Noah Berlatsky makes an excellent observation about the nature of Quentin Tarantino's films:
Discussions of Tarantino's work usually reduce him to an obsessive movie fan. His films are an excuse to show off what he knows, the argument goes; at his best he merely reproduces the stylistic tics of his heroes. So for Denby, when Gordon Liu comes off as "a prancing little snit" it's a mistake -- martial arts masters should be treated with respect, right?
But in fact Tarantino's refusal to fulfill genre expectations is the reason to watch him. He doesn't want to make a Hong Kong action movie or a blaxploitation flick; he wants to have a conversation about one. And that's what his movies seem like: long, dramatic arguments with other filmmakers and other films. For me the most enjoyable part of Jackie Brown was Tarantino's treatment of Robert De Niro, whose inept, henpecked bad dude took the piss out of decades of macho posturing -- this guy, Tarantino seems to say, is just another honky who wants to be tough. Likewise, in Pulp Fiction the thugs so celebrated by Scorsese and Coppola are presented as sitcom buffoons.
I've never thought about it in those terms, but this may be one of the primary reasons I like Tarantino -- and, for that matter, why I like Andy Kaufman. It amuses me when anyone frustrates audience expectations. The joke is on us.
Remember Tom Green's movie Freddie Got Fingered? By almost every account, this was a horrible film; I don't think I read a single positive review. But I had fun seeing it in the theater, watching the discomfort and revulsion of the other members of the audience. Tom Green's comedy works on TV because we get to laugh at him annoying unsuspecting people on TV. I think people hated the movie because they were no longer in on the joke -- they were the joke. Tom Green was annoying them. So I think the movie only worked for people who realized this and were suddenly in on the joke again -- getting to watch Tom Green annoy unsuspecting people in the audience who didn't realize that this time they were the objects of ridicule. Suckers.
I don't think I'd enjoy watching it at home, though, because I can't laugh at other audience members if I'm the only one there...
Discussions of Tarantino's work usually reduce him to an obsessive movie fan. His films are an excuse to show off what he knows, the argument goes; at his best he merely reproduces the stylistic tics of his heroes. So for Denby, when Gordon Liu comes off as "a prancing little snit" it's a mistake -- martial arts masters should be treated with respect, right?
But in fact Tarantino's refusal to fulfill genre expectations is the reason to watch him. He doesn't want to make a Hong Kong action movie or a blaxploitation flick; he wants to have a conversation about one. And that's what his movies seem like: long, dramatic arguments with other filmmakers and other films. For me the most enjoyable part of Jackie Brown was Tarantino's treatment of Robert De Niro, whose inept, henpecked bad dude took the piss out of decades of macho posturing -- this guy, Tarantino seems to say, is just another honky who wants to be tough. Likewise, in Pulp Fiction the thugs so celebrated by Scorsese and Coppola are presented as sitcom buffoons.
I've never thought about it in those terms, but this may be one of the primary reasons I like Tarantino -- and, for that matter, why I like Andy Kaufman. It amuses me when anyone frustrates audience expectations. The joke is on us.
Remember Tom Green's movie Freddie Got Fingered? By almost every account, this was a horrible film; I don't think I read a single positive review. But I had fun seeing it in the theater, watching the discomfort and revulsion of the other members of the audience. Tom Green's comedy works on TV because we get to laugh at him annoying unsuspecting people on TV. I think people hated the movie because they were no longer in on the joke -- they were the joke. Tom Green was annoying them. So I think the movie only worked for people who realized this and were suddenly in on the joke again -- getting to watch Tom Green annoy unsuspecting people in the audience who didn't realize that this time they were the objects of ridicule. Suckers.
I don't think I'd enjoy watching it at home, though, because I can't laugh at other audience members if I'm the only one there...
Check it out -- my little sis with brand-new baby Noah:
My sister was broadsided in a car wreck last week, so it's amazing both she and the baby are fine. The car, I'm told, is much, much worse...
I get to spend 9 days with them next month!
My sister was broadsided in a car wreck last week, so it's amazing both she and the baby are fine. The car, I'm told, is much, much worse...
I get to spend 9 days with them next month!
My mom's sister was on Adult Swim on Sunday night. How cool is that? If you watched that night, you probably noticed all the mothers' day photos -- pics of the moms of Adult Swim staffers. My aunt's photo came on right after The Ripping Friends ended...
I'm an introvert. That's probably not very rare in an online community like this, where the interface acts as a natural buffer between participants.
But I'm the kind of guy who takes books to parties where I don't know many of the other guests, prepared for the very real possibility that I'll spend long stretches of time disengaged from conversation entirely. And even when I end up talking with a group of people, it always seems to me like I'm more involved in the conversation than I really am -- actively caught up in the flow of what others are saying, only realizing later that I didn't contribute much in the way of real, actual words to the discussion.
I've consistently tested as an INTP in the dozen or so times I've taken versions of the Myers Briggs Type Indicator test in the past 15 years, whether or not this actually indicates much of practical value. But the personality traits the INTP designation comprise seem to describe me pretty well.
To sum it up, I like to watch. Whatever it is that I find interesting, I tend to stand back and observe. Participation, on the other hand, always gets short shrift.
A little over a year ago in The Atlantic Monthly, Jonathan Rauch (introvert extraordinaire) provided a glimpse into some of the whys and wherefores of introversion, including Sartre's quip that "Hell is other people at breakfast." I particularly dig this observation that, try as they might, extroverts just don't get introverts:
"Extroverts are easy for introverts to understand, because extroverts spend so much of their time working out who they are in voluble, and frequently inescapable, interaction with other people. They are as inscrutable as puppy dogs. But the street does not run both ways. Extroverts have little or no grasp of introversion. They assume that company, especially their own, is always welcome. They cannot imagine why someone would need to be alone; indeed, they often take umbrage at the suggestion. As often as I have tried to explain the matter to extroverts, I have never sensed that any of them really understood. They listen for a moment and then go back to barking and yipping."
I also relate to the bit about how "many actors, I've read, are introverts, and many introverts, when socializing, feel like actors". This rings true to me. If I appear to be at ease in a group of strangers, it's likely because I'm pretending . . .
You'd think that the type of people SG attracts would tend to be pretty extroverted, but I'm not sure that's the case. Extreme personalities can be a way of shielding innate shyness. Not to say that's a bad thing -- far from it.
But I'm curious... what about all of you? Are you an introvert? Outgoing? Are these labels too categorical? Irrelevant descriptors of the way you see yourself? I'd like to hear from you... while I sit back and observe the responses...
But I'm the kind of guy who takes books to parties where I don't know many of the other guests, prepared for the very real possibility that I'll spend long stretches of time disengaged from conversation entirely. And even when I end up talking with a group of people, it always seems to me like I'm more involved in the conversation than I really am -- actively caught up in the flow of what others are saying, only realizing later that I didn't contribute much in the way of real, actual words to the discussion.
I've consistently tested as an INTP in the dozen or so times I've taken versions of the Myers Briggs Type Indicator test in the past 15 years, whether or not this actually indicates much of practical value. But the personality traits the INTP designation comprise seem to describe me pretty well.
To sum it up, I like to watch. Whatever it is that I find interesting, I tend to stand back and observe. Participation, on the other hand, always gets short shrift.
A little over a year ago in The Atlantic Monthly, Jonathan Rauch (introvert extraordinaire) provided a glimpse into some of the whys and wherefores of introversion, including Sartre's quip that "Hell is other people at breakfast." I particularly dig this observation that, try as they might, extroverts just don't get introverts:
"Extroverts are easy for introverts to understand, because extroverts spend so much of their time working out who they are in voluble, and frequently inescapable, interaction with other people. They are as inscrutable as puppy dogs. But the street does not run both ways. Extroverts have little or no grasp of introversion. They assume that company, especially their own, is always welcome. They cannot imagine why someone would need to be alone; indeed, they often take umbrage at the suggestion. As often as I have tried to explain the matter to extroverts, I have never sensed that any of them really understood. They listen for a moment and then go back to barking and yipping."
I also relate to the bit about how "many actors, I've read, are introverts, and many introverts, when socializing, feel like actors". This rings true to me. If I appear to be at ease in a group of strangers, it's likely because I'm pretending . . .
You'd think that the type of people SG attracts would tend to be pretty extroverted, but I'm not sure that's the case. Extreme personalities can be a way of shielding innate shyness. Not to say that's a bad thing -- far from it.
But I'm curious... what about all of you? Are you an introvert? Outgoing? Are these labels too categorical? Irrelevant descriptors of the way you see yourself? I'd like to hear from you... while I sit back and observe the responses...
I'm back from the New Orleans jazz fest -- and I'm full of great music... and great crawfish.
Seeing all that zydeco has made me want to pull out my accordion again...
Seeing all that zydeco has made me want to pull out my accordion again...
King Crimson is my favorite band. Has been since late 1990. Like many bands of the "prog" era (Yes and Jethro Tull, to name two, are often seen as similar bands, but there are far more differences), King Crimson's lineup of musicians has changed drastically several times over the years. Guitarist Robert Fripp is the only original band member still playing in King Crimson today. And today's King Crimson is a drastically different beast than it was in 1969-1974... although it's still a shrieking beast of sonic terror.
A few years ago, some of the band members from the first few years of King Crimson decided to reunite and play classic King Crimson repertoire live. This was a great idea; although there are many fans of the old stuff, today's Crimson only plays newer repertoire (also a good decision). And now the 21st Century Schizoid Band is coming to the United States, performing at the Birchmere on April 24. This also happens to be the same weekend I'll be at the New Orleans Jazz Festival. Curses.
So if you're anywhere in the DC area, head over to the Birchmere on April 24 to see the 21st Century Schizoid Band as a proxy for me. I'm sure I'll have a great time in Louisiana, but this is the most conflicted I've felt in years, wishing I could be two places simultaneously. Oh yeah, I forgot -- I wish I could be in three places at once. I'd really love to be in Florida that weekend, too . . .
UPDATE: It just occurred to me that I shouldn't be so DC-centric. The Schizoid Band is playing in a few other US cities: Atlanta, New York, Cambridge, Hollywood and San Juan Capistrano. Check out their tour dates for more info.
A few years ago, some of the band members from the first few years of King Crimson decided to reunite and play classic King Crimson repertoire live. This was a great idea; although there are many fans of the old stuff, today's Crimson only plays newer repertoire (also a good decision). And now the 21st Century Schizoid Band is coming to the United States, performing at the Birchmere on April 24. This also happens to be the same weekend I'll be at the New Orleans Jazz Festival. Curses.
So if you're anywhere in the DC area, head over to the Birchmere on April 24 to see the 21st Century Schizoid Band as a proxy for me. I'm sure I'll have a great time in Louisiana, but this is the most conflicted I've felt in years, wishing I could be two places simultaneously. Oh yeah, I forgot -- I wish I could be in three places at once. I'd really love to be in Florida that weekend, too . . .
UPDATE: It just occurred to me that I shouldn't be so DC-centric. The Schizoid Band is playing in a few other US cities: Atlanta, New York, Cambridge, Hollywood and San Juan Capistrano. Check out their tour dates for more info.
