Best Movies of 2008 - Final Version

This year, Farrah and I have the same top 10 pretty much, the only difference would be the order. We went for means and averages for the Christmas Card, but I'm posting them in my preferred order since this is my blog and I can do what I want.

1. Changeling
I’m surprised I enjoyed it as much as I did, but it reminded me of Shawshank Redemption and the villain deserves to go into the Movie Bad Guy Hall of Fame.

2. Bigger Stronger Faster
A fascinating documentary on steroid use and America’s need to be the best, while hiding the skeletons in our closet. I’m still thinking about it.

3. Role Models
Funniest movie of the year. With so little good in the theatres this year, it came as a real pleasure to just sit and laugh non stop.

4. Diving Bell and Butterfly
It technically came out last year, but with there being so little to truly recommend this year, and most viewers discovering it in ’08, it deserves a spot. One of the most perfectly directed films ever.

5. Frost/Nixon
Who knew a film about a famous interview could be so riveting.

6. The Visitor
A very touching movie about a man finding himself with the help of some young, immigrant friends.

7. Milk
In retrospect, it could have been about so much more. Still, the ensemble cast was perfect and Sean Penn is mesmerizing.

8. Iron Man
The better of the two comic book blockbusters of the year.

9. Dark Knight
Really good, but not a great movie. Before it feels too long and gets clichéd, it’s a really good ride.

10. Frozen River
That small gem you wish everyone with an open mind would discover.

My Boy

We forced our big guy out of the womb on New Year's Eve after a long, tortuous day that made his arrival doubly sweet.

Farrah's actual due date was around January 4th, so our thinking was, since we're all paid up on our deductibles for the year and we'd like the tax credit, and he's breach, and it's only a few days early, why not schedule the c-section for the last day of 2008. The doctor was bristling at this suggestion, which forced a sort of loggerhead to see who was going to win this battle. Finally, on Dec 30th at around 5:30 pm, we received the go-ahead for birth the next day after an amnio showed the doctors what they needed to see. The surgery would be scheduled for 7 am, but we needed to be there by 5. Pain.

I had begun to feel bad that we were turning our son's birth into something that benefited us, rather than allowing nature to take it's course, so I was somewhat deflated when they said to be at the hospital that early. I had accepted the idea that we would let the experts win this battle. That feeling only got worse over the course of the next day.

So, we arrive at 5 like we're supposed to and Farrah gets in the bed and I take out my ipod and book and begin waiting those 2 hours before go-time. Then came one of those moments you wish you could have back. The nurse asked Farrah if she had had anything to eat or drink so far and Farrah admitted she drank a glass of water. Well, off went the alarm bells! Everything stopped and the nurse went scurrying down the halls looking for guidance. Our doctor had failed to mention no eating or drinking. Farrah assumed the eating part, but caved on the drinking. We were then informed it was off and that we'd have to come back later. The new time was 4:30 pm, but we should get there by 1 in case there was a cancellation. I was irate. Irate at the doctors for making this experience and our decision to do it early so regretful. Irate at Farrah for masterminding this decision and for drinking that blasted water. Irate at "the man" for keeping us down. And, irate at myself for not having the fore site to make my boy's day happier. We went back home and went to bed, and I was sick in my gut and had tears in my eyes feeling lower than dirt.

We went back at 1, but of course, there was no early window and then we got bumped from our 4:30 appointment. We sat there all day, Farrah hasn't eaten and thinks she wants a sandwich more than she wants to have this baby and me stewing and snapping at anyone trying to help. I was cursing the day my poor son was born and wanted to shoot myself for it, yet couldn't control myself. (Meanwhile, my poor parents are back at the house keeping Georgia entertained. A huge help.)

Then, it all changed. The nurses finally entered the room with some literal directives and the ball was finally rolling. At that point all was forgiven. By about 6:40pm, Graham Alan Lamoreaux made his entrance and the hell of the previous 14 hours was a distant memory.

He was 10 lbs (9lbs 15.8 oz) and 22 inches long. At first, he looked like a miniature James Gandolfini, same hairline, same slightly recessed chin, same almost pug nose and same barrel chest. Cute was not the first word that came to mind. Now, however, he's beautiful. Looks almost exactly like Georgia did (and she turned out perfectly), but with more masculine features and more hair. Farrah and I make the most amazing babies, I don't know why we deserve that, but we know we're blessed.

I'm proud of the guy. He's a great baby. Like they say, when you don't think you have more love to give to more children, it just blooms from nowhere, like vapor or dandelions or a miracle.

This Week in Mormons in the Media

I'm a little late on this, as the issue of Rolling Stone I'm referencing is now off newsstands, but I wanted to mention it anyway.

It would be very easy (and tiring) to comment on the many stories around the church and California's Prop 8 that have flooded the media over the last six weeks, but I have chosen not to dwell on it. The main reason being, I am totally and completely opposed to defining marriage as ONLY between a man and a woman and feel terrible that I'm associated with the group that served as one of the major catalysts for getting the prop passed. It's been overwhelming to try and get my thoughts in order on the subject. Rather than rant every time I read something that infuriates me, I just choose to leave it alone.

One thing I am relieved about is that the prop passed democratically, as it should have been. There aren't enough Mormons in California to affect the vote that much, so the fact that it was the majority of resident's feelings that it should not be allowed is their business. So, all of the protests against the church and its involvement are really unfair. They only do it because they know we don't fight back. Protesters just need to realize that it was democracy in action and let it be. Besides, it's only a matter of time before it's overturned and deemed common practice across the country.

Now, when I saw that Rolling Stone was going to chime in on the Mormon's involvement I cringed and squirmed in anticipation for what I might read. I was only too relieved when I read a very thoughtful article on how it wasn't the Mormon's or the Black's or any other Christian group's fault. It was the fault of the Gay and Lesbian groups that ran, what I realize now, to be an utterly disorganized campaign. It was them that did themselves in by a lack of leadership and focus and by not playing offense early enough in the process. Hearing this from RS of all things, came as a big relief. I hope people will read the article, which can be found right here, if they're interested in the subject.

Hopefully, the next time this issue comes up, voters grant equal rights for all despite race, creed, or sexual preference. While Mormons and Blacks may not be completely to blame, I do find it sad that two minority groups (I consider Mormons in that group, as they are prejudiced against in a similar fashion) who fought so hard to be treated as equal members of American society, would fight so hard to keep those same civil rights away from others. I love the church, but I am deeply ashamed of them in this instance.

Live in Concert: The Black Crowes 12/13/08

Back in the Fall of 1991, the Black Crowes came to the local venue by our house in Cambridge, England and I didn’t go because no one would go with me. I wasn’t as evolved as I am now, and wasn’t open to doing such things by myself. Now, I prefer it that way. I’ve lived with the regret ever since. I’m less a fan now than I was then and the band keeps breaking up, so it has felt several times that I missed my best window to get it right.

My other fear, and it’s one that came to fruition Saturday night, is that the band is prone to long jams that go on and on and make standing for 3 hours especially painful. I just don’t have the back for that anymore. Still, I’m very glad I went and get to cross them off my list. I’ll probably just never go again.

The show started perfectly. The first 90 mins or so went by fluidly. Songs had actual stops and starts and verses and hooks. Those sound like the basics, but when you have a band that likes to jam, many of those key elements get pushed aside in favor of indulgent noodling and psychedelia. Chris Robinson has one of the greatest voices in rock. He still looks like the heroin-addicted scarecrow he probably is, but the lungs have only improved with age. And, he has a natural stage presence that is a commendable counterstrike to the rest of the bands statuesque poses. I could have used a bit more emotion. Drop to your knees with the mic stand, James Brown style, or raise your arms to the Gods of high notes. There was no such posturing. But, his bopping and clapping was still fairly infectious.

They only played one hit, “Remedy” which I was afraid might happen. I know the hits and I know the new album a little bit, so I was lost most of the night. However, instead of anxiously awaiting a song I knew, I just went along for the ride and took what they gave. The highlight was when they brought out opening act Vetiver (never heard of ‘em, so didn’t see them) for a couple of songs. The first was “You Ain’t Going Nowhere” by the Byrds, a song I love and was elated to hear. Both bands made for about 12-15 people on the stage and it became an acoustic hootenanny, like one of those barnburner jams you see on one of those all-star concerts where different performers trade off taking a verse or solo. I was pretty proud of myself for knowing, what I assumed was, an obscure song so I made sure people could see my singing along by pulling my patented move of needlessly looking on either side of me, as if I’m waiting for someone. In my mind, I’m hoping people are not only impressed that I know the words to this weird little song, but also assuming I must be important since I’m obviously looking around with a purpose. After the Byrds ditty, they did “Will the Circle Be Unbroken”, the perfect choice.

Unfortunately, after this high point, the show turned into the jam I was trying to avoid. Three songs filled up the next 45 minutes or so and I don’t think any of them even had lyrics, depriving us of Chris’s voice which is their best asset. That part got long, but not really boring, luckily.

By the end, I was mostly satisfied. It hit me that the Robinson boys are no posers. They have a deep appreciation for roots and classic rock and aren’t wading in the shallow end of the pool. They’re in it legitimately and the love and respect run deep and naturally. God bless ‘em for it.

Downtown Owl

I just read a book I really didn’t like, by a writer I’m normally very devoted to.

If you don’t know who Chuck Klosterman is, he’s a sort of pop culture critic and writer that I often enjoy. It’s similar to the affection that I have for Rob Sheffield, although I like Rob better. Chuck has published four other books, two of which I own. One of them is Fargo Rock City, which is his critical analysis of and argument for the artistic validity of 80s hair metal. Upon reading the book, I too became a fan of the genre, which I never was before, proudly, and have loaned the book out to many. He’s seen as a sort of expert on metal and has helped me see the light.

Well, that light just went out after reading Downtown Owl, his first work of fiction. Let’s just say, fiction isn’t his strong suit. It’s basically, the story of a handful of locals in Owl, ND and the flow and routines of their lives. It all ends abruptly in a cataclysmic flurry, which is the only way it could have because prior to that it was going nowhere.

My problem with the book is that everyone spoke in the same voice, which is Chuck’s critic voice. There was no sense of character because almost no one had distinct mannerisms or colloquialisms. A lot of the book takes place in bars with people spouting and philosophizing, but they all talk about the stuff Chuck wants them to talk about like music, football, cars, movies and North Dakota, where he’s from. My other problem was that the book takes place in 1983-84, yet no one spoke like that. There was no sense of time or place, except in some of the topics that were being discussed. Surprisingly, he thanks Rob in the book for helping him write it. I wonder if Rob was just too nice to tell him what was up.

If it sounds boring, good, because it was. Sorry, Chuck, but you don’t get a pass this time.

I'd Like a Side of Bacon

Has a more likable actor made more inconsequential movies than Kevin Bacon? Always a welcome presence in any film, he’s managed to have a career by being both noticeable and invisible at the same time. Does anyone not like Kev? Of course not. Does anyone care if he has a movie coming out? Of course not.

The first and last time crowds lined up for a Bacon flick was Footloose, 25 years ago. He’s smart enough to catch onto this because he rarely headlines big studio films anymore, the last one being last year’s bizarrely terrible Death Sentence and before that was way back in 2001 with Hollow Man. Anything he leads doesn’t really make money, so it seems he’s content to be a supporter, which is a role he’s suited for.

He doesn’t realize this, but he’s not a great actor. He’s good, and he has, not charisma, but a natural affability that is never off-putting. It’s only when he tries to act that he shoots himself in the foot, which is probably why he hasn’t taken a demanding role in nearly 20 years. He lacks range, which is the hallmark of any great actor. But, he is serviceable in drama or comedy, as long as neither is too broad, which is probably why he gets cast in important films like JFK, A Few Good Men, Apollo 13, and Mystic River, but none of those are good because of him (although he ALWAYS saves a film from totally sucking), nor were they hits thanks to his chutzpah. That isn’t a bad career actually, reap the benefits, but never be blamed when something fails.

Have you ever been in a social situation where you didn’t know anyone, except for maybe one person and you only sort of know them, but you cling to them and chat away because they’re a safe beacon compared to standing alone? Think a work happy hour, or your in-law’s family reunion, or when you had to break into teams in a class you didn’t have any friends in. He’s that guy. He’s the good guy that’s a safe bet. He’s the guy that, if you were forced to carpool with him, it wouldn’t be too bad and you could probably share a couple good laughs. He’s the theatrical equivalent of a Chris Isaak. Some hits early on, now he just goes about doing his thing without bothering anybody. It's almost always good. Nobody minds, some are pleased to hear from him again, but it isn’t causing ripples anywhere.

He just turned 50, so he isn’t growing old tragically like John Cusack, or a past his prime blowhard like Kevin Costner, or over-exposed like Samuel L. Jackson. He just is and nobody minds or notices.

I wish him the best, I really do. He could have small roles in every movie for all I care. He has no shtick that gets old or anything. The poor guy is just going to have a career like a blue collar factory worker. Punch the clock day after day. Do your best. Don’t bother anyone and no one bothers you. Live a good life, but maybe only make a lasting impression on those that know you best, even if people in general are grateful for the service you render.

Incidentally, he has an even less notable music career fronting the Bacon Brothers. In fact, they were on Craig Ferguson the other night and weren't half bad. But, much like his movies, I wish him well, but I'm not buying the album. The rub is, I hate myself for feeling that way. He was in Footloose for crying out loud! I'll say it again, who doesn't like Kev?!

Lost Gem of the 80s #14: Glen Burtnick - "Talking In Code" (1986)

I’m going to coin a new musical genre right here: "Stallone Music". These are songs or sounds often heard during action sequences or training montages featured prominently during Sly’s 80s heyday of films such as Rocky 2,3, and 4, Cobra, Over the Top, Tango and Cash and the Rambo movies. The obvious pioneer of this genre is Survivor’s “Eye of the Tiger”, we all know that one. But, it’s augmented by the likes of Kenny Loggins, Sammy Hagar, Asia, Eddie Money and the unforgettable John Cafferty and the Beaver Brown Band. Many other performers can be lumped into this group based on sharing similar DNA. Glen Burtnick is one of those guys.

Despite being a top-notch 80s songwriter, Glen was doomed from the start by being cursed with the surname Burtnick. Chicks don’t put posters of a guy named Burtnick on their wall (although they forgave Ralph Macchio, so maybe I’m wrong). Guys don’t grow up wanting to rock like Burtnick. Women don’t want to sleep with Burtnick, and Rocky is not going to spar with Apollo to a Burtnick. So, this minimizes your possibilities greatly.

Secondly, as I mentioned, he was a good songwriter for the 80s. His stuff could only truly come to life under the façade of era-specific production. In other words, Glen performing his hits acoustically in a coffee shop is not where you want to experience him (even though I’m sure he’s out there looking for that exact gig as you read this).

And, lastly, he had the kind of high registered, nasally voice and slim frame of a kid who was picked on in school, grew a mullet upon graduation, had a knack for snappy pop songs, and morphed into a rock star while those who knew him, knew the truth.

Now, why should you listen to him? Because he’s fun. Because he had the goods, even if it was never fully acknowledged. His songs are catchy and, while never used, tailor-made for 80s cinema. Stallone film soundtracks had to straddle a very fine line between machismo and sensitivity. If you were too macho (Van Halen) or wussy (Journey) you weren’t invited to the party. The template was simple: crunchy guitars to please the boys and some sweeping synths for the ladies. This was the world inhabited by Foreigner, Loverboy, and Jeff Healy. This is a world we all secretly love. This is a world we think about when we’regrinding it out on the treadmill. This is a world we miss.

Sadly, Glen never really had a hit. There might be a song here or there that sounds vaguely familiar, but that’s it. His albums are all out of print and hard to find, and his live shows have been relegated to local bars and maybe a county fair if he’s lucky. And, to make matters worse, I can’t find a youtube clip of the best song on Talking In Code, “Crank It Up” (again, only in the 80s did that phrase even sound menacing). There isn’t much out there (“Little Red House” has a video posted, but isn’t the best example of what I’m talking about). The best clip to satiate your curiosity (I know you’re dying), would be for his modest hit “Follow You” off the album that came after Code, Heroes & Zeroes.

So, next time you decide to rip the sleeves off your t-shirt, grow your hair long, test drive a Trans Am, or throw on an acid washed denim jacket, let Glen be your soundtrack. He’s good enough and, Lord knows, he could probably use the work.

The Nugget - "Crank It Up" The link has snippets of all the tracks, so you'll get the idea. This is what should have been playing when Sly was looking for the strength to work that crazy move on the other arm wrestlers in Over The Top.