Dreams In the Sick-House

[handful_ofdust]

Second day of quarantine, though I think we’ll have to break it later in the afternoon to take back Pontypool. Which reminds me: I’ve been checking my lists, and have noticed an interesting trend—more “partially” watched movies this year than last year, ie I’ve rented things and then returned without watching them all the way through, because I couldn’t engage enough with them to waste even one more hour/half-hour on finding out whether or not they improved after a certain point. I’m not sure if this discovery should impress or depress me; like most of my recent behavior modifications, it’s certainly very utilitarian, and that’s not all bad. But I do sort of feel like some romantic notion I had about film in general has been finally put paid to; I’ve broken the unspoken social contract between filmmaker and audience-member, and on closer reflection, I find I just don’t feel all that bad about it. I mean, I’ve probably already seen upwards of six thousand films in my life, and I’m only going to live another forty years—I have to budget my time, man. I have shit to do.

(Not that that happened with Pontypool, BTW—I watched it from start to finish with increasing fascination, and liked it better than any Bruce Macdonald film I’ve seen since Hard Core Logo. Though I haven’t rewatched it once, in the interim…but OTOH, that’s really due to me obsessively re-watching the Watchmen Extended Cut, more than anything else.).

The other thing I forgot to mention is that Kings Season Only came to an official end on Sunday. It was a bittersweet hour, but one which provided a fair amount of closure, and confirmed that this was a series which really only needed a certain amount of nuturing in order to flower like some goddamn oasis of beautiful smart in a vast, blank desert of ugly stupidity. The pity is that—like so many other, equally great narratives whose creators misjudged whether or not they were suitable for “national network television”—it simply didn’t get it. And yeah, I’m sure there are those who would judged it as being too full of the double-edged “f” and “l” which is Unhappy/Dead Gay Person Syndrome and Dead/Magical Negro Syndrome for their praise or their commitment, but those people can frankly bite me; I’d love it for the rich, full, interestingly un-“sweet” roster of female characters alone, if I didn’t love it just as much for oh so much else.

And yes, we did at least finally get to see Silas Benjamin get bitch-slapped by an angry God, in gloriously dramatic fashion. Though, being Ian McShane, he immediately turned around and yelled: “Well, screw You!” right on back. Declaring war on the deity who got you king-made? Probably not so smart. Pretty damn kingly, though…

David’s got a lot to live up to.

P.S., as of 12:45 PM: Words added to A Book of Tongues = 560 thus far, which represents roughly two pages of notes; many more to go. I think Mister Flip and I will take our exercise.

Comments

[rispacooper.livejournal.com]

I have to say that as someone who used to work in a video store, most video store employees reach a point where they start to watch movies and then either fast-forward through the crap or just turn them off.

There's so much to see and if the movies don't engage you than the filmmakers broke the contract first.

[handful-ofdust.livejournal.com]

Yeah, after a while, you know all the formulae pretty well--especially so when you're operating in a genre like horror, where formula/ritual is king, and the exception proves the rules. But still... (sighs)

[theengineer.livejournal.com]

I was very impressed with Pontypool, and hope they get to make the sequels (Pontypool Changes, and Pontypool Changes Everything).

[handful-ofdust.livejournal.com]

Man, I can't even begin to think what might happen in those! It's scarier than the film itself.;)