First it was 100+ inches of snow. Then the distant pangs of an earthquake from the Flatlands. And the memories of this past diluvian weekend are still fresh in my mind. Also still fresh in my mind is the tasty beer that my new acquaintance Page made me drink on Saturday. He had a little soiree in honor of the washed out Marquette Waterfront Festival or whatever it is called. Page had brewed up some suds for the occasion and it was quite tasty. The first batch, anyway. The second, if I recall correctly, had a different strain of yeast which had gone a bit too far in the whole sugar conversion thing. So it goes. It was a good time nonetheless and I got to chat with a fellow Chicago ex-pat. For her part, The Dulcinea found the place to be a Home for Wayward Eastsiders as she met many denizens of the cool side of town that she knew in her previous life as a social diva and backing vocalist.
Since we'll be moving just a few blocks away from Page, it is comforting to know that I'll have a hoopy homebrewer who really knows where his towel is for a neighbor.
Speaking of beer, the Malt House opens today @ 4! It moves in the space formerly known as the Union House Tavern and I plan to head over there after work to check it out. It's the child of Bill Rogers of the Madison Homebrewers and Tasters Guild. It'll be all microbrews and imports and I'm pleased to announce that there will be no TVs which will be a nice change of pace. Still, I have to wonder how long that will last. With no screens for Badger and non-Sunday Packers games, a lot of people won't give the place a thought on gameday.
Sunday involved beer as well. It was The D's birthday and she opted for a night at Mickey's, it being a block from her place and her new hangout of choice. I am still coming to terms with having lost my girlfriend to the place. It's never been a favorite bar of mine and, now that it has a menu involving truffle oil, it is no longer a dive. Mickey's is certainly not a bad place but it's always had this vibe which rubs me the wrong way. I generally felt more comfortable at Jocko's Rocket Ship than Mickey's. It's surely just me.
Lest anyone think that all I did to celebrate my girlfriend's natal anniversary was to buy her a couple cocktails at Mickey's, let me assure you that this is not the case. Indeed, she will be having an all expenses paid trip to Milwaukee this coming weekend. She'll be enjoying deluxe accommodations at a Comfort Inn & Suites and taking in Onkel Fish's show at Shank Hall. Nothing says love like progressive rock.
Also this weekend I watched Southland Tales, the sophomore effort by Richard Kelly whose first was Donnie Darko. Admittedly, the film was a mess but it was a glorious mess. The Rock (a.k.a. – The Rock) does a great job as Boxer Santaros. I thought he was great as a wrestler and am pleasantly surprised by his acting ability. He may not win any Oscars, but he was a hoot in those mummy movies and he was great in Be Cool. Between his acting ability and his talent at choosing roles that play off of his former career well, the guy is just a pleasure to watch onscreen.
Southland Tales is a very Phildickian story. Indeed, there's a scene where Jon Lovitz's character is pretending to be a cop and shoots a couple people only to say, "Flow my tears…" In addition to the strange characters and the time travel here, the other recognizable homage to the crazed sci-fi author is the portrayal of women. While he may have obsessed over his twin sister who died at a very young age, Dick spent precious little time trying to flesh out female characters. Here we have Krysta Now, a dimwitted former porn star turned media mogul wannabe; Serpentine as playing by Bai Ling basically slithers around showing off her cleavage while smoking a cigarette in one of those filter extender hoolies that duchesses use; and then there's Madeleine, the spoiled rich daughter of a Senator. There are lots of other women characters to be had, such as the pair of neo-Marxist revolutionaries, but they're just caricatures. In fairness, basically everyone here is less than developed because the film is not about characters and how they change – it's more about the plot, the quotes from the Bible and T.S. Eliot, and the symbolism. Besides, this is an ensemble piece. And so I don't mention the female characters as a swipe at Kelly but more of an observation from a fan of Philip K. Dick's work. Still, the film quotes Marx about how social change is only possible with feminine upheaval yet having your story parallel the Book of Revelations means that the messiah is a man, not a woman.
Southland Tales has humor, especially the head of the U.S. government spy agency, USIDent, led by an over-the-top Miranda Richardson. There's a bit of musical with Justin Timberlake as Pilot Abilene, a soldier who became the victim of friendly fire. Plus there's the rendition of "The Star-Spangled Banner" aboard the zeppelin which was almost an outtake from David Lynch's Mulholland Drive. What I could have done without is the lengthy opening sequence and the voice-over narration. VOs just don't work for me 99% of the time and here is no exception. It doesn't ruin the film but it is annoying and made me wish that Kelly had taken the time to integrate that info into the plot. I've read that the film was originally three hours (the theatrical cut is about two and a half) and that, when it was pared down, the Irving the Explainer bit at the beginning was tagged on.
Despite everything, it's a fun movie with lots of bits referring to other films or literature so it's a puzzle, reminiscent of LOST. Again, it's a mess but a glorious one.
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