I have seen Terry Gilliam’s film Time Bandits (1981) about a hundred times. I first saw it when I was in grade school and it just sort of stuck with me. About a week ago I sat down to re-watch it with a new set of eyes and my godson next to me who is a near expert in film analysis. What took place was amazing.

 

WARNING, THIS CONTAINS SPOILERS! So if you haven’t seen the film, you can see it here first

 

Gilliam’s film was before its time. He pits the classic forces of good vs. evil against each other in a British, Monty Python sort of way. Time Bandits illustrates the classical issues of:

 

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More quickie reviews, cooled from weeks of neglect:

The simple appeal of the first Hellboy can be found in its paradoxical protagonist: a demon with a gentle spirit who fights on behalf of the good guys. In Hellboy II: The Golden Army, director Guillermo del Toro does almost nothing with this conceit, showing little interest in the interiority of its characters while fanning his obsession with elaborately designed monsters. Like his overrated Pan’s Labyrinth (whose fairy tale atmosphere was patronizing), there is a lot to distract the eye, but little to engage the head or heart. Briefly, fleetingly, the film will seduce you with its majestically dark vision of a supernatural underworld, but this vision is undermined by the silly comic book plotting, which basically comes down to a lot of martial arts-style skirmishing. Still recommended for the memorable appearance of a legless Irish troll, a butt-ugly creation that finds the right balance between humor and terror.

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There’s a kinetic energy to the year 2008. Two years away from accomplishing our first decade as millennials, my generation has gone from Sesame Street, to personal computers, to compact discs, to laser discs, to internet, to DVD’s, to mp3’s to iPods, to streaming video and more.

Yet there’s this beautiful paradox invading this culture, something so profound, so full of depth and hope that it cannot be ignored. My generation has a fascination with history. We possess an unprecedented cultural compass enabling us to recognize what is passing and what is timeless.

Now there will always be Top-10 radio with programmed hooks and profound themes like “I kissed a girl and I liked it.” But delve just a hair deeper into the virtual shelves of iTunes’ music store and you’ll find successful artists like “My Morning Jacket” and Amos Lee who communicate through vintage instruments and timeless stories. While digital production has allowed for minutely close simulations of rock’s foundational sounds such as Fender Rhodes, Hammond organs, and vintage tube amps, a real musician knows there’s still nothing quite like the real thing. Many of these artists are choosing not to use digital enhancers for their vocals or productions in order to offer a more authentic recording to their audiences…and that takes guts.

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Dear Dara Torres,

Thank you.

While I realize Michael Phelps dominated the swimming headlines last week (and I can’t imagine you would begrudge him one minute of his coverage—what he did was extraordinary), you were the person in the pool who inspired me the most.

You’re probably tired of hearing that you are the oldest swimmer ever in Olympic history…but there’s no getting around that fact. You’re 41. In a culture that worships youth, you are a startling reminder that life doesn’t end at 35. Your lively personality, your grace under pressure, your perspective on what it means to compete (how many other swimmers would have asked the referees to hold up the heat because a fellow competitor had torn her swimsuit?), and your passion to go after something even though, at first glance, it probably looked ridiculous (a 41-year-old competitive swimmer!) personified the Olympic spirit.

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I miss the “Up Close and Personal” segments on the Olympic broadcasts.

Remember those? Where we’d be told the story behind the athlete—who they were, how they got there, what made them tick. Sometimes the stories were sad. Sometimes they were funny. Sometimes they were beautifully unique. Sometimes they told the story of a lot of us (well, except for the fact that we didn’t make it to the Olympics).

And they were always inspiring.

NBC doesn’t seem to be investing in these kinds of pieces this time around. Although, as one friend pointed out, with 3600 broadcast hours, it is quite possible the “Up Close and Personal” segments are being broadcast—on the USA network at 3 a.m. I’ve probably not looked hard enough. And yes, yes, yes, I imagine I could find something at NBCOlympics.com like this, but it’s not the same as watching it during the evening broadcast.

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Amidst all the eye-popping grandeur in the Olympic opening ceremonies, one quiet moment stood out.   The adorable Lin Miaoke sang a stirring “Hymn to the Motherland.”   Of course, we could tell she was lipsynching.  Pavarotti did the same thing.   But it turns out she was swapped in for the seven-year-old whose voice echoed through the stadium, Yang Peiyi.  Evidently Yang’s rounder face and buckteeth got her swept aside at the dress rehearsal.  Imagine the heartbreak that accompanied the most famous musical fakery since Milli Vanilli.   As a seasoned pro from television commercials, 9 year-old Lin Miaoke put her charming pigtails to work.  The musical director for the opening ceremonies, Chen Qigang told Beijing Radio, “The audience will understand that it’s in the national interest.”

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I am an Olympics junkie.

I’ve been glued to my tv every morning already, watching Matt Lauer walk through the Forbidden City and paddleboat at the Summer Palace.

A girl’s gotta prepare for Friday’s Opening Ceremonies!

And I enjoy the Games old school—no checking on the Internet for live reporting on who won what or how the medal count currently stands. Nope! I watch the Olympics as they were meant to be watched—delayed broadcast on a national network in the evenings.

Seriously, I don’t want to know ahead of watching the broadcast how Michael Phelps did or if Team USA has overtaken the Brits in the equestrian events. For me, the Olympics are more than just stats on a web page—I want the drama. I want to watch events unfold, and I want to worry and wonder about the outcome until I see it happen. I want to tear up during the medal ceremony because I actually saw what it took for that athlete to get on the podium.

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One of the coolest things about my job at International Arts Movement is that I get a bunch of opportunities to attend film screenings, read advance copies of books, be the first to listen to new CD's before they're even released, and get to know people who are making art that matters, sometimes before the rest of the world hears about it!

So yesterday, my co-worker Kevin Gosa and I attended a screening of Grassroots Films' documentary film, The Human Experience, and I couldn't wait to start getting the word out about it. I don't know when it will be released (in fact, they don't know when it will be released), but they are scheduling screenings all over the country and are graciously giving some private screenings at their place in Brooklyn (which is how we got to see it).

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Okay, I realize the “official” start of summer happened in June.

But for me, summer doesn’t get into full swing until…

(1)    I’ve had a catastrophe with tan-in-a-bottle.

(2) My summer tv shows are back! (Well, unless a show was unceremoniously canceled during the winter…which did happen to one of my summer shows this year…sigh…)

Suffice it to say, item # 1 has been accomplished. And with the arrival of Eureka this week, it’s now officially summer in my household. My other fav summer show, Burn Notice, showed up a couple of weeks ago (and if you haven’t checked this one out—rent Season 1 on DVD. As one critic said, the show is so “freakin’ cool”).

And the poor summer show that didn’t get to come back this year? The 4400. Okay, I’ll admit, it wasn’t always the brightest crayon in the box, but that show had such an interesting premise (4400 people had disappeared through the decades, only to reappear all together—in Seattle, mind you!--without having aged a day and now possessing special abilities) and sometimes how that premise played out (the mystery of the disappearances, government reaction, political maneuverings, the mal-adjustment of those who had returned, the question of destiny) made for provocative and entertaining television.

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