"Metal is about a release. It's a catharsis, it's an emotional form of music, so that is something that is just often overlooked."I’d say that’s an accurate assessment, professor.
There’s been a lot of discussion about the new Flight 93 movie. I’m more of a Netflix guy, so I won’t be rushing out and seeing this one, but I do think I’ll add it to my queue. First of all, the director Paul Greengrass has style. Yeah, the Bourne movies were decent thrillers, but if you saw his Bloody Sunday you’ll know what I’m talking about. That movie, a documentary style retelling of the eponymous riots in Northern Ireland, was riveting not only because of the subject matter, but because of the fly-on-the-wall realism-uber-alles approach. If you’re expecting a Hollywood movie with slow-motion action scenes and a manipulative score, you’re not going to get it. Instead, you should expect more Blair Witch than Pearl Harbor.
Of course, this approach seems to be causing some confusion in the movie-going audience. Hence the Washington Post is there to clear everything up with this story. The big question, as the Post sees it, is this:
How far can a dramatic movie go in imposing its own reality before it distorts the public's understanding of the event? And with memories of 9/11 still vivid and raw, is it too soon for such films to be made?The answer to the second question is easy. For some people, yeah, but whether it’s too soon is such a subjective thing that it’s ridiculous to even ask about it. The first question, though, the first question is a little more complex. How far can a movie go? Only so far.
Any movie, simply based on the fact that it’s a movie, is going to stray from reality. Take your pick. The Ten Commandments, Serpico, Braveheart, JFK. They’re based on real stories, real history, and yet Charlton Heston plays Moses. No one should mistake movies like this for an accurate depiction of what actually happened. They are an interpretation, an artistic interpretation, and Art is slave to more than just Truth. If a movie captures the essence of something, then it accomplishes what it intended and that’s all you really can ask for.
Another uproar that seems frivolous is that over the National Anthem being translated into Spanish. Even my buddy George, who has a Spanish translation of his biography on the White House website, is getting into the debate. El Presidente thinks Francis Scott Key’s original text should remain indecipherable to people who don’t speak English, apparently because he doesn’t want them to get that funny feeling on the back of their neck when they hear those last few words, “the land of the free and the home of the brave.”
Admittedly, I haven’t heard what the Star Spangled Banner sounds likes en Espanol, but I’m not offended by the translation. In fact, I think it might be a good thing. I hate to be the one to point this out, but Spanish is now this country’s second official language. Okay, it’s not official…yet. You can go to the grocery store, the bank, the post office, the laundromat, the mall, anywhere, and the only English word you need to know is dollar.
Maybe all those illegals just need to assimilate, learn English, dammit. Or maybe we should just acknowledge the fact that a Spanish speaking culture lives alongside us, and it’s not just confined to the illegal immigrant community. And it’s not waiting for official recognition from anybody to exist.
As Gnomey G commented on a previous post, there is something wrong with Harvard hotshot Kaavya Viswanathan. Her book is being pulled from shelves. Ouch. Can’t even capitalize on the free publicity. I have no sympathy for the girl. And it has nothing to do with her apparent originality. Reading that article a little more closely, I came upon this:
“Ms. Viswanathan worked with Alloy Entertainment in developing the concept for the book and its first four chapters. But she said Alloy was not responsible for any of the copying. Alloy has declined to comment.”First of all, Viswawhatever is a writer? And yet she worked with Alloy Entertainment, a “creative thinktank” that churns out teen junk at quite an impressive pace. Forty books a year is a lot, but the likelihood that most of it is crap is high. It’s not unthinkable that the copying started as modeling, as one would do after something became a hit (say, Scream, then the rest of the teen thrillers that followed, I Know What You Did Last Summer, Final Destination, etc.), but through sheer laziness and stupidity (she was just a kid, after all) they followed their model a little too well.
Tell you what, though. As an unpaid young writer who doesn’t have a publisher, it bugs me that these hacks get paid lots of money to come up with crap that’s intended to separate a sucker from his dollar rather than add to the literary canon. Have you no delusions of grandeur? No wish for immortality in print?
I do, and though I grovel in obscurity, unknown and unpaid, I’m free to follow my own muses. I don’t have to cater to the fickle demands of the market. I just have to write the best possible book I can, and then I’ll worry about the market.
Speaking of my book…doesn’t Saturday technically count as the end of the week?