Alive

Pimposterous: Unbelievably smooth.
His outfit is totally pimposterous!

Yes, I'm still alive, whether you like it or not. So let's catch up, yeah?

I must say I’ve felt kind of funny this weekend. Besides general loopiness caused by sleep deprivation and the anxiety of the future, I finished the last episode of Freaks & Geeks this afternoon and felt seriously unsettled. The last ten minutes left my mouth watering for more, but there was nothing left to eat.

Will Lindsay get caught for following the Grateful Dead tour instead of going to the academic summit? Was there weird sexual tension between her and Mr. Rosso, or is it just me? Is Daniel a geek now that he’s playing Dungeons and Dragons with the boys? Is Cindy Sanders going to murder Sam in his sleep for dumping her? So does this mean that Nick likes disco now? What’s that all about? So many questions and not an answer in sight. Such is life.

In case you’re interested at all, I wrote a review of Inglourious Basterds recently. It wasn’t published or anything, just for practice. Here:

It’s amusing to imagine the loud (and explicit) expressions of joy that must have come from the Weinstein brothers’ mouths last weekend as Inglourious Basterds knocked out anticipated box office predictions. Their golden boy had done it again, and perhaps that’s because Quentin Tarantino is paradoxically uninterested in the kind of calculated success so much of the industry foams over.

The director’s image constantly seems to be evolving—just when you think he must be as maniacal as the characters he creates, he goes and guest-judges something as family friendly as American Idol. It is clear Tarantino is not afraid to take risks with his own artistic image and body of work, which is apparent in his latest picture. Two foreign languages, a number of unknown European actors and not a Jheri curl in sight could have been a disastrous formula. Diehard QT fans may have been bored by too much war history and not enough jive while skeptics hoping for something new from the auteur felt the film still reeked of Tarantino. But hell, it worked.

Basterds parallels two stories of characters seeking the same revenge against Nazis—a girl named Shosanna whose family was murdered under the command of Colonel Landa and a squad of Jewish-American soldiers aiming to live up to their infamy. Their plots collide when Shosanna, played by graceful French actress Mélanie Laurent with the unfortunate resemblance to The Hills star Heidi Montag, decides to host a Nazi propaganda film premiere at her theater in Paris, which the Basterds infiltrate by posing as an Italian camera crew, explosives strapped to their ankles.

The historical war genre is new for Tarantino, but the action-comedy-gross-out hybrid is not. And do not fear, his signature is still very legible. In addition to the use of juxtaposed music like David Bowie, the film employs some old gags the viewer is sure to recognize. There’s something undeniably wonderful about seeing the name “Hugo Stiglitz” in big, bright, porn star letters.

Another familiar element that seems more pronounced in this film than in his others is the self-reflexivity of movies and their making. Besides the chemistry lesson on the flammability of celluloid film base, courtesy of Samuel L. Jackson, and the character of the British film critic, Inglourious Basterds is sprinkled with obscure references to early German filmmakers (is he talking about Pabst Blue Ribbon?). The climax even takes place in a theater with an audience mirroring our own delightful, trance-like state, except that they’re, you know, evil Nazis. When Shosanna’s face hijacks the screen as she informs the clueless viewers that they’re about to die then devilishly laughs, I was half-waiting for someone to scream, “Fire!” in German.

This similar kind of direct communication from character to audience is of course evident in the last few moments of the film as Lieutenant Raine carves a swastika into Colonel Landa’s forehead, the two men staring deeply into the camera. Raine tells the Bear Jew “I think this could be my masterpiece.” By the way all fifteen rows behind me were cheering, it seems perhaps it is, Mr. Tarantino. Mazel tov.

Thanks for getting through it, if you actually did.

Anywho, if I haven’t told you already, I’ve officially decided to teach English in Thailand within the next few months. I’m looking at a TESOL course that starts in Chiang Mai Nov. 9th. I’m nervous and had some reservations, but something feels very now or never to me so I’m just going to take the plunge. The timing is right—I end my internship in seven weeks or so, will have made some money and have no commitments or attached strings after that. I’m ready for an adventure. My plan is to be back by early to mid summer, however I know that time frames with these kinds of things can easily change. You will see me again within the next year though. I can guarantee that. I think.

Wow, what a visually boring post this has been. Let's change that:

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I guess that’s the report for now. I’ll try to touch back sooner. Until next time, long live freaks, geeks and every self-loathing youngster in between.


J.