesus" handkerchiefs, and I couldn't stop laughing.
I remember wearing a similar outfit to a family funeral a few years ago. After the funeral was over, I traveled with my brother and collabo-cousin Ky to a drunken family remembrance function.
On the way, we stopped by a convenience store to buy cigarettes. I walked into the place, and as I approached the counter, the clerk looked me over and said "How's the Good Lord treating you?"
I still laugh about that.
Now what did this massive diversion have to do with anything? Absolutely nothing. But this is nothing new. I mean, the title of this little screed is "A Single Man Sees 'A Single Man' ",and I haven't even mentioned the damn movie, yet.
Hmm... I saw "A Single Man" on Saturday. By myself. Because nobody I know wanted to see a "gay movie".
Fuck them. The film was fantastic.
Colin Firth deserves a Best Actor Oscar for this movie. Hands down.
I was surprised by Matthew Goode. I remember not really liking his Adrian Veidt in the "Watchmen" movie, and I will never see "Leap Year". Never. But his performance here was damn fine.
Julianne Moore was unsurprisingly good.
And that kid from "About a Boy" fucking grew up. That was momentarily distracting.
Tom Ford and cinematographer Eduard Grau shot a beautiful fucking movie. These days, it's rare for me to be really amazed by a movie's cinematography.
Too many films simply look routine. Competent, but not artistic. And then there are the directors who get flashy, trying desperately to impress and failing miserably.
Those fucks remind me of this lame comedian I saw at The Loony Bin some years back. I have thankfully forgotten his name.
He ended his cringe-worthy routine with a bit where he pours an O'Doul's over his head and makes a "funny" face.
Roll on snare drum.
I found it off-putting and pathetic. He made a point to get a separate near-beer from the bartender, so he wouldn't have to pour his precious Bud Light over his empty head.
A real comedian would pour his own beer over his head. And then he'd break the bottle over said forehead and scream relentlessly while his lifeblood streams down his face.
Those mouthbreathers Bob and Tom love this guy.
Look, what I'm trying to say is that visually, "A Single Man" is beautiful. I lost myself in many of the sequences, falling in love with the color choices and composition. I was also surprised by how funny the movie was.
I kinda fell in love with this movie.
(Here's a spoiler) Plus, I love any movie that ends with a suicidal college professor deciding not to off himself, then dying of a heart attack with a naked student sleeping on his couch.
Not since "Pig Fucker" has a film ended so bravely.
Wait, I remember why I started off with the Golden Globes. Colin Firth lost the Best Actor award to Jeff Bridges.
The Dude won.
That's all.
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