Touch me. Touch me like you didn't touch me last night.

I don't think you understand how much you need to see The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada.



Sure, we're only 3 months into 2006, but it's already in my top three I've seen this year, not just in the theatres, but DVD's and everything.

No wonder it won two awards at Cannes (Tommy Lee Jones for Best Actor, Guillermo Arriaga for Best Screenplay).
Not bad for Mr. Jones's first real directing stint (he directed a TV movie a decade ago.)

If you live near Champaign-Urbana, it's got some limited run-time left at Boardman's Art Theatre.
If you live elsewhere, find this fucking movie. It's in a few theatres, and it'll be out on DVD June 6.

benjamin

As though you hadn't had enough with my cat rubbing up against Scott Pilgrim for my vague review of it, now I'm going to scar you forever with this:



I lick like Steady Beat by lilrivkah very much.

It's a manga-style OGN (Original Graphic Novel. What, do you live on the moon...hmh?...oh, just not Planet Geek...got it...) that popped into stores a little bit ago, and it's really quite damned good.

No, you're not going to spend 4 hours reading it, or disect it like B for Bendetta, but that's not the point. It's one of those teen books that anybody can read and enjoy, and I certainly did.

Basic plot: Leah may not be the best soccer player in high school, but her older sister seems to be. Leah's got nothing but respect for her older sister until a she finds a love letter to her...signed "Jessica." What the Stonewall is going on here?

Begin Teh Dramaz. This is where Steady Beat really stands out to me. Sure, it's got the kind of situations that only occur in comic books, but the approach is completely different from what you're used to seeing. Basically, this is written the way things would probably unfold, emotionally and mentally.

Stylistically, this kicked my ass. It's mangesque without making you think "Hey, this looks like Ranma 1/2!" lilrivkah has developed a style that's completely her own, and it's working incredibly well...especially impressive when you hear that this is her first book. Talent to spare, and she's just getting started.

This is just v.1, and Rivkah is busting ass on v.2, so it's good that this is a solid piece that will stand up to multiple readings while I wait for the next installment.

The fan community--the only place she's responding to comments these days, as her LJ is now mostly for character sketches--is at steady_beat.

Click on the pic of me being weird to jump to the Steady Beat section of TokyoPop's website.

b
"String Quartet in B Flat Major" - Mozart

            So here’s the deal: The Quitter—written by Harvey Pekar and illustrated by Dean Haspiel (aka man_size)—is easily one of the most solid graphic novels I’ve read, bar none.

          Harvey Pekar, famous for his American Splendor comics, as well as the film about him that shares the same name, is not the everyman that most articles predictably and laboriously paint him as. How do you refer to somebody who’s been writing jazz reviews for forty years as an everyman? Or how about a guy who doesn’t get to be on Letterman anymore, since he turned the tables on the open mockery of him one too many times?
          I’ve read most of American Splendor, and I’ve enjoyed it, but it's rarely knocked me out. Don’t get me wrong, it’s some impressive stuff—the impression varying greatly with each artist who illustrates Pekar’s work—but it’s never been the sort of thing that I’d go out of my way to pick up regularly. The slice-of-life dialogue can really be killer, but it always felt a bit disjointed to me.
          Man, Quitter kicks the shit out of that little stereotype I’ve been nursing. The usual 90/10 dialogue/narration formula is flipped over as Pekar writes about his amazingly interesting early life, from the heady days of his being the best street fighter in his neighborhood, to his occasionally debilitating bouts of inadequacy and paranoia, to his countless jobs and week in the Navy. This is no longer “slice of life,” this IS life…a fucking interesting one.
          This is the kind of autobiographical stuff I can totally dig on, this is a guy going through and telling us his highs, his lows, and all with a detachment that’s not totally unemotional. When I finished, I felt like I had a way better grasp on Harvey Pekar, and a far more vast respect for him and his life.
          I feel bad enough that I’ve gone this far without mentioning that this is—near as I can tell—the best art I’ve ever seen out of Dean Haspiel, and that’s saying a lot. Easily the most impressive to me about this is that each panel isn’t just the usual “snapshot” art. Instead, each one threatens to keep moving if you take your eyes off of it. We’re talking Jack-Kirby’s-Captain-America-is-striding-towards-the-Red-Skull-and-somebody's-gonna- lose-an-eye kinda power here. His framing of movement is incredible, with some amazing three-panel-spreads that tug your eyes along with the text, the character, and the flow of the story.
          Haspiel pulls nice camera angles without making them feel forced, and keeps the background as alive as the main character. One panel I really loved is where we see a young Pekar in class, watching the teacher, and a girl to the side looking away, but not at Pekar. It’s like she’s sneaking a glimpse at some off-panel crush, and Haspiel’s letting us in on her secret.
          And the fights. A lot of this book comes down to fighting, where Pekar excelled, and was finally able to feel that he had accomplished something. His narrations of the schoolings are full of awesome, and Dino’s art…fuck, man, some of those punches made my goddamned jaw ache.

           Listen to me, wanking away like a fanboy, or worse, an actual critic. Ignore my noise, and just get out there and buy The Quitter.

           As for me, I think I’m gonna read it again.

 benjamin

Strange juxtaposition of films.

First, I watched Irréversible, a French film from 2002, directed by Gaspar Noé. To call this film "disturbing" would be gentle. It's entirely different from an Ichi the Killer sort of disturbing, however.

Shot in a similar fashion to Memento, the film starts with a sequence that is the end of the story, and then goes to the sequence before it, and so on. Unlike Memento, however, we learn much of the story as we go...no real "twists" to speak of, but Noé's almost nauseating camerawork -- a conscious choice, he has said -- combined with the grating sounds and horrible inevitability of a single event make you more wired as it goes on.

It's also quite interesting to learn that only about two pages were written for this film, making the rest of it all-but-improvised. Since I usually hate this French New Wave technique, it was surprising to see it work so well.

Violent, distressing, and with a crushing feeling of...ummm...irreveribleness...osity...ism...look, if you need to get your head messed with, watch this, it's really incredible.

Don't bitch at me later if you find it too upsetting.

Then Sara brought home Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy. Good points: Steve Carell's performance. Bad points: Damn near everything else. Actually stopped looking at the TV during the last 15 or 20 minutes.

Now I'm off to edit King of Fighters 2003 v.3 and Journal of the Vampire Hunter - Claws of Darkness v.1.

*smooches*

b

Current Music: “Fly Me to the Moon” – Blossom Dearie
Next Movies: The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou and Kinsey