I should have written this back in August of 2021 when it first happened. I did write something for a Facebook post and quite a bit of this is lifted verbatim from that post. But, for some reason, I find myself still affected by the death of Rolling Stones' drummer Charlie Watts.
I don't usually get bent out of shape over celebrity deaths as--at least at this point in time--I've never actually known any celebrities. I've had the privilege of meeting a few and I've shaken a couple of hands, but it's never been possible for me to spend enough time to get to know them as people. However, the older I get, I find that the deaths of certain entertainers tend to bother me if their work has had a lasting impact on me. I won't lie. Charlie's death hurts... even four months after the fact.
I've never felt that I could fully describe or explain what the Rolling Stones' music has meant to me. I first heard them at the tender age of twelve and it was not like anything I had ever heard before. Initially, their music got me exploring not just their own extensive musical catalogue (which has gotten more extensive in the intervening years), but other artists that became known during the 1960s, particularly anything I could find worth listening to in my parents' vinyl collection. I started to read anything I could find regarding those artists. I sought out the artists who influenced them. The Stones had started out in the early-1960s idolizing American blues musicians. Knowing this, I got turned on to the likes of Muddy Waters, Howlin' Wolf, Little Walter, and my blues idol, the one and only John Lee Hooker. The Stones' appreciation for country and reggae music led me down even more interesting musical paths. I even began exploring artists who cited the Stones and their contemporaries as influences which then broadened my appreciation of rock music as well. Today, I still read liner notes religiously, a habit I picked up somewhere in high school. I like to know who played what instrument for what song on what album for a particular artist in a certain year. I think I would have always turned out to be a music lover, but the Stones turned that love into a geeky passion--at a time when being a geek wasn't exactly cool (come to think of it, neither was being a twelve-year-old Stones fan in the 1980s).
It was through their music that I started paying attention to the individual instruments used within a song, particularly the drums. I frequently will play out the drum parts to some of my favourite songs on any hard surface that happens to be near while I'm listening (much to the annoyance of anyone who happens to be with me at the time). Charlie taught me what a drummer was supposed to do--keep time. He didn't play a lot of lengthy intricate solos, he didn't have a huge setup with twenty different drums and a large gong behind him. He played a simple jazz drummer's kit (Gretsch drums, specifically) and he played with the sensibility of a jazz drummer. He wasn't flashy, he just kept the beat. Somehow, that made his drumming seem flashier to me.
When I think of the concept of what God might look like (something I believe to be subjective), I don't think of the guy with the long flowing white beard that we've seen in so many Renaissance paintings. I don't even think of film depictions like George Burns or Morgan Freeman (both good choices, by the way). I think of a photograph of Charlie Watts that I first saw in a coffee table book I have about the Stones. It was taken by photographer Jill Furmanovsky at her London studio in the early 1990s. It's a black and white picture of his profile. When combined with the colour picture on the opposite page (from the same photoshoot), something in my head said that, at least for me, this is what God looks like--an incredibly snazzy dresser with a very dry sense of humour who also happens to be one hell of a drummer. Today, I actually refer to God as "Charlie"--it takes the formality out of it for me... but that's another story, hopefully, for a later posting.
I suppose this continued sense of loss has a lot to do with my late father. I get much of my taste in popular culture from him. He was the one who introduced me to the Stones when I was twelve. Obviously, he had been a fan long before I was even born. I claim that my appreciation of music transcends genre because of Dad--he played not just rock records growing up, but also classical and country music. He liked everything from Wagner and Beethoven to Merle Haggard and Leon Redbone. He also had a deep love of jazz and blues which I'm sure would have been passed to me with or without the Stones' influence.
In 1989, the Stones announced that they would be releasing a new album (Steel Wheels) and embarking on a North American tour--their first major tour in seven years. It was Dad who suggested that we should try to get tickets if they were playing anyplace close. Lo and behold, along with some church friends, Dad managed to get tickets for their concert in Louisville, Kentucky, scheduled for 19 September. (I still find it amusing that essentially a church group went to a Stones concert. It sounds like the setup for a bad joke. We may as well have walked into a bar.)
I was fifteen years old and it was my first concert. Prior to this, the only "famous" person I had ever seen was Rip Taylor in a stage performance of Peter Pan when I was in the third grade. This was something considerably different. It was the first time I ever felt like I was part of something bigger than myself--particularly when they played "You Can't Always Get What You Want," which is still my favourite song all these years later.
Along with the Chicago Cubs game I wrote about in a previous post some years ago ("What the 2016 World Series Means To Me"), this was one of those father/son moments that I'll always treasure. I was out until 2:00 in the morning on a school night with my dad at a rock concert. How many of you can say you did that when you were fifteen? I got my shoelaces soaked in beer (which I still have), ate my first White Castle hamburgers, and found out what marijuana smells like. (At one point, before the opening act even took the stage, Dad looked at me and said, "Do you smell that?" I said, "Yeah, what is that?" He said, "That's grass. Don't inhale. Let me do that.")
As the Righteous Brothers once sang, "If there's a rock and roll heaven, well you know they've got a hell of a band." Sadly, that band is getting bigger and bigger with each passing year. Even Bobby Hatfield is a member. But I do take comfort in the belief that my parents have a front row seat and Dad's probably hanging out backstage with a lot of them... possibly even picking up a few musical tricks of his own.
09 January, 2022
31 October, 2020
Some Thoughts on Donald Trump
I don't usually like getting political in these writings, but I do feel that it helps me process everything that's been going on the last few months.
In 1990, Trump was going through one of his financial crises, and he had to be put on an allowance of $450,000 a month (you can read all about it at https://www.nytimes.com/1990/06/26/business/quick-who-d-have-trouble-living-on-450000-a-month.html). Many media outlets of the time raised the question about whether or not he could survive on that amount of money. My first thought was, "Why don't you ask the average American if they can survive on that amount?" I know I could get by on that. Hell, I could get by on $450,000 a decade and still make more money than I make right now! The whole incident certainly made me skeptical toward the ultra-rich in general and Trump specifically.
Don't get me wrong, I actually respect and even admire many rich people, particularly if they use their wealth to make the world a better place. I appreciate everything the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation does to help people in poorer countries improve their lives. I'm impressed by the fact that Warren Buffett is upset over the fact that he pays a lower tax rate than his secretary who makes considerably less than he does. Even people in the entertainment industry like Matt Damon, George Clooney, and Brad Pitt (among others) have my deepest, utmost respect for their charitable works. These people know they are financially better off than the average individual and feel an obligation, even a duty, to better the lives of those who have less. I don't care if a person has a lot of financial wealth. I also wouldn't mind having it myself, but it's not something that motivates or defines me.
I do, however, get concerned when a person is motivated by or defines themselves by their wealth, like Donald Trump consistently has. It's as if he thinks that having money makes him a better person than someone who has less than he does. His public behaviour has always indicated to me that he is incredibly shallow, he has no real friends except for sycophants and hangers-on, and that he would sell out any one of them--even his own children--at a moment's notice if he thought he could get more money out of it. Underneath his gold-plated, spray-on tanned, combed over veneer is a churlish, friendless little boy who has to bully/buy his way into getting exactly what he wants exactly when he wants it. Sad, really. Of course, that's just one man's opinion.
Kenneth Gamble, Leon Huff, and Anthony Jackson wrote a song called "For the Love of Money," which was a hit for the O'Jays in 1974. A sample of the lyrics include:
"For the love of money
People will steal from their mother
For the love of money
People can't even walk the street
Because they never know who in the world they're gonna beat
For that lean, mean, mean green...
For the love of money
People will lie, Lord, they will cheat
For the love of money
People don't care who they hurt or beat
For the love of money
A woman will sell her precious body
For a small piece of paper it carries a lot of weight
Call it lean, mean, mean green
Almighty dollar...
I know money is the root of all evil
Do funny things to some people
Give me a nickel, brother can you spare a dime
Money can drive some people out of their minds."
The great irony is that this became the theme song of his hit show, "The Apprentice" (or as I always liked to call it, "The Biggest Loser"). I never actually watched the show (like I said, I lost any respect I might have had for him when I was a teenager). For all I know, the song may have only been used in the show's advertising campaign. Either way, I wonder if Trump actually knew those lyrics ahead of time or, like most people, he only knew the "Money money money MOOOOO-NEY" chorus with its slinky bass line. If he did know them, was he really confessing all the things he'd do in order to acquire that "lean, mean, mean green"?
I can't decide if Trump is a narcissistic sociopath or a sociopathic narcissist. He is a bully. Like any bully worth his salt, he has an incredibly thin skin that houses an easily bruisable ego. Therein lies his real weakness: he can dish it out, but he can't take it. If anyone points out a flaw in anything he says or does (especially if it's factual), he goes off on some kind of screed, usually on Twitter, mocking the person or persons who have the unmitigated audacity to point out the flaw in the first place, throwing around terms like "fake news" and "witch hunt" and crying like a whiny little bitch about how he's being treated "very unfairly." And don't even get me started on how many times he's "doubled down" on however many specious claims he's made over the last five years--naturally without a scrap of evidence to back up any of it. He seems to believe that if you repeat a lie enough, people will eventually believe it's true. Some will even believe it immediately.
I can't decide if Trump is a narcissistic sociopath or a sociopathic narcissist. He is a bully. Like any bully worth his salt, he has an incredibly thin skin that houses an easily bruisable ego. Therein lies his real weakness: he can dish it out, but he can't take it. If anyone points out a flaw in anything he says or does (especially if it's factual), he goes off on some kind of screed, usually on Twitter, mocking the person or persons who have the unmitigated audacity to point out the flaw in the first place, throwing around terms like "fake news" and "witch hunt" and crying like a whiny little bitch about how he's being treated "very unfairly." And don't even get me started on how many times he's "doubled down" on however many specious claims he's made over the last five years--naturally without a scrap of evidence to back up any of it. He seems to believe that if you repeat a lie enough, people will eventually believe it's true. Some will even believe it immediately.
Reviewing that New York Times article again, I find myself questioning Trump's brand--something I started doing the moment he announced his candidacy for President. Particularly, I question whether or not he's really a billionaire. Personally, I don't think he is. He has been far too reluctant to release his tax returns to make me believe he isn't hiding something. And the returns that have been leaked seem to indicate a considerable amount of debt, much of it to foreign interests. That reluctance to back up his claims of his own self-worth make me doubt whether there's as much wealth there as he says there is.
Regardless of how much money he actually has, let's not confuse wealth with worth. More importantly, let's not confuse the lows to which he sinks with any kind of depth. There is nothing really there. I doubt there ever was.
19 August, 2018
I Suppose It's an Honour Just to Be Nominated
Last week, the Motion Picture Academy made some changes to its biggest award ceremony--the Oscars. The Academy announced that next year's Oscar ceremony will have a new category to honour "popular" films. This will give big tentpole blockbusters like Black Panther and... well, any superhero film a shot at something other than a technical award. Because, let's be honest, no matter how good the film is (and I think Black Panther is certainly that), it doesn't stand a chance at getting a Best Picture nomination because the Academy will never look at it as anything other than a 50-year-old comic book character.
The sad truth is, the Academy has always, at least in my lifetime, been a bit snobbish about who gets nominations. Most of their nominees and certainly their winners are films that are supposed to make one think about the human condition and morality and our place in society and all sorts of other weighty issues like that. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure Moonlight is a great film, but it's not something that I'm necessarily going to jump at the chance to watch... certainly not multiple times. And I'm not saying that weighty issues shouldn't be examined in film. I am saying that the Academy just likes it when those issues are really in your face.
The best example of this was 2008's The Dark Knight. This film touched on all sorts of important social issues. It made us ask important questions like, is it okay for someone to invade our privacy if its in the interest of protecting the general populace? (Again, this was 2008--we still cared about things like warrantless wiretapping in the name of national security.) And yet, with the obvious exception of Heath Ledger's performance (more on that in a bit), the film failed to garner any non-technical nominations. In my opinion, it should have been nominated for Best Picture and Christopher Nolan should have been nominated for Best Director. It was seriously one of the best directed films I'd seen in a long time. In fact, I'll go out on a limb and say that Nolan did as good a job directing that as he did last year's critical darling Dunkirk.
I'm an Oscar junkie. As I write this, for the life of me, I can't remember what won Best Picture that year, or, for that matter, any of the Best Picture nominees from that year except Frost/Nixon and that's only because I'm also a Watergate junkie. However, I do plan on looking it up after I post this.
Which brings me to the late, great Heath Ledger, who was posthumously awarded the Oscar for Best Supporting Actor for his work in The Dark Knight. To me, it was almost insulting. Not because he didn't deserve to win, mind you. He absolutely deserved that award. His performance was jaw-droppingly amazing. What was insulting about it was the fact that had he not died before the film's release, I don't think he would have won. In fact, I don't think he would have even gotten a nomination because I think the Academy would have only seen the fact that he was playing a nearly 70-year-old comic book character. That is why the film was left out of the Best Picture and Best Director categories--because at its heart, it's still Batman. You can make all the serious social commentary you want when you make a movie, but if you couch it in an action film based on a beloved comic, all the Academy will see is that comic.
Speaking of comics--there was one other injustice in the Best Supporting Actor Oscar category in 2008. (Who knew there could be multiple issues with just one category in just one year?) The person who really got shafted that year was Robert Downey, Jr., for his hysterical performance in the movie Tropic Thunder. Frankly, I was amazed he even got a nomination (again, not that he didn't deserve it). But why tease him like that? Even if he wasn't up against Ledger, there wasn't a chance in hell he was going to win it for the simple reason that it was an over-the-top comedy.
I've often wondered what the Academy has against comedies. Even the really good ones will usually only get nominated in Supporting Acting and writing categories, and even then, it only has a chance at winning for the screenplay. The few times in recent memory that Oscars have been awarded to comedies, there was always some kind of underlying drama as a counterpoint to the humour. Jack Nicholson's performance in As Good As It Gets could be looked at as comedic. And it was very funny. But underneath the funny, if offensive, one liners, Melvin Udall was an obsessive-compulsive, misanthropic, germophobic writer who just wanted "to be a better man." This brought out enough drama that the Academy felt it was okay to give Jack his third Oscar.
But what's wrong with giving awards to films and performances that just make us laugh? Most actors will be the first to say that comedy is harder than drama. So why do Oscars only seem to go to the more "realistic" dramatic performances? Why couldn't Melissa McCarthy actually have won for her performance in 2011's Bridesmaids? Or Downey for Tropic Thunder? The last Oscar I remember being awarded to a completely over-the-top, laugh-out-loud comedic performance was to Kevin Kline for A Fish Called Wanda--thirty years ago. (I suppose one could cite Jack Palance in City Slickers or Cuba Gooding, Jr., in Jerry Maguire, but, like Nicholson in As Good As it Gets, there were enough serious, more dramatic moments that kept them from being too funny.)
One performance that I felt was unfairly passed over was Michael Keaton in 2014's Birdman or (The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance). The Academy was kind enough to give him a nomination, but because Eddie Redmayne was playing Stephen Hawking--a real-life person who overcame almost unimaginable obstacles to become one of maybe two astrophysicists recognized by people who know nothing about astrophysics--he was the more "logical" choice. To be fair, I still haven't seen the film and I'm sure he did a magnificent job, but giving him the Oscar--or, rather, not giving it to Keaton--just seemed too easy to me. I often wonder if Keaton killed his chances of winning when he accepted his Golden Globe. He thanked the Hollywood Foreign Press for recognizing comedies, which is not exactly something the Academy is well-known for, as I hope I've illustrated above.
Over the last few years, there have been a number of criticisms of the Academy Awards, from a lack of diversity among the nominees to how long the ceremony is. And people have complained in the past that a lot of popular films don't get recognized except in the technical categories. I remember the Academy trying to address this issue some years back when they doubled the number of nominees for Best Picture. I don't think it worked too well.
Most of the time, I have to say, these "popular films" are not as good as the films that do tend to get nominated and/or win. I don't see The Meg being huge Oscar bait. I'm sure it's probably highly entertaining. There's nothing wrong with that, but is it really great cinema?
I really feel that the best way to improve the Oscars (other than obviously recognizing diversity) is to recognize other genres than drama. I think they ought to take a page out of the Golden Globes' playbook and separate drama and comedy into two categories. This will give a lot of really great performances a chance that they wouldn't otherwise have. I'm not sure I would go as far as to add an action category as the spectacle of blowing things up is usually the primary focus of action films. But if there is an action film worthy of critical praise (let's say... oh, I don't know... The Dark Knight), they could be nominated as a drama or comedy, depending on the storyline.
And I realize that this will make the ceremony longer. Personally, I think this is a non-issue. The Oscars are once a year. It's the highest holiest day of the awards season. Get over it, already! Don't start eliminating the technical awards from the broadcast just to please the local news anchors. The sound mixers can often work as hard as the actors, writers, and directors.
Just because a movie makes a lot of money and attracts a lot of people to the theaters, doesn't mean it's the best written, best acted, or even just the best film... except at making a lot of money and attracting a lot of people to the theaters. When most people go to the movies, they're just looking for escapist entertainment. They want to be taken out of the dramas of their own world for a couple hours. Not that I think there's anything wrong with serious films. Sometimes we need those too. But, ultimately we must remember why we have these awards--to honour what's best (which I realize is a subjective term), not what's popular. I think the Grammys should look into this a little more often.
The sad truth is, the Academy has always, at least in my lifetime, been a bit snobbish about who gets nominations. Most of their nominees and certainly their winners are films that are supposed to make one think about the human condition and morality and our place in society and all sorts of other weighty issues like that. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure Moonlight is a great film, but it's not something that I'm necessarily going to jump at the chance to watch... certainly not multiple times. And I'm not saying that weighty issues shouldn't be examined in film. I am saying that the Academy just likes it when those issues are really in your face.
The best example of this was 2008's The Dark Knight. This film touched on all sorts of important social issues. It made us ask important questions like, is it okay for someone to invade our privacy if its in the interest of protecting the general populace? (Again, this was 2008--we still cared about things like warrantless wiretapping in the name of national security.) And yet, with the obvious exception of Heath Ledger's performance (more on that in a bit), the film failed to garner any non-technical nominations. In my opinion, it should have been nominated for Best Picture and Christopher Nolan should have been nominated for Best Director. It was seriously one of the best directed films I'd seen in a long time. In fact, I'll go out on a limb and say that Nolan did as good a job directing that as he did last year's critical darling Dunkirk.
I'm an Oscar junkie. As I write this, for the life of me, I can't remember what won Best Picture that year, or, for that matter, any of the Best Picture nominees from that year except Frost/Nixon and that's only because I'm also a Watergate junkie. However, I do plan on looking it up after I post this.
Which brings me to the late, great Heath Ledger, who was posthumously awarded the Oscar for Best Supporting Actor for his work in The Dark Knight. To me, it was almost insulting. Not because he didn't deserve to win, mind you. He absolutely deserved that award. His performance was jaw-droppingly amazing. What was insulting about it was the fact that had he not died before the film's release, I don't think he would have won. In fact, I don't think he would have even gotten a nomination because I think the Academy would have only seen the fact that he was playing a nearly 70-year-old comic book character. That is why the film was left out of the Best Picture and Best Director categories--because at its heart, it's still Batman. You can make all the serious social commentary you want when you make a movie, but if you couch it in an action film based on a beloved comic, all the Academy will see is that comic.
Speaking of comics--there was one other injustice in the Best Supporting Actor Oscar category in 2008. (Who knew there could be multiple issues with just one category in just one year?) The person who really got shafted that year was Robert Downey, Jr., for his hysterical performance in the movie Tropic Thunder. Frankly, I was amazed he even got a nomination (again, not that he didn't deserve it). But why tease him like that? Even if he wasn't up against Ledger, there wasn't a chance in hell he was going to win it for the simple reason that it was an over-the-top comedy.
I've often wondered what the Academy has against comedies. Even the really good ones will usually only get nominated in Supporting Acting and writing categories, and even then, it only has a chance at winning for the screenplay. The few times in recent memory that Oscars have been awarded to comedies, there was always some kind of underlying drama as a counterpoint to the humour. Jack Nicholson's performance in As Good As It Gets could be looked at as comedic. And it was very funny. But underneath the funny, if offensive, one liners, Melvin Udall was an obsessive-compulsive, misanthropic, germophobic writer who just wanted "to be a better man." This brought out enough drama that the Academy felt it was okay to give Jack his third Oscar.
But what's wrong with giving awards to films and performances that just make us laugh? Most actors will be the first to say that comedy is harder than drama. So why do Oscars only seem to go to the more "realistic" dramatic performances? Why couldn't Melissa McCarthy actually have won for her performance in 2011's Bridesmaids? Or Downey for Tropic Thunder? The last Oscar I remember being awarded to a completely over-the-top, laugh-out-loud comedic performance was to Kevin Kline for A Fish Called Wanda--thirty years ago. (I suppose one could cite Jack Palance in City Slickers or Cuba Gooding, Jr., in Jerry Maguire, but, like Nicholson in As Good As it Gets, there were enough serious, more dramatic moments that kept them from being too funny.)
One performance that I felt was unfairly passed over was Michael Keaton in 2014's Birdman or (The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance). The Academy was kind enough to give him a nomination, but because Eddie Redmayne was playing Stephen Hawking--a real-life person who overcame almost unimaginable obstacles to become one of maybe two astrophysicists recognized by people who know nothing about astrophysics--he was the more "logical" choice. To be fair, I still haven't seen the film and I'm sure he did a magnificent job, but giving him the Oscar--or, rather, not giving it to Keaton--just seemed too easy to me. I often wonder if Keaton killed his chances of winning when he accepted his Golden Globe. He thanked the Hollywood Foreign Press for recognizing comedies, which is not exactly something the Academy is well-known for, as I hope I've illustrated above.
Over the last few years, there have been a number of criticisms of the Academy Awards, from a lack of diversity among the nominees to how long the ceremony is. And people have complained in the past that a lot of popular films don't get recognized except in the technical categories. I remember the Academy trying to address this issue some years back when they doubled the number of nominees for Best Picture. I don't think it worked too well.
Most of the time, I have to say, these "popular films" are not as good as the films that do tend to get nominated and/or win. I don't see The Meg being huge Oscar bait. I'm sure it's probably highly entertaining. There's nothing wrong with that, but is it really great cinema?
I really feel that the best way to improve the Oscars (other than obviously recognizing diversity) is to recognize other genres than drama. I think they ought to take a page out of the Golden Globes' playbook and separate drama and comedy into two categories. This will give a lot of really great performances a chance that they wouldn't otherwise have. I'm not sure I would go as far as to add an action category as the spectacle of blowing things up is usually the primary focus of action films. But if there is an action film worthy of critical praise (let's say... oh, I don't know... The Dark Knight), they could be nominated as a drama or comedy, depending on the storyline.
And I realize that this will make the ceremony longer. Personally, I think this is a non-issue. The Oscars are once a year. It's the highest holiest day of the awards season. Get over it, already! Don't start eliminating the technical awards from the broadcast just to please the local news anchors. The sound mixers can often work as hard as the actors, writers, and directors.
Just because a movie makes a lot of money and attracts a lot of people to the theaters, doesn't mean it's the best written, best acted, or even just the best film... except at making a lot of money and attracting a lot of people to the theaters. When most people go to the movies, they're just looking for escapist entertainment. They want to be taken out of the dramas of their own world for a couple hours. Not that I think there's anything wrong with serious films. Sometimes we need those too. But, ultimately we must remember why we have these awards--to honour what's best (which I realize is a subjective term), not what's popular. I think the Grammys should look into this a little more often.
01 April, 2018
As Long As...
I recently stumbled upon something I wrote a long time ago. I think it's safe to say that none of it is relevant anymore, which is too bad because I think it's still kind of a lovely poem on my part, if I do say so myself. Oh, well. Live and learn, I guess.
As Long As...
As long
as you need me in your life
As long
as I'm willing to do anything to protect it—even at the expense of
my own life
As long
as I carry your heart in my hip pocket
As long
as you would do the same for me
As long
as we still sing to each other
As long
as there's room for you in my arms
As long
as your sighs and your tears shatter my heart into tiny fragments
As long
as I'll endure the pain to help relieve yours
As long
as I still call you the next day to make sure all is well
As long
as we're willing to tell each other anything and everything
As long
as I can always call you my best friend
As long
as you can always call me yours
As long
as you always think of yourself as my girl—even if nothing comes of
it
As long
as I can say I love you, just because sometimes I don't know what
else to say
Then
you needn't worry
I'll
never complely close off my heart.
--William
Allen, 15 May, 2001
01 July, 2017
#@&*%
I wrote the following for The South Bend Tribune on April 18, 2012. While some of the details may be a bit dated, the overall premise still vexes me to this day and if anyone can explain to me why things are the way they are with regards to the MPAA, I would be interested. And, yes, I have seen Kirby Dick's documentary This Film Is Not Yet Rated. All that film does is vex me even more. Please, by all means... discuss...
In the last few years, the subject of bullying among our nation’s youth has been in the news quite a bit. I don’t remember bullying being particularly newsworthy when I was growing up. As I recall, it was just part of life. I was fairly heavyset and made pretty good grades in school. To put it mildly, I was a fat nerd. Therefore, I just kind of accepted it as a part of life and moved on when I could.
Of course, 20 years ago we didn’t have the prevalence of the Internet and only really rich people had cell phones. Today, it’s a different story. Not only do we have cell phones, we have phones that can take pictures and transmit them to anyone and everyone. Lives can be ruined at the press of a button.
A new documentary film aimed at teens that addresses this problem and seeks to end it has recently been released. It’s titled simply Bully and follows the lives of high school students and how bullying affects them. The film, while highly praised by critics, was given an R-rating by the Motion Picture Association of America because of frequent use of the dreaded “F-word.” An R rating (for those of you who actually pay attention to these things) means that no one under the age of 17 is admitted into the theater to see the film without a parent or guardian present. Assuming that the ticket clerks in movie theaters actually enforce this rule, that means that many of the people who need to see this film, specifically teens, wouldn’t be able to.
Harvey Weinstein, whose company distributes Bully, appealed to the MPAA’s ratings board to lower the rating to a PG-13 so that it could more easily reach its intended audience. The board refused. Weinstein, who has fought this fight before — most notably over last year’s Best Picture Oscar winner, The King’s Speech–decided to release the film unrated. Most unrated films are treated by theaters as if they have an NC-17 rating, meaning that no one under 17 is allowed in to see it, even with adult supervision.
According to imdb.com, “Finally, the filmmakers agreed to cut some, but not all, of the relevant language, and the MPAA did agree to re-rate the movie PG-13. The PG-13 version does keep intact all the language in the scene that was the main point of contention between the filmmakers and the MPAA, in which a 12-year-old is physically and verbally attacked on his school bus by his classmates.”
This whole thing concerns me for many reasons. First of all, I think this film is an important one that needed to be made and it needs to be seen by as many people as possible. Clearly bullying has become a real problem in this country and something needs to be done about it. I think the first step is talking about it, which this film obviously wants to do. I don’t think it should be rated R, but I also don’t think that the filmmakers should have edited the film to satisfy a handful of people who are in a position to dictate what is appropriate for someone of a certain age to see. I really feel that parents should be the final judge of what their children see. Unfortunately, I realize that not all parents are as diligent in their duties as mine were.
My second concern is with the MPAA’s ratings board itself. Its members seem to have taken it upon themselves to protect our youth from hearing foul language. I have news for them: It’s not working! If you have a documentary that depicts actual teens actually being bullied, both physically and verbally, then obviously the teen population is already familiar with the words that you don’t want them to hear, let alone say. Bleeping the word and/or blurring the mouths of those who use it, as they do on network television, doesn’t make any difference. We still know what’s being said. The same is true of euphemisms. Let’s be honest — we all know what the “F” in “F-word” stands for.
Which brings me to my biggest concern: changing standards in society. It would appear that in the last 40 years or so, we as a society have become freer and more open in the way we express ourselves. However, in spite of that, especially in the last 20 years, the MPAA has become stricter in its film ratings. (For the purposes of this writing, I’m only addressing language. Sex and violence are completely different issues.)
When I was in college, a professor in the telecommunications department at Ball State University informed me that a film got an R rating with its fourth utterance of the “F-word.” And when I look at the films of that time, that seems to be accurate. Films like 1995′s The American President and 1997′s As Good As It Gets both have PG-13 ratings and each use the word or some variation of it three times. 1989′s When Harry Met Sally… has exactly four and has an R.
Today, when I listen to commentary tracks on DVDs, I constantly hear filmmakers say things like, “We were only allowed to use the word one time and still maintain a PG-13 rating.” Assuming that films now get an R rating for the second use of the word, does that mean that all those PG-13 rated films of the mid-90s are now inappropriate for younger viewers because they used it more frequently? Should we go back and re-rate all these films to reflect what the MPAA ratings board currently thinks is appropriate for our children? Should a film like 1976′s All the President’s Men, which is rated PG, now carry an R? It uses some variation of that word a total of 11 times (yes, I counted!). If the film were to be re-released theatrically, would it have to have a different rating than the one assigned to it 36 years ago?
In the end, I think that the MPAA’s rating board is the real bully in this case. I’m not saying that films shouldn’t have ratings. Films like 2009′s The Hangover and last year’s smash Bridesmaids are clearly aimed at adults and we need some way of conveying that in a film’s marketing campaign. But in the case of Bully, the film has the potential to change lives for the better, particularly those of bullied teens. And yet, the MPAA seems intent on protecting children from hearing and seeing on a movie screen that which they already deal with on a daily basis. Are they really this afraid of words? I can’t decide if the ratings board is prudish, out of touch, or just in denial. Perhaps it’s all three.
In the last few years, the subject of bullying among our nation’s youth has been in the news quite a bit. I don’t remember bullying being particularly newsworthy when I was growing up. As I recall, it was just part of life. I was fairly heavyset and made pretty good grades in school. To put it mildly, I was a fat nerd. Therefore, I just kind of accepted it as a part of life and moved on when I could.
Of course, 20 years ago we didn’t have the prevalence of the Internet and only really rich people had cell phones. Today, it’s a different story. Not only do we have cell phones, we have phones that can take pictures and transmit them to anyone and everyone. Lives can be ruined at the press of a button.
A new documentary film aimed at teens that addresses this problem and seeks to end it has recently been released. It’s titled simply Bully and follows the lives of high school students and how bullying affects them. The film, while highly praised by critics, was given an R-rating by the Motion Picture Association of America because of frequent use of the dreaded “F-word.” An R rating (for those of you who actually pay attention to these things) means that no one under the age of 17 is admitted into the theater to see the film without a parent or guardian present. Assuming that the ticket clerks in movie theaters actually enforce this rule, that means that many of the people who need to see this film, specifically teens, wouldn’t be able to.
Harvey Weinstein, whose company distributes Bully, appealed to the MPAA’s ratings board to lower the rating to a PG-13 so that it could more easily reach its intended audience. The board refused. Weinstein, who has fought this fight before — most notably over last year’s Best Picture Oscar winner, The King’s Speech–decided to release the film unrated. Most unrated films are treated by theaters as if they have an NC-17 rating, meaning that no one under 17 is allowed in to see it, even with adult supervision.
According to imdb.com, “Finally, the filmmakers agreed to cut some, but not all, of the relevant language, and the MPAA did agree to re-rate the movie PG-13. The PG-13 version does keep intact all the language in the scene that was the main point of contention between the filmmakers and the MPAA, in which a 12-year-old is physically and verbally attacked on his school bus by his classmates.”
This whole thing concerns me for many reasons. First of all, I think this film is an important one that needed to be made and it needs to be seen by as many people as possible. Clearly bullying has become a real problem in this country and something needs to be done about it. I think the first step is talking about it, which this film obviously wants to do. I don’t think it should be rated R, but I also don’t think that the filmmakers should have edited the film to satisfy a handful of people who are in a position to dictate what is appropriate for someone of a certain age to see. I really feel that parents should be the final judge of what their children see. Unfortunately, I realize that not all parents are as diligent in their duties as mine were.
My second concern is with the MPAA’s ratings board itself. Its members seem to have taken it upon themselves to protect our youth from hearing foul language. I have news for them: It’s not working! If you have a documentary that depicts actual teens actually being bullied, both physically and verbally, then obviously the teen population is already familiar with the words that you don’t want them to hear, let alone say. Bleeping the word and/or blurring the mouths of those who use it, as they do on network television, doesn’t make any difference. We still know what’s being said. The same is true of euphemisms. Let’s be honest — we all know what the “F” in “F-word” stands for.
Which brings me to my biggest concern: changing standards in society. It would appear that in the last 40 years or so, we as a society have become freer and more open in the way we express ourselves. However, in spite of that, especially in the last 20 years, the MPAA has become stricter in its film ratings. (For the purposes of this writing, I’m only addressing language. Sex and violence are completely different issues.)
When I was in college, a professor in the telecommunications department at Ball State University informed me that a film got an R rating with its fourth utterance of the “F-word.” And when I look at the films of that time, that seems to be accurate. Films like 1995′s The American President and 1997′s As Good As It Gets both have PG-13 ratings and each use the word or some variation of it three times. 1989′s When Harry Met Sally… has exactly four and has an R.
Today, when I listen to commentary tracks on DVDs, I constantly hear filmmakers say things like, “We were only allowed to use the word one time and still maintain a PG-13 rating.” Assuming that films now get an R rating for the second use of the word, does that mean that all those PG-13 rated films of the mid-90s are now inappropriate for younger viewers because they used it more frequently? Should we go back and re-rate all these films to reflect what the MPAA ratings board currently thinks is appropriate for our children? Should a film like 1976′s All the President’s Men, which is rated PG, now carry an R? It uses some variation of that word a total of 11 times (yes, I counted!). If the film were to be re-released theatrically, would it have to have a different rating than the one assigned to it 36 years ago?
In the end, I think that the MPAA’s rating board is the real bully in this case. I’m not saying that films shouldn’t have ratings. Films like 2009′s The Hangover and last year’s smash Bridesmaids are clearly aimed at adults and we need some way of conveying that in a film’s marketing campaign. But in the case of Bully, the film has the potential to change lives for the better, particularly those of bullied teens. And yet, the MPAA seems intent on protecting children from hearing and seeing on a movie screen that which they already deal with on a daily basis. Are they really this afraid of words? I can’t decide if the ratings board is prudish, out of touch, or just in denial. Perhaps it’s all three.
14 February, 2017
Valentine's Day Can Suck It!
A
few years back, I was thumbing through the Encyclopædia
Britannica. I wanted to know the origins of this Cupid chap who is supposed to be flying around this week. He's Roman, in case you didn't know (I didn't, which is why I was looking him up in the first place). He apparently enjoys archery and he is a menace to our society. Britannica says that "his wounds inspired love or passion in his every victim." WOUNDS???? VICTIM???? He's hunting human prey, for Christ's sake! Clearly this guy is a terrorist and needs to be stopped at all cost! We need to ship his wing-ed little ass off to Guantánamo and find out what his real agenda is!
As you may have guessed, I find Valentine's Day to be a disgusting and crass holiday. Even in the days when I had a girlfriend, I still wasn't fond of it (although I will admit it was a lot more fun). Personally, I don't understand the concept of it. Some poor schlub gets his head lobbed off and I'm supposed to be romantic about it? "Y'know, honey, we can go out to dinner and a movie anytime. Why don't we watch someone get martyred?" I don't know about the rest of you, but I certainly get hot whenever I think of someone getting decapitated. Valentine's Day... Bah! Humbug!
Now don't get me wrong. I'm a hopeless romantic. Or maybe I'm just hopeless...the jury is still out on that. Consequently, I'm not a fan of what I call "institutionalized romance." I don't like being told when I should be romantic. I prefer to do it on my own, whenever the mood strikes me.
I normally try hard not to rain on anyone's parade. And the other 364.25 days out of the year, I don't. As such, I feel entitled to have one day out of the year when I can. So, every February 14, I dress in my finest black suit, don a pair of sunglasses, and proclaim myself to be the anti-Cupid.
Can you blame me? Beginning the day after Christmas, retail outlets and the media promote it ad nauseam. They promote it as a holiday for lovers (and, I suppose, rightfully so). Never mind how many people are consequently ostracized for the crime of being single. No one ever talks about those who celebrate this "holiday" alone. Valentine's Day and those who orchestrate it couldn't care less about us. I guess that's only fair. After all, we couldn't care about them. I guess we're like the homeless. If they don't see us, we don't really exist.
Seriously, what kind of crap is that? There are a lot of us lonely, embittered people out there. Where are our cards and flowers and candy? Where is our holiday? Who speaks for us?
At this point, I'm reminded of the words of Rob Fleming, the protagonist of my favourite novel, Nick Hornby's High Fidelity (or Rob Gordon if you're a fan of the film starring John Cusack), who points out that people worry about kids playing with guns or playing violent video games because they might turn into violent people themselves. But nobody worries about these same kids listening to literally thousands of songs about pain, heartbreak, and loss. Fleming poses an interesting question: "Did I listen to music because I was miserable? Or was I miserable because I listened to music?"
Either way, all we socially unacceptable single people seem to have on our behalf are the countless pop songs that people have been writing and performing since the dawn of civilization. They say what those who force this holiday upon us are too ashamed to admit. As members of the J. Geils Band, Peter Wolf and Seth Justman claimed "Love Stinks." Felice and Boudleaux Bryant said that "Love Hurts." Bob Dylan declared that "Love is Just a Four-Letter Word." The late, great Leonard Cohen pointed out that "There Ain't No Cure For Love." And my idols, the Rolling Stones, professed love to be a "Bitch." As someone who's been passed over in favour of married men and suicidal drunks, I can attest to the fact that all of those are accurate.
I'm sure there are a lot of you out there who are deeply in love with your soul mate. You may be happily married and have a litter of offspring and you still swoon every time you see each other. That's great. I'm happy for you... seriously, I am. All I ask is that you stop rubbing it in the faces of those of us who aren't as lucky as you.
Now don't get me wrong. I'm a hopeless romantic. Or maybe I'm just hopeless...the jury is still out on that. Consequently, I'm not a fan of what I call "institutionalized romance." I don't like being told when I should be romantic. I prefer to do it on my own, whenever the mood strikes me.
I normally try hard not to rain on anyone's parade. And the other 364.25 days out of the year, I don't. As such, I feel entitled to have one day out of the year when I can. So, every February 14, I dress in my finest black suit, don a pair of sunglasses, and proclaim myself to be the anti-Cupid.
Can you blame me? Beginning the day after Christmas, retail outlets and the media promote it ad nauseam. They promote it as a holiday for lovers (and, I suppose, rightfully so). Never mind how many people are consequently ostracized for the crime of being single. No one ever talks about those who celebrate this "holiday" alone. Valentine's Day and those who orchestrate it couldn't care less about us. I guess that's only fair. After all, we couldn't care about them. I guess we're like the homeless. If they don't see us, we don't really exist.
Seriously, what kind of crap is that? There are a lot of us lonely, embittered people out there. Where are our cards and flowers and candy? Where is our holiday? Who speaks for us?
At this point, I'm reminded of the words of Rob Fleming, the protagonist of my favourite novel, Nick Hornby's High Fidelity (or Rob Gordon if you're a fan of the film starring John Cusack), who points out that people worry about kids playing with guns or playing violent video games because they might turn into violent people themselves. But nobody worries about these same kids listening to literally thousands of songs about pain, heartbreak, and loss. Fleming poses an interesting question: "Did I listen to music because I was miserable? Or was I miserable because I listened to music?"
Either way, all we socially unacceptable single people seem to have on our behalf are the countless pop songs that people have been writing and performing since the dawn of civilization. They say what those who force this holiday upon us are too ashamed to admit. As members of the J. Geils Band, Peter Wolf and Seth Justman claimed "Love Stinks." Felice and Boudleaux Bryant said that "Love Hurts." Bob Dylan declared that "Love is Just a Four-Letter Word." The late, great Leonard Cohen pointed out that "There Ain't No Cure For Love." And my idols, the Rolling Stones, professed love to be a "Bitch." As someone who's been passed over in favour of married men and suicidal drunks, I can attest to the fact that all of those are accurate.
I'm sure there are a lot of you out there who are deeply in love with your soul mate. You may be happily married and have a litter of offspring and you still swoon every time you see each other. That's great. I'm happy for you... seriously, I am. All I ask is that you stop rubbing it in the faces of those of us who aren't as lucky as you.
15 January, 2017
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