Tuesday, January 31, 2006
How to Watch the State of the Union Address
Saturday, January 28, 2006
Sicko. (me)
posted by RICK : 10:57 AM
For the past week I've had the type of sore-throat that I feel compelled to qualify as "THE WORST," which shouldn't be confused with the sentiment, "Dude, I have, like, the worst sore throat." People who say that usually mean, "Dude, the feeling in my throat is inconsistent with how it normally feels, and I find this generally unpleasant."
What makes my brand of throat-pain worse is that it seems to be the lone symptom of my current sickness. No headache. No fever. No Rheumatoid Arthritis. Just a sore-throat (and an ear-ache, but I guess the two are kind of one in the same). Anyway, having JUST a sore-throat is THE WORST because it gives you nothing else to focus on. "Hmmm," you think, "I wonder what its going to feel like when I swallow this bite of Banana-Nut Muffin? Oh! That's right! It's going to feel like eating rusty-tacks and sand!" Sidebar: banana-nut muffins are delicious.
So I'm sick. (Not to be confused with "I'm so sick.")
This has caused me problems in the following ways:
1) We're suppose to move from gorgeous, tree-lined Bushwick, Brooklyn (where everyone knows your name and greets you with a smile on their face) to grungy poor-infested Manhattan (home to the 2x4 with a nail in it to the back of the skull). I'm very excited about this move. The guys with muscles are showing up Sunday morning at 9am to haul over our large items. (I told this to someone at work and they said, "Guys with muscles? Where'd you find them? In a Chelsea bar?" I quickly replied, "I said guys with muscles... not muscle-Ts!" Wow, I'm quite the jokester). This is no time for jokes. My goal all week was to move the smaller stuff residing in our current apartment via suitcases a little bit every night before the actual move. I've done this once since Monday. I have a ton of packing left to do, but it keeps getting put off because I've been spending most (not all, I did watch The Office last night. It was funny) of my time trying to sleep and/or sucking on lozenges attempting to curb the pain. I've also being doing #2.
2) As in this one. #2. C'mon, get your heads out of the gutter you punks! Wednesday night, at the request of loved ones, I decided that I should really try to go see a doctor Thursday morning. I was suppose to work at 1:30pm. After all, I now am a proud beneficiary of corporate health-care.
There is a catch.
I don't understand how any of this stuff works. All I know is that my wallet now holds 2 cards. One will apparently allow me to be treated for a tiny fee, and the other will apparently allow me to be given prescription drugs-- for a tiny fee. There's also some business about CERTAIN physicians I can see and CO-PAYS and DEDUCTIBLES and other things that I am clueless about (they gave us a big packet at work. I've thumbed most of it. Seems, more or less, like a good deal for $8 a week). I perused the healthcare website to try and find a doctor. Assuming I did things correctly it said that there were 3 doctors I could see in Manhattan. Two of them were Chinese. Does this matter? Shouldn't, and yet I didn't call either. And of course, a select few would then point out that I also don't particularly care for Chinese food, but allow me to be very clear: I don't hate Chinese people.
Moving on.
I suspected that this whole doctor business was going to take up most of my pre-work time, so I went to be early (and secretly hoping that over the course of the evening my body would rise up and revolt against the bacteria that has been plaguing me-- hrmm... was the 'plague' bacterial? Note to self: research the plague).
I got up at 6am to call the doctor that the internets suggested I call. No one was in. I called again at 7 and again was greeted with voicemail. Eight-O-clock, the same. Someone DID answer at 9. This was good. I asked if they could fit me in. She said yes. She asked if I had insurance. I said yes. She asked if I knew where they were located. I said, "You're right off 14th street, right?" She said, "No, we moved to the Bronx."
I've never been to the Bronx and I'll be damned if I was going to start today.
My next idea was to put on my coat, my hat, my gloves (and basically the clothes I had been wearing the previous day), leave the apartment, and wander the Brooklyn streets until I found a doctor who would prescribe me medicines.
I went to three places covering about 25 blocks. The first place didn't have a doctor in on Thursdays-- this doesn't really explain why they were open though. The second place was booked until March. I thought that maybe if I was lucky my sore-throat would stick around until then, but figured that it'd just heal itself-- or I'd drop dead wayyyy before hand. The third place was a bit of a mixed blessing. They took my appointment, but they didn't take my insurance. Well, kinda. They wrote down my information, ran it through what I believed to be some kind of punch-card machine, and then told me that I had a $600 deductible. I didn't know what this meant because, like I said, I don't understand insurance. "That's okay," I told them. I mean, my throat hurt! I would have easily traded a pinkie for a bottle of antibiotics.
I sat down in the waiting room for a few minutes and read some New York magazine. Eventually I was called into a room, asked to take off my shirt, and was then placed on a table and had about 12 electrodes stuck to my not-so-hairy-but-hairy-enough chest. They were going to do an E-?-?. My mind kept thinking, "Wait, isn't it your throat?" but I figured these people were DOCTORS and probably could figure it all out. Twenty minutes later the test hadn't been done because the woman couldn't figure out how to get the paper to feed into the printer. "Let's just forget about this one," she said right before ripping the electrodes (and my hair) from my delicate chestal region.
"Now we're going to do an ultrasound on your heart to make sure its functioning properly." I always assumed that being able to walk around, communicate, and make dry, inoffensive remarks also proved that my heart was working properly-- and the fact that I was currently alive. I mean, I don't really know anything about how the human body works, but it seems to me that if your heart isn't working it's probably because you're dead. Though it could also be that you just don't know how to express love very well. Either one, really.
Next, I ended up back in the lobby reading an article on The Strokes. It left me underwhelmed. Eventually I was called to the back to have tests done on my hearing and balance. It was a lot like primary school. I sat in a booth with headphones on listening for the beep, and then a bigger kid who come over, punch me in the stomach and steal my lunch money-- unfortunately, I can no longer eat for 85-cents.
[BEEP]
I score rather well, despite spending much of my youth listening to loud rock and roll music in a Nissan.
[BEEP]
Next up was the balance test. This involved more electrodes (this time around my eyes!) and me staring a moving red dot. Boy can that dot move! I kept up real good.
[BEEP]
Okay, so these tests wrapped up and I was growing more comfortable in the roll of Northern-Brooklyn's Guinea Pig, and yet the prospect of a drug prescription seemed as far off as flying cars and jetpants.
I went back to the lobby (that's thrice for those keeping score), and sat. This time, when my name was called, it was by "The Doctor." I went into his office and he filled me in.
"So it says you have a sore throat," he says while looking at my mouth. "Oh, yeah, that's real nasty. It also says you have a $600 deductible. So what we're going to do is run a bunch of tests on you. You'll have to come back in next week. Once we hit the $600 mark everything is covered, so today we'll do the heart and ears and next week we'll work on the abdomen... are you allergic to anything?"
Penicillin.
"See we're not going to charge you, we let the insurance take care of all that. So if you get a bill from us, just tear it up. Here's a prescription for your throat."
Jumangi!
"But we'll need to see you next week for more tests-- we have to hit that $600 mark. But its good to do this at the beginning of the year, that way you can go wherever you want the rest of the year. You could go to the Mayo Clinic if you want to!"
Wow, a whole clinic made of delicious mayo!?
And then he let me go, and I was on my way. After filling the prescription at the local Duane Reade the whole day cost me a whopping $8.50. Not bad.
But here's the catch: I feel like this deductible nonsense might come back to bite me in the arse. I mean, I still have to pay that $600, right? And if I do, why would I want to go back for more tests... shouldn't I just stop while I'm ahead and pay, maybe a couple hundred? Do I really want to go back next week and get treated to a $600 colonic, on the assumption that it'll save me money over the course of the year?
Yeah, no. I'll play it by ear.
Anyway, it's now Saturday morning, and I'd say that my throat might actually feel worse than it did on Thursday-- but my disposition is much improved. Maybe he gave me the wrong drugs. In any case, I've been working wayyyy too much for someone who is likely sick and was likely contangious (sorry fellow maybe-infected employees).
Tomorrow morning the guys with muscles come (which sounds kind of like the tag line to an all-male-review).
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Tuesday, January 24, 2006
2 media items for pontification
Sunday, January 22, 2006
Adventures in the Obsolete Vol. 1: The Laugh Track
posted by RICK : 12:45 PM
Some things never seem to die, even when everyone knows they serve no purpose in modern society-- like "two guitars." Adventures in the Obsolete hopes to examine these immortal phenomena.
Up first: The Laugh Track.
The other day I downloaded the first season of "I'm Alan Partridge," the BBC series starring Steve Coogan about the titular talk show host and his lovely cluelessness. I was quite pumped about seeing this as I find Coogan to be pretty great in whatever I've seen him in (covering most of what he's done on this side of the pond-- which I've read isn't so much a "pond" as it is the "world's second largest ocean"). I wanted to get a sense of his more famous roles in Britian before I see "Tristram Shandy: A Cock and Bull Story." The movie sounds completely crazy (not Bubble-crazy, just normal-crazy). I suspect the movie will have some referrences to Mr. Coogan's series. I'd like to 'get' those.
ANYWAY.
I load the first episode and without a beat its off and running. I'm loving it:Alan Partridge (sitting behind an audio board at a radio station): That was Big Yellow Taxi by Joni Mitchell, a song in which Joni complains they 'Paved paradise to put up a parking lot', a measure which actually would have alleviated traffic congestion on the outskirts of paradise, something which Joni singularly fails to point out, perhaps because it doesn't quite fit in with her blinkered view of the world. Nevertheless, nice song.
Unfortunately, as soon as the words begin to come out of his mouth you start to hear the slow fill of audience laughter. An audience that is CLEARLY no where near the set and laughing in a way that suggests getting hit in the groin with a football more than subtle character quirks.
I watched the show for about 3 more minutes before turning it off in disgust. The laugh track killed what was shaping up to be a brilliant show. I'm not even sure I can go back and finish the first episode let alone the remaining 5.
Early in the evolution of sound in cinema, people thought that putting music on the soundtrack would confuse the audience-- they suspected the viewer wouldn't understand that the music wasn't suppose to be IN the scene, but instead used to enhance the scene. Whoever "they" were, they were clearly wrong. One could even take it a step further and argue that it's a safe bet that most people's favorite moments in movies involve a song being played over the soundtrack. What's funny is this argument seems to have never been made for the laugh track on television.
Its origins are acceptable. Radio plays were done in a theater in front of an actual audience; the listeners at home could hear that. Obviously it made perfect sense to port that to television, but they also brought the audience with them. The situation-comedy, in its most pure form, shouldn't be anything more than a short play acted in front of people-- and then rebroadcast. That is why the best all-time sitcoms relied on great characters and few sets. "The Dick Van Dyke Show" rarely felt the need to show Rob Petri anywhere besides his living room and his office. Even better would be "Cheers" which is almost entirely shot in the bar. THAT's a sit-com, and the laugh track isn't only acceptable, but its expected. Of course, that type of program isn't made anymore. A big reason why I quit watching "How I Met Your Mother" was they simply had too many sets, and yet wouldn't give up the 3-camera crutch. It's comedy also relies partially on the editing process-- something that is impossible for a live studio audience to respond to. I guess we can blame "Seinfeld," the last great laugh-track show. They broke the "set" rules but were able to make it work because the writing and acting were so damn strong.
But the moral of the story stays the same: the laugh track is dead. We're smarter audiences these days (even the morons are smarter), and we don't need to be pandered to-- well, maybe a little pandering. There are more than enough shows without the track completely accepted by the masses, and yet we're still adding laughs. Why?
Probably laziness. That seems like a good go-to excuse for most things in life, yeah? I'll say!
When you're working with something that is obsolete, you eventually have to suck it up and grasp onto the new technology whether you like it or not. When will this happen? Lord knows, but I suspect it will happen around the same time people start getting most of their programming from the likes of Google and iTunes. So 2008. Until then...
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Episode 1 Hat: R.I.P.
posted by RICK : 12:26 AM
For the past month I've been wearing this Episode 1 ball-cap.
It was a great cap. It was great because it was lived-in. When I bought it in the spring of 99 I wore it all the time-- specifically while playing ultimate frisbee. Because of this it got a lovely salt-ring around the edges from sweet summer frisbee sweats. I started wearing it again when I found it in my bedroom back in Omaha. Also, I decided to not get my hair cut and needed a hat to control the madness that is my hair. Here's a picture of me and some hidden personalities having a good time while I wear the hat:
Generally speaking, I think most people hated the Episode 1 hat. For starters, it was disgusting looking (as mentiond earlier). Also, it said "Episode 1" in giant letters. That is incredibly uncool. Incredibly.
Tonight I'm walking down Avenue B and a huge gust of wind blow my hat right off my head! I chase it down the street and finally nab it, but its too late, the buckle broke off:
NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!
So now I'm stuck with this longish, rediculous, mane of hair AND NO HAT!
Here's what my head currently looks like:
Clearly I need a new hat. Something, anything, to cover up my god-awful receding-do. What do you thing?
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Wednesday, January 18, 2006
Globes
Monday, January 16, 2006
BPM
"Chicago is the new Jenny"
Sunday, January 15, 2006
Strip Generator
Saturday, January 14, 2006
"Funny Ha Ha"
posted by RICK : 1:52 PM
My kind roommate let me borrow his Netflix'd copy of Funny Ha Ha last night. I knew little of the film outside of its name, and really had little to no motivation for watching it. I didn't know what it was about-- maybe something about a dinner party, I don't know-- and felt it was, generally speaking, one of those "critically acclaimed" films that I feel I should try to watch sometime, but never do-- like "Schindler's List."
But then I read this article on Slate (in Slate?) about the director's next film, Mutual Appreciation, and immediately decided that "Funny Ha Ha" needed to be watched.
I made the right decision.
"Funny Ha Ha" is a film that is greater than the sum of its parts. Even the subject matter, early 20-somethings coming to grips with post-graduate adulthood, couldn't be more cliche for a film shot on 16mm and starring what is essentially the cast of "Slacker." And yet it works. Really works. And I can't tell if its the amazing writing, or amazing acting, or amazing improv (probably all three), but I can't remember a time when I watched a fiction film and was as captivated by the characters as I was in this one. Maybe I can remember-- "Swingers?"
From the spring of 1998 to the spring of 1999 I watched "Swingers" at some points as many as three times a week. It started because I found the movie undeniably hilarious (and still do), but eventually I knew every beat of the jokes and ended up sticking around because it's an easy movie to imagine myself as the characters. Jon Favreau, to his great credit, created individuals who were both what I wanted to become and what I currently was. I imagine the same can be said for other people who were fans of the movie. After all, at the age of 17, nothing strikes a chord more to a heterosexual male than the story of a guy getting over a girl, because most often "a girl is a girl" but in "Swingers" getting over the girl can really be about getting over anything-- school, youth, a girl. There's also the introvert wanting to be the extrovert facet of the film, which is incredibly appealing to someone that doesn't like to talk to strangers. "Swingers" in a weird way, was my gateway to adulthood. Life-drama never really seemed as big a deal after, and maybe that's a sad sentiment and that I've clearly been spending the past 8 years inhabiting some sort of tragic fantasyland, but it has gotten me this far.
Watching "Funny Ha Ha" last night brought all those feelings back, but in a different way. I wasn't projecting myself onto those characters because my lifestyle and theirs, while not being mutually exclusive, aren't really all that similar either. Perhaps what I found most interesting was that, unlike "Swingers," I felt that maybe the characters in "Funny Ha Ha" were how I was suppose to end up. It's the feeling of experiencing the same thing at two completely different points in your life. The plot of "Funny Ha Ha" couldn't be much thinner (which I love), but the basic premise deals with the notion that the post-collegiate-urban-hipster typically finds themselves in one of two camps, 1) employed by a company you are indifferent to and thus spend your non-working hours going from party to party drinking away your boredom or 2) unemployed and thus spend your non-working hours going from party to party drinking away your boredom, and sometimes trying to look for temporary work. Both of these types are also poor communicators, despite most evidence pointing to many communications degrees scattered amongst them. I find myself closer to group #1 than to #2, but I've never been much of a hard-core drinker, and frankly find myself too motivated to be that disillusioned. But I'm watching this movie and looking at these characters in their retro-tees and bedhead and PBR and thinking, "I know that this movie is suppose to make me thankful that I'm not living in a state of post-ironic purgatory, but goddamn if that lifestyle isn't appealing!" Sure, I have a regular job and earn a decent wage, and while going from house-party to house-party might be a sorry existence, it also seems completely acceptable and dare I say necessary.
After all, the characters in "Funny Ha Ha" aren't going to die alone in the gutter. They're going to die alone (or surrounded by family... but definitely dead) in their suburban split-levels or downtown condos because people with a means usually pull it together at some point. Maybe that's why I found the film so pleasant-- there's never any real danger or real drama. The characters in this environment, as in reality, are essentially safe. Sure, there are rocky times, but this isn't Baghdad. Watching this lifestyle portrayed so perfectly on film comes off, at least to this viewer, as relatively optimistic.
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Wednesday, January 11, 2006
Lost
Distraction: a delightful game show.
posted by RICK : 4:53 PM
Before both this season and the previous one, Comedy Central ran myriad ads trying to pump up viewership for their new gameshow "Distraction," and both times I found the show to have an interesting premise, but not a whole lot else. It didn't have the stakes of a "Win Ben Stein's Money" or the grab of a "Beat the Geeks," and the whole Double-Dare-Stunts thing always seems a bit forced.
Well, all of this is true until you actually watch an episode. The show is endlessly fasciniting and exceptionally hillarious. Most notable is the parade of creativity used in each of the shows rounds of questioning. Last night some of the highlights included launching a pie at your face every time you buzz in for an answer, and then in another round having to answer questions while simulataneously adding clothespins to your face. It's not exactly the most highbrow, but damn if it isn't fun to watch.
A personal favorite episode from last season dealth with 4 contestants having to sit in a bathroom stall after drinking a gallon of water. They then had to "buzz-in" to answer trivia questions by being the first to pee. Yes, it sounds absolutley horrifying, but amazingly it comes off as playful.
Bottomline: watch DISTRACTION (Comedy Central - check listings).
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Tuesday, January 10, 2006
New Release Tuesday.
Saturday, January 07, 2006
Rollergrrrrls
posted by RICK : 11:12 AM
"Camp and irony have come to the point where we can no longer deem something legitimately awful."
-BAP
At the time of that quote Mr. Flextimer and I were discussing the incredibly ridiculous pop-sensation "My Humps." He stated, justifiably, that it might be the single worst song ever to hit the charts. While I don't totally agree with the sentiment (every era has its radio mysteries-- "Baby Got Back" anyone?), I completely understand his reasoning: irony is out of control.
In the current climate everything is good, because even if it may come off as bad, it can be spun into a "cult sensation" or "guilty pleasure." And while I'm as guilty of this as anyone (yeah, I've downloaded "My Humps" AND listen to it frequently), it is absolutely destroying popular media. No wonder Arrested Development is getting canceled. Why would a network or studio want to shell out dollars for a good writing team when they can simply put a camera in a room full of retarded leprechauns and let the ad money simply roll in?
Being greeted with indifference is perhaps the worst fate for a show. When good is good and bad is good, the only real "bad" is mediocrity, which just might be the death-blow to the legitimately good program Rollergirls (A&E, Mondays @ 10pm est)- a "reality" show about the girls (or is it grrrls?) who compete in the Lone Star Rollergirls league in Austin. I quoted "reality" because this show is produced by the genius team that brought the world "Laguna Beach"-- an almost cinematic reality program on MTV designed to compete with FOX's fictional "The OC." I can't get myself to watch "Laguna." Not because I take issue with it's liberal use of the reality-moniker (after all, we've gone everywhere from The Real World to Survivor to the Joe Schmo Show to K-Street to the West West Wing, and who really gives a fuck if the characters are real or not*) but because I take issue with the show's peddling of a lifestyle where a bunch of rich cunts drive SUVs and paint their nails and complain about boys and their lives and how daddy didn't love them all while throwing rocks at the maid and forcing the immigrant gardener to-- look I've never seen this show. I have no idea what actually happens on it, but it doesn't matter. The IDEA of "Laguna Beach" is enough to make me hate it-- which happens to be draped in layers of irony as a slightly colder version of myself would probably LOVE it. So bad it's good, right? Wrong. The difference being that, in my mind, the target audience is 13-15 year-old girls who aren't going to interpret the show as anything other than "this is the way I'm suppose to live." I find this completely wreckless. Move the show to M2 and play it before "Wonder Shozen" and suddenly we're talking about a different beast altogether. But we aren't.
What makes "Rollergirls" significant is that it does what television is so perfect at-- giving the viewer a look into a lifestyle that is not their own. And in the case of this show, that lifestyle isn't necessarily one about indie-chicks wearing fishnets and beating the living piss out of one another, its about a generation of 20-somethings who aren't graphic designers or rock critics or running internet companies, but are carving out a place for themselves in an America that increasingly seems to think they don't matter. Look, Zach Braff didn't invent the quarter-life-crisis and for some people changing your life might need to be a little more visceral than "New Slang," which is to say that, yes, the fishnets and beating the piss out of one another is a definite plus.
What I responded to while watching the premiere episode on my computer last night was that this is the type of show that has the capability of attracting a demographic desperately in need of mainstream validation. Those people being the heartland's media elite. Digital cable, the internet and Netflix have made it possible for anyone not living in New York or Los Angeles to be as media savvy as their pretentious coast-dwelling kin. "Rollergirls" is a purple-state show if ever there was one. It takes place in the heart of Texas, though that heart happens to be Austin (the oasis). Also, the characters are predominantly middle-to-lower class-- a group that has been severely under-served across the television spectrum since the cancellation of Roseanne. Of course, this isn't the case for all of them. One girl, Venis Envy, who was the focus of this first episode was a former art-student who decided to buy a camper with her hipster boyfriend and travel the country living nomad life. This sounds like hipster chic, until you realize living out of a van is, generally speaking, not the American dream, but maybe for some-- actually I kind of hope it is.
Most refreshing, though, is Rollergirls' blatant sexuality that is everpresent, but never comes off as forced. The creators do an great job of presenting the girls as matter-of-fact as possible. I mean, let's not kid ourselves here, the underlying principles in Roller Derby are the marketing of sex and violence as entertainment, and perhaps that's exactly why it seems to work so well. This isn't WWE. The girls aren't silicone filled body-builders. They are, simply put, incredibly regular-- only tattooed, wearing little and kicking ass. It's post-feminist, but what's better is that its solidly representational of people living in the mid-United States. Also, a Hilton sister is nowhere to be found.
It should probably be noted that the last reality show I watched all the way through was The Real World #10 (back in New York), and even then the only reason I could justify watching was that I found myself stuck in front of a television running a marathon once and figured, what the hell. Perhaps this explains why I find the show so fantastic. Maybe "Rollergirls" is a reality show for people who patently hate reality shows. Unsurprisingly, more than one critic finds it bottom-rung, but I would argue that they simply don't know the audience.
Which brings things back to the original problem. If "Rollergirls" fails it will be because it isn't all that groundbreaking in the tradition "its not TV" sort of way and will hardly garner any sort of acclaim (this isn't the Amazing Fucking Race, now is it?), and yet it isn't the campy mess some were probably hoping for, making the series a perfect supplement to a 40 and pot-brownies. "Rollergirls" should not be missed, despite these shortcomings. Real or not, its representational of America, and not the guilty-pleasure part of America... the part that is just pleasure. Pleasure, and life.
NOTE: I feel like this subject matter also lends itself to the subject of co-opting indie-culture. Or the notion of indie-culture for the masses, and how utterly ridiculous that phrase is, but I've written too much. Perhaps another day.
*Interesting sidebar: I'm kind of fascinated by what level or realism people want out of their media. Most dramas score points for being as true-to-life they can possibly be. A show labeled as "gritty" is suppose to be "real" which then theoretically makes it "good." And yet, no one apparently wants to watch a comedy that is real, because it makes them uncomfortable (which is why, I suppose, The Office, can't hold onto Earl's numbers-- a show that is exceptionally unreal). What's even more peculiar is that the "Reality" programming that people respond to are all based on premises that border on the surreal. I mean, there's a "Reality Show" whose name is "The Surreal Life" and if anyone can explain that to me, I'll ship you your weight in aged cheese. The Real World has never really been about (save for the first 2.3 seasons) BEING REAL. Reality rarely comes with a furnished loft and the ability NOT to work. In fact, one of my favorite seasons, New Orleans (8), actually had a character who was rarely in the show because he went out and got a job.
This seems to carry itself over to movies as well, but more in terms of what audiences are suppose to be scared of:
If Chloe Sevigny gives Vincent Gallo a tragic blowjob, "The Brown Bunny" gets released UNRATED or suffers from the dreadful NC-17 box-office killer, and yet Hollywood can go mad-crazy for the burgeoning torchure porn genre of horror filmmaking and no one thinks twice about it.
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Friday, January 06, 2006
Meeting Dr. Pepper
posted by RICK : 7:00 PM
While in Omaha I was planning on shooting a few scenes from a movie I've been working on for what seems like all eternity, but schedules became tight and when push came to shove I just couldn't justify making myself and my friends stay up all night roaming the frozen streets of west Omaha until the sun shows its ugly head. So instead my sister and I put together a short based on the world's greatest scientist (and on an old recoil piece). It's not high art, but it is mildly entertaining.
Apologies ahead of time for the shoddy production values, but c'mon, this is comedy not Brokeback Mountain.
Dr_Pepper.mp4 [10.4mb]
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Wednesday, January 04, 2006
The first forgettable record of 2006.
posted by RICK : 4:55 PM
Like the rest of America that is still hopelessly clinging onto the early aughts, yesterday I picked up First Impressions of Earth" by one-time supergroup The Strokes. I'm not going to say I was excited for its release, as I wasn't, but I was hoping that it would be a pleasant gem in an otherwise cold, unforgiving winter. I've had the record for about 24 hours as of this writing and have yet to get all the way through it (mostly because of time constraints and my lack of iPod), but that being said what I've heard couldn't be more boring-- or at the very least-- couldn't descend into complacency quicker. The first two tracks are exactly what I was hoping for, but then it just turns into the jangle-jangle-whine-whine formula that they never really had in the past, but always hinted at.
The very first time I heard The Stokes was on Halloween night in 2001, when I bought myself tickets to their first NYC show after the record ("Is This It?") was released. That show kicked ass. I wasn't even sure if this was a band I liked or not. All I could tell was that the crowd was going nuts, and I wasn't certain if I'd make it off the Hammerstein floor alive. Perhaps more interestingly, I didn't know at the time that this was suppose to be the Jesus Christ of rock and roll that was going to come down from the heavens and save us from a world of ultra-produced boy-bands and rap-metal. Now, I see that in order to have fulfilled the prophecy they had to eventually die. At the time I was never of the opinion, unlike many, that this band WAS the end-all, and by the time I actually got their record and decided "hey, these kids are good," the moment had already passed and the Hipster-Pontious-Pilot had called for their heads.
When the dust settles, I'm sure I'll look back (perhaps like I did with Weezer's "Make Believe") and declare "First Impressions of Earth" to be a decent record. Hell, it may even start climbing in playcount years from now when I go through my library and think, "Oh yeah, this band was awesome once!" Unfortunately, until that moment comes I'm stuck with a boring record from a band that is no longer relevent in the ever expanding family tree of rock and roll.
In other sad music news...
It has been reported that pianist/pop-freak Nellie McKay has been dropped by Columbia Records. Apparently, she wanted to release her next album (originally due this coming Tuesday) with 23 songs, and they wanted to release it with 16-songs. Why, in the age of digital music this is even an issue is absolutely beyond me, but apparently she was trying to get out of the label anyway.
Her best quote on the situation:"It ain’t no use to sit and wonder why. They kept the coffee pot, I got the dog.” She added, “All that matters to me is that I can continue to make irritating music which will baffle and enrage."
-AP
I hope the record still comes out.
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Tuesday, January 03, 2006
Such Great Heights.
Monday, January 02, 2006
Proving a point...
Welcome to "What Is Recoil?." If you would like to post something on this blog, but don't have a WIR-Blogger login, then send me an e-mail, and I'll make it happen. SHAZAM!
-Rick
(co-creator)
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Sicko. (me)
posted by RICK : 10:57 AM
For the past week I've had the type of sore-throat that I feel compelled to qualify as "THE WORST," which shouldn't be confused with the sentiment, "Dude, I have, like, the worst sore throat." People who say that usually mean, "Dude, the feeling in my throat is inconsistent with how it normally feels, and I find this generally unpleasant."
What makes my brand of throat-pain worse is that it seems to be the lone symptom of my current sickness. No headache. No fever. No Rheumatoid Arthritis. Just a sore-throat (and an ear-ache, but I guess the two are kind of one in the same). Anyway, having JUST a sore-throat is THE WORST because it gives you nothing else to focus on. "Hmmm," you think, "I wonder what its going to feel like when I swallow this bite of Banana-Nut Muffin? Oh! That's right! It's going to feel like eating rusty-tacks and sand!" Sidebar: banana-nut muffins are delicious.
So I'm sick. (Not to be confused with "I'm so sick.")
This has caused me problems in the following ways:
1) We're suppose to move from gorgeous, tree-lined Bushwick, Brooklyn (where everyone knows your name and greets you with a smile on their face) to grungy poor-infested Manhattan (home to the 2x4 with a nail in it to the back of the skull). I'm very excited about this move. The guys with muscles are showing up Sunday morning at 9am to haul over our large items. (I told this to someone at work and they said, "Guys with muscles? Where'd you find them? In a Chelsea bar?" I quickly replied, "I said guys with muscles... not muscle-Ts!" Wow, I'm quite the jokester). This is no time for jokes. My goal all week was to move the smaller stuff residing in our current apartment via suitcases a little bit every night before the actual move. I've done this once since Monday. I have a ton of packing left to do, but it keeps getting put off because I've been spending most (not all, I did watch The Office last night. It was funny) of my time trying to sleep and/or sucking on lozenges attempting to curb the pain. I've also being doing #2.
2) As in this one. #2. C'mon, get your heads out of the gutter you punks! Wednesday night, at the request of loved ones, I decided that I should really try to go see a doctor Thursday morning. I was suppose to work at 1:30pm. After all, I now am a proud beneficiary of corporate health-care.
There is a catch.
I don't understand how any of this stuff works. All I know is that my wallet now holds 2 cards. One will apparently allow me to be treated for a tiny fee, and the other will apparently allow me to be given prescription drugs-- for a tiny fee. There's also some business about CERTAIN physicians I can see and CO-PAYS and DEDUCTIBLES and other things that I am clueless about (they gave us a big packet at work. I've thumbed most of it. Seems, more or less, like a good deal for $8 a week). I perused the healthcare website to try and find a doctor. Assuming I did things correctly it said that there were 3 doctors I could see in Manhattan. Two of them were Chinese. Does this matter? Shouldn't, and yet I didn't call either. And of course, a select few would then point out that I also don't particularly care for Chinese food, but allow me to be very clear: I don't hate Chinese people.
Moving on.
I suspected that this whole doctor business was going to take up most of my pre-work time, so I went to be early (and secretly hoping that over the course of the evening my body would rise up and revolt against the bacteria that has been plaguing me-- hrmm... was the 'plague' bacterial? Note to self: research the plague).
I got up at 6am to call the doctor that the internets suggested I call. No one was in. I called again at 7 and again was greeted with voicemail. Eight-O-clock, the same. Someone DID answer at 9. This was good. I asked if they could fit me in. She said yes. She asked if I had insurance. I said yes. She asked if I knew where they were located. I said, "You're right off 14th street, right?" She said, "No, we moved to the Bronx."
I've never been to the Bronx and I'll be damned if I was going to start today.
My next idea was to put on my coat, my hat, my gloves (and basically the clothes I had been wearing the previous day), leave the apartment, and wander the Brooklyn streets until I found a doctor who would prescribe me medicines.
I went to three places covering about 25 blocks. The first place didn't have a doctor in on Thursdays-- this doesn't really explain why they were open though. The second place was booked until March. I thought that maybe if I was lucky my sore-throat would stick around until then, but figured that it'd just heal itself-- or I'd drop dead wayyyy before hand. The third place was a bit of a mixed blessing. They took my appointment, but they didn't take my insurance. Well, kinda. They wrote down my information, ran it through what I believed to be some kind of punch-card machine, and then told me that I had a $600 deductible. I didn't know what this meant because, like I said, I don't understand insurance. "That's okay," I told them. I mean, my throat hurt! I would have easily traded a pinkie for a bottle of antibiotics.
I sat down in the waiting room for a few minutes and read some New York magazine. Eventually I was called into a room, asked to take off my shirt, and was then placed on a table and had about 12 electrodes stuck to my not-so-hairy-but-hairy-enough chest. They were going to do an E-?-?. My mind kept thinking, "Wait, isn't it your throat?" but I figured these people were DOCTORS and probably could figure it all out. Twenty minutes later the test hadn't been done because the woman couldn't figure out how to get the paper to feed into the printer. "Let's just forget about this one," she said right before ripping the electrodes (and my hair) from my delicate chestal region.
"Now we're going to do an ultrasound on your heart to make sure its functioning properly." I always assumed that being able to walk around, communicate, and make dry, inoffensive remarks also proved that my heart was working properly-- and the fact that I was currently alive. I mean, I don't really know anything about how the human body works, but it seems to me that if your heart isn't working it's probably because you're dead. Though it could also be that you just don't know how to express love very well. Either one, really.
Next, I ended up back in the lobby reading an article on The Strokes. It left me underwhelmed. Eventually I was called to the back to have tests done on my hearing and balance. It was a lot like primary school. I sat in a booth with headphones on listening for the beep, and then a bigger kid who come over, punch me in the stomach and steal my lunch money-- unfortunately, I can no longer eat for 85-cents.
[BEEP]
I score rather well, despite spending much of my youth listening to loud rock and roll music in a Nissan.
[BEEP]
Next up was the balance test. This involved more electrodes (this time around my eyes!) and me staring a moving red dot. Boy can that dot move! I kept up real good.
[BEEP]
Okay, so these tests wrapped up and I was growing more comfortable in the roll of Northern-Brooklyn's Guinea Pig, and yet the prospect of a drug prescription seemed as far off as flying cars and jetpants.
I went back to the lobby (that's thrice for those keeping score), and sat. This time, when my name was called, it was by "The Doctor." I went into his office and he filled me in.
"So it says you have a sore throat," he says while looking at my mouth. "Oh, yeah, that's real nasty. It also says you have a $600 deductible. So what we're going to do is run a bunch of tests on you. You'll have to come back in next week. Once we hit the $600 mark everything is covered, so today we'll do the heart and ears and next week we'll work on the abdomen... are you allergic to anything?"
Penicillin.
"See we're not going to charge you, we let the insurance take care of all that. So if you get a bill from us, just tear it up. Here's a prescription for your throat."
Jumangi!
"But we'll need to see you next week for more tests-- we have to hit that $600 mark. But its good to do this at the beginning of the year, that way you can go wherever you want the rest of the year. You could go to the Mayo Clinic if you want to!"
Wow, a whole clinic made of delicious mayo!?
And then he let me go, and I was on my way. After filling the prescription at the local Duane Reade the whole day cost me a whopping $8.50. Not bad.
But here's the catch: I feel like this deductible nonsense might come back to bite me in the arse. I mean, I still have to pay that $600, right? And if I do, why would I want to go back for more tests... shouldn't I just stop while I'm ahead and pay, maybe a couple hundred? Do I really want to go back next week and get treated to a $600 colonic, on the assumption that it'll save me money over the course of the year?
Yeah, no. I'll play it by ear.
Anyway, it's now Saturday morning, and I'd say that my throat might actually feel worse than it did on Thursday-- but my disposition is much improved. Maybe he gave me the wrong drugs. In any case, I've been working wayyyy too much for someone who is likely sick and was likely contangious (sorry fellow maybe-infected employees).
Tomorrow morning the guys with muscles come (which sounds kind of like the tag line to an all-male-review).
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Tuesday, January 24, 2006
2 media items for pontification
Sunday, January 22, 2006
Adventures in the Obsolete Vol. 1: The Laugh Track
posted by RICK : 12:45 PM
Some things never seem to die, even when everyone knows they serve no purpose in modern society-- like "two guitars." Adventures in the Obsolete hopes to examine these immortal phenomena.
Up first: The Laugh Track.
The other day I downloaded the first season of "I'm Alan Partridge," the BBC series starring Steve Coogan about the titular talk show host and his lovely cluelessness. I was quite pumped about seeing this as I find Coogan to be pretty great in whatever I've seen him in (covering most of what he's done on this side of the pond-- which I've read isn't so much a "pond" as it is the "world's second largest ocean"). I wanted to get a sense of his more famous roles in Britian before I see "Tristram Shandy: A Cock and Bull Story." The movie sounds completely crazy (not Bubble-crazy, just normal-crazy). I suspect the movie will have some referrences to Mr. Coogan's series. I'd like to 'get' those.
ANYWAY.
I load the first episode and without a beat its off and running. I'm loving it:Alan Partridge (sitting behind an audio board at a radio station): That was Big Yellow Taxi by Joni Mitchell, a song in which Joni complains they 'Paved paradise to put up a parking lot', a measure which actually would have alleviated traffic congestion on the outskirts of paradise, something which Joni singularly fails to point out, perhaps because it doesn't quite fit in with her blinkered view of the world. Nevertheless, nice song.
Unfortunately, as soon as the words begin to come out of his mouth you start to hear the slow fill of audience laughter. An audience that is CLEARLY no where near the set and laughing in a way that suggests getting hit in the groin with a football more than subtle character quirks.
I watched the show for about 3 more minutes before turning it off in disgust. The laugh track killed what was shaping up to be a brilliant show. I'm not even sure I can go back and finish the first episode let alone the remaining 5.
Early in the evolution of sound in cinema, people thought that putting music on the soundtrack would confuse the audience-- they suspected the viewer wouldn't understand that the music wasn't suppose to be IN the scene, but instead used to enhance the scene. Whoever "they" were, they were clearly wrong. One could even take it a step further and argue that it's a safe bet that most people's favorite moments in movies involve a song being played over the soundtrack. What's funny is this argument seems to have never been made for the laugh track on television.
Its origins are acceptable. Radio plays were done in a theater in front of an actual audience; the listeners at home could hear that. Obviously it made perfect sense to port that to television, but they also brought the audience with them. The situation-comedy, in its most pure form, shouldn't be anything more than a short play acted in front of people-- and then rebroadcast. That is why the best all-time sitcoms relied on great characters and few sets. "The Dick Van Dyke Show" rarely felt the need to show Rob Petri anywhere besides his living room and his office. Even better would be "Cheers" which is almost entirely shot in the bar. THAT's a sit-com, and the laugh track isn't only acceptable, but its expected. Of course, that type of program isn't made anymore. A big reason why I quit watching "How I Met Your Mother" was they simply had too many sets, and yet wouldn't give up the 3-camera crutch. It's comedy also relies partially on the editing process-- something that is impossible for a live studio audience to respond to. I guess we can blame "Seinfeld," the last great laugh-track show. They broke the "set" rules but were able to make it work because the writing and acting were so damn strong.
But the moral of the story stays the same: the laugh track is dead. We're smarter audiences these days (even the morons are smarter), and we don't need to be pandered to-- well, maybe a little pandering. There are more than enough shows without the track completely accepted by the masses, and yet we're still adding laughs. Why?
Probably laziness. That seems like a good go-to excuse for most things in life, yeah? I'll say!
When you're working with something that is obsolete, you eventually have to suck it up and grasp onto the new technology whether you like it or not. When will this happen? Lord knows, but I suspect it will happen around the same time people start getting most of their programming from the likes of Google and iTunes. So 2008. Until then...
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Episode 1 Hat: R.I.P.
posted by RICK : 12:26 AM
For the past month I've been wearing this Episode 1 ball-cap.
It was a great cap. It was great because it was lived-in. When I bought it in the spring of 99 I wore it all the time-- specifically while playing ultimate frisbee. Because of this it got a lovely salt-ring around the edges from sweet summer frisbee sweats. I started wearing it again when I found it in my bedroom back in Omaha. Also, I decided to not get my hair cut and needed a hat to control the madness that is my hair. Here's a picture of me and some hidden personalities having a good time while I wear the hat:
Generally speaking, I think most people hated the Episode 1 hat. For starters, it was disgusting looking (as mentiond earlier). Also, it said "Episode 1" in giant letters. That is incredibly uncool. Incredibly.
Tonight I'm walking down Avenue B and a huge gust of wind blow my hat right off my head! I chase it down the street and finally nab it, but its too late, the buckle broke off:
NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!
So now I'm stuck with this longish, rediculous, mane of hair AND NO HAT!
Here's what my head currently looks like:
Clearly I need a new hat. Something, anything, to cover up my god-awful receding-do. What do you thing?
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Wednesday, January 18, 2006
Globes
Monday, January 16, 2006
BPM
"Chicago is the new Jenny"
Sunday, January 15, 2006
Strip Generator
Saturday, January 14, 2006
"Funny Ha Ha"
posted by RICK : 1:52 PM
My kind roommate let me borrow his Netflix'd copy of Funny Ha Ha last night. I knew little of the film outside of its name, and really had little to no motivation for watching it. I didn't know what it was about-- maybe something about a dinner party, I don't know-- and felt it was, generally speaking, one of those "critically acclaimed" films that I feel I should try to watch sometime, but never do-- like "Schindler's List."
But then I read this article on Slate (in Slate?) about the director's next film, Mutual Appreciation, and immediately decided that "Funny Ha Ha" needed to be watched.
I made the right decision.
"Funny Ha Ha" is a film that is greater than the sum of its parts. Even the subject matter, early 20-somethings coming to grips with post-graduate adulthood, couldn't be more cliche for a film shot on 16mm and starring what is essentially the cast of "Slacker." And yet it works. Really works. And I can't tell if its the amazing writing, or amazing acting, or amazing improv (probably all three), but I can't remember a time when I watched a fiction film and was as captivated by the characters as I was in this one. Maybe I can remember-- "Swingers?"
From the spring of 1998 to the spring of 1999 I watched "Swingers" at some points as many as three times a week. It started because I found the movie undeniably hilarious (and still do), but eventually I knew every beat of the jokes and ended up sticking around because it's an easy movie to imagine myself as the characters. Jon Favreau, to his great credit, created individuals who were both what I wanted to become and what I currently was. I imagine the same can be said for other people who were fans of the movie. After all, at the age of 17, nothing strikes a chord more to a heterosexual male than the story of a guy getting over a girl, because most often "a girl is a girl" but in "Swingers" getting over the girl can really be about getting over anything-- school, youth, a girl. There's also the introvert wanting to be the extrovert facet of the film, which is incredibly appealing to someone that doesn't like to talk to strangers. "Swingers" in a weird way, was my gateway to adulthood. Life-drama never really seemed as big a deal after, and maybe that's a sad sentiment and that I've clearly been spending the past 8 years inhabiting some sort of tragic fantasyland, but it has gotten me this far.
Watching "Funny Ha Ha" last night brought all those feelings back, but in a different way. I wasn't projecting myself onto those characters because my lifestyle and theirs, while not being mutually exclusive, aren't really all that similar either. Perhaps what I found most interesting was that, unlike "Swingers," I felt that maybe the characters in "Funny Ha Ha" were how I was suppose to end up. It's the feeling of experiencing the same thing at two completely different points in your life. The plot of "Funny Ha Ha" couldn't be much thinner (which I love), but the basic premise deals with the notion that the post-collegiate-urban-hipster typically finds themselves in one of two camps, 1) employed by a company you are indifferent to and thus spend your non-working hours going from party to party drinking away your boredom or 2) unemployed and thus spend your non-working hours going from party to party drinking away your boredom, and sometimes trying to look for temporary work. Both of these types are also poor communicators, despite most evidence pointing to many communications degrees scattered amongst them. I find myself closer to group #1 than to #2, but I've never been much of a hard-core drinker, and frankly find myself too motivated to be that disillusioned. But I'm watching this movie and looking at these characters in their retro-tees and bedhead and PBR and thinking, "I know that this movie is suppose to make me thankful that I'm not living in a state of post-ironic purgatory, but goddamn if that lifestyle isn't appealing!" Sure, I have a regular job and earn a decent wage, and while going from house-party to house-party might be a sorry existence, it also seems completely acceptable and dare I say necessary.
After all, the characters in "Funny Ha Ha" aren't going to die alone in the gutter. They're going to die alone (or surrounded by family... but definitely dead) in their suburban split-levels or downtown condos because people with a means usually pull it together at some point. Maybe that's why I found the film so pleasant-- there's never any real danger or real drama. The characters in this environment, as in reality, are essentially safe. Sure, there are rocky times, but this isn't Baghdad. Watching this lifestyle portrayed so perfectly on film comes off, at least to this viewer, as relatively optimistic.
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Wednesday, January 11, 2006
Lost
Distraction: a delightful game show.
posted by RICK : 4:53 PM
Before both this season and the previous one, Comedy Central ran myriad ads trying to pump up viewership for their new gameshow "Distraction," and both times I found the show to have an interesting premise, but not a whole lot else. It didn't have the stakes of a "Win Ben Stein's Money" or the grab of a "Beat the Geeks," and the whole Double-Dare-Stunts thing always seems a bit forced.
Well, all of this is true until you actually watch an episode. The show is endlessly fasciniting and exceptionally hillarious. Most notable is the parade of creativity used in each of the shows rounds of questioning. Last night some of the highlights included launching a pie at your face every time you buzz in for an answer, and then in another round having to answer questions while simulataneously adding clothespins to your face. It's not exactly the most highbrow, but damn if it isn't fun to watch.
A personal favorite episode from last season dealth with 4 contestants having to sit in a bathroom stall after drinking a gallon of water. They then had to "buzz-in" to answer trivia questions by being the first to pee. Yes, it sounds absolutley horrifying, but amazingly it comes off as playful.
Bottomline: watch DISTRACTION (Comedy Central - check listings).
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Tuesday, January 10, 2006
New Release Tuesday.
Saturday, January 07, 2006
Rollergrrrrls
posted by RICK : 11:12 AM
"Camp and irony have come to the point where we can no longer deem something legitimately awful."
-BAP
At the time of that quote Mr. Flextimer and I were discussing the incredibly ridiculous pop-sensation "My Humps." He stated, justifiably, that it might be the single worst song ever to hit the charts. While I don't totally agree with the sentiment (every era has its radio mysteries-- "Baby Got Back" anyone?), I completely understand his reasoning: irony is out of control.
In the current climate everything is good, because even if it may come off as bad, it can be spun into a "cult sensation" or "guilty pleasure." And while I'm as guilty of this as anyone (yeah, I've downloaded "My Humps" AND listen to it frequently), it is absolutely destroying popular media. No wonder Arrested Development is getting canceled. Why would a network or studio want to shell out dollars for a good writing team when they can simply put a camera in a room full of retarded leprechauns and let the ad money simply roll in?
Being greeted with indifference is perhaps the worst fate for a show. When good is good and bad is good, the only real "bad" is mediocrity, which just might be the death-blow to the legitimately good program Rollergirls (A&E, Mondays @ 10pm est)- a "reality" show about the girls (or is it grrrls?) who compete in the Lone Star Rollergirls league in Austin. I quoted "reality" because this show is produced by the genius team that brought the world "Laguna Beach"-- an almost cinematic reality program on MTV designed to compete with FOX's fictional "The OC." I can't get myself to watch "Laguna." Not because I take issue with it's liberal use of the reality-moniker (after all, we've gone everywhere from The Real World to Survivor to the Joe Schmo Show to K-Street to the West West Wing, and who really gives a fuck if the characters are real or not*) but because I take issue with the show's peddling of a lifestyle where a bunch of rich cunts drive SUVs and paint their nails and complain about boys and their lives and how daddy didn't love them all while throwing rocks at the maid and forcing the immigrant gardener to-- look I've never seen this show. I have no idea what actually happens on it, but it doesn't matter. The IDEA of "Laguna Beach" is enough to make me hate it-- which happens to be draped in layers of irony as a slightly colder version of myself would probably LOVE it. So bad it's good, right? Wrong. The difference being that, in my mind, the target audience is 13-15 year-old girls who aren't going to interpret the show as anything other than "this is the way I'm suppose to live." I find this completely wreckless. Move the show to M2 and play it before "Wonder Shozen" and suddenly we're talking about a different beast altogether. But we aren't.
What makes "Rollergirls" significant is that it does what television is so perfect at-- giving the viewer a look into a lifestyle that is not their own. And in the case of this show, that lifestyle isn't necessarily one about indie-chicks wearing fishnets and beating the living piss out of one another, its about a generation of 20-somethings who aren't graphic designers or rock critics or running internet companies, but are carving out a place for themselves in an America that increasingly seems to think they don't matter. Look, Zach Braff didn't invent the quarter-life-crisis and for some people changing your life might need to be a little more visceral than "New Slang," which is to say that, yes, the fishnets and beating the piss out of one another is a definite plus.
What I responded to while watching the premiere episode on my computer last night was that this is the type of show that has the capability of attracting a demographic desperately in need of mainstream validation. Those people being the heartland's media elite. Digital cable, the internet and Netflix have made it possible for anyone not living in New York or Los Angeles to be as media savvy as their pretentious coast-dwelling kin. "Rollergirls" is a purple-state show if ever there was one. It takes place in the heart of Texas, though that heart happens to be Austin (the oasis). Also, the characters are predominantly middle-to-lower class-- a group that has been severely under-served across the television spectrum since the cancellation of Roseanne. Of course, this isn't the case for all of them. One girl, Venis Envy, who was the focus of this first episode was a former art-student who decided to buy a camper with her hipster boyfriend and travel the country living nomad life. This sounds like hipster chic, until you realize living out of a van is, generally speaking, not the American dream, but maybe for some-- actually I kind of hope it is.
Most refreshing, though, is Rollergirls' blatant sexuality that is everpresent, but never comes off as forced. The creators do an great job of presenting the girls as matter-of-fact as possible. I mean, let's not kid ourselves here, the underlying principles in Roller Derby are the marketing of sex and violence as entertainment, and perhaps that's exactly why it seems to work so well. This isn't WWE. The girls aren't silicone filled body-builders. They are, simply put, incredibly regular-- only tattooed, wearing little and kicking ass. It's post-feminist, but what's better is that its solidly representational of people living in the mid-United States. Also, a Hilton sister is nowhere to be found.
It should probably be noted that the last reality show I watched all the way through was The Real World #10 (back in New York), and even then the only reason I could justify watching was that I found myself stuck in front of a television running a marathon once and figured, what the hell. Perhaps this explains why I find the show so fantastic. Maybe "Rollergirls" is a reality show for people who patently hate reality shows. Unsurprisingly, more than one critic finds it bottom-rung, but I would argue that they simply don't know the audience.
Which brings things back to the original problem. If "Rollergirls" fails it will be because it isn't all that groundbreaking in the tradition "its not TV" sort of way and will hardly garner any sort of acclaim (this isn't the Amazing Fucking Race, now is it?), and yet it isn't the campy mess some were probably hoping for, making the series a perfect supplement to a 40 and pot-brownies. "Rollergirls" should not be missed, despite these shortcomings. Real or not, its representational of America, and not the guilty-pleasure part of America... the part that is just pleasure. Pleasure, and life.
NOTE: I feel like this subject matter also lends itself to the subject of co-opting indie-culture. Or the notion of indie-culture for the masses, and how utterly ridiculous that phrase is, but I've written too much. Perhaps another day.
*Interesting sidebar: I'm kind of fascinated by what level or realism people want out of their media. Most dramas score points for being as true-to-life they can possibly be. A show labeled as "gritty" is suppose to be "real" which then theoretically makes it "good." And yet, no one apparently wants to watch a comedy that is real, because it makes them uncomfortable (which is why, I suppose, The Office, can't hold onto Earl's numbers-- a show that is exceptionally unreal). What's even more peculiar is that the "Reality" programming that people respond to are all based on premises that border on the surreal. I mean, there's a "Reality Show" whose name is "The Surreal Life" and if anyone can explain that to me, I'll ship you your weight in aged cheese. The Real World has never really been about (save for the first 2.3 seasons) BEING REAL. Reality rarely comes with a furnished loft and the ability NOT to work. In fact, one of my favorite seasons, New Orleans (8), actually had a character who was rarely in the show because he went out and got a job.
This seems to carry itself over to movies as well, but more in terms of what audiences are suppose to be scared of:
If Chloe Sevigny gives Vincent Gallo a tragic blowjob, "The Brown Bunny" gets released UNRATED or suffers from the dreadful NC-17 box-office killer, and yet Hollywood can go mad-crazy for the burgeoning torchure porn genre of horror filmmaking and no one thinks twice about it.
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Friday, January 06, 2006
Meeting Dr. Pepper
posted by RICK : 7:00 PM
While in Omaha I was planning on shooting a few scenes from a movie I've been working on for what seems like all eternity, but schedules became tight and when push came to shove I just couldn't justify making myself and my friends stay up all night roaming the frozen streets of west Omaha until the sun shows its ugly head. So instead my sister and I put together a short based on the world's greatest scientist (and on an old recoil piece). It's not high art, but it is mildly entertaining.
Apologies ahead of time for the shoddy production values, but c'mon, this is comedy not Brokeback Mountain.
Dr_Pepper.mp4 [10.4mb]
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Wednesday, January 04, 2006
The first forgettable record of 2006.
posted by RICK : 4:55 PM
Like the rest of America that is still hopelessly clinging onto the early aughts, yesterday I picked up First Impressions of Earth" by one-time supergroup The Strokes. I'm not going to say I was excited for its release, as I wasn't, but I was hoping that it would be a pleasant gem in an otherwise cold, unforgiving winter. I've had the record for about 24 hours as of this writing and have yet to get all the way through it (mostly because of time constraints and my lack of iPod), but that being said what I've heard couldn't be more boring-- or at the very least-- couldn't descend into complacency quicker. The first two tracks are exactly what I was hoping for, but then it just turns into the jangle-jangle-whine-whine formula that they never really had in the past, but always hinted at.
The very first time I heard The Stokes was on Halloween night in 2001, when I bought myself tickets to their first NYC show after the record ("Is This It?") was released. That show kicked ass. I wasn't even sure if this was a band I liked or not. All I could tell was that the crowd was going nuts, and I wasn't certain if I'd make it off the Hammerstein floor alive. Perhaps more interestingly, I didn't know at the time that this was suppose to be the Jesus Christ of rock and roll that was going to come down from the heavens and save us from a world of ultra-produced boy-bands and rap-metal. Now, I see that in order to have fulfilled the prophecy they had to eventually die. At the time I was never of the opinion, unlike many, that this band WAS the end-all, and by the time I actually got their record and decided "hey, these kids are good," the moment had already passed and the Hipster-Pontious-Pilot had called for their heads.
When the dust settles, I'm sure I'll look back (perhaps like I did with Weezer's "Make Believe") and declare "First Impressions of Earth" to be a decent record. Hell, it may even start climbing in playcount years from now when I go through my library and think, "Oh yeah, this band was awesome once!" Unfortunately, until that moment comes I'm stuck with a boring record from a band that is no longer relevent in the ever expanding family tree of rock and roll.
In other sad music news...
It has been reported that pianist/pop-freak Nellie McKay has been dropped by Columbia Records. Apparently, she wanted to release her next album (originally due this coming Tuesday) with 23 songs, and they wanted to release it with 16-songs. Why, in the age of digital music this is even an issue is absolutely beyond me, but apparently she was trying to get out of the label anyway.
Her best quote on the situation:"It ain’t no use to sit and wonder why. They kept the coffee pot, I got the dog.” She added, “All that matters to me is that I can continue to make irritating music which will baffle and enrage."
-AP
I hope the record still comes out.
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Tuesday, January 03, 2006
Such Great Heights.
Monday, January 02, 2006
Proving a point...
Welcome to "What Is Recoil?." If you would like to post something on this blog, but don't have a WIR-Blogger login, then send me an e-mail, and I'll make it happen. SHAZAM!
-Rick
(co-creator)
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For the past week I've had the type of sore-throat that I feel compelled to qualify as "THE WORST," which shouldn't be confused with the sentiment, "Dude, I have, like, the worst sore throat." People who say that usually mean, "Dude, the feeling in my throat is inconsistent with how it normally feels, and I find this generally unpleasant."What makes my brand of throat-pain worse is that it seems to be the lone symptom of my current sickness. No headache. No fever. No Rheumatoid Arthritis. Just a sore-throat (and an ear-ache, but I guess the two are kind of one in the same). Anyway, having JUST a sore-throat is THE WORST because it gives you nothing else to focus on. "Hmmm," you think, "I wonder what its going to feel like when I swallow this bite of Banana-Nut Muffin? Oh! That's right! It's going to feel like eating rusty-tacks and sand!" Sidebar: banana-nut muffins are delicious.
So I'm sick. (Not to be confused with "I'm so sick.")
This has caused me problems in the following ways:
1) We're suppose to move from gorgeous, tree-lined Bushwick, Brooklyn (where everyone knows your name and greets you with a smile on their face) to grungy poor-infested Manhattan (home to the 2x4 with a nail in it to the back of the skull). I'm very excited about this move. The guys with muscles are showing up Sunday morning at 9am to haul over our large items. (I told this to someone at work and they said, "Guys with muscles? Where'd you find them? In a Chelsea bar?" I quickly replied, "I said guys with muscles... not muscle-Ts!" Wow, I'm quite the jokester). This is no time for jokes. My goal all week was to move the smaller stuff residing in our current apartment via suitcases a little bit every night before the actual move. I've done this once since Monday. I have a ton of packing left to do, but it keeps getting put off because I've been spending most (not all, I did watch The Office last night. It was funny) of my time trying to sleep and/or sucking on lozenges attempting to curb the pain. I've also being doing #2.
2) As in this one. #2. C'mon, get your heads out of the gutter you punks! Wednesday night, at the request of loved ones, I decided that I should really try to go see a doctor Thursday morning. I was suppose to work at 1:30pm. After all, I now am a proud beneficiary of corporate health-care.
There is a catch.
I don't understand how any of this stuff works. All I know is that my wallet now holds 2 cards. One will apparently allow me to be treated for a tiny fee, and the other will apparently allow me to be given prescription drugs-- for a tiny fee. There's also some business about CERTAIN physicians I can see and CO-PAYS and DEDUCTIBLES and other things that I am clueless about (they gave us a big packet at work. I've thumbed most of it. Seems, more or less, like a good deal for $8 a week). I perused the healthcare website to try and find a doctor. Assuming I did things correctly it said that there were 3 doctors I could see in Manhattan. Two of them were Chinese. Does this matter? Shouldn't, and yet I didn't call either. And of course, a select few would then point out that I also don't particularly care for Chinese food, but allow me to be very clear: I don't hate Chinese people.
Moving on.
I suspected that this whole doctor business was going to take up most of my pre-work time, so I went to be early (and secretly hoping that over the course of the evening my body would rise up and revolt against the bacteria that has been plaguing me-- hrmm... was the 'plague' bacterial? Note to self: research the plague).
I got up at 6am to call the doctor that the internets suggested I call. No one was in. I called again at 7 and again was greeted with voicemail. Eight-O-clock, the same. Someone DID answer at 9. This was good. I asked if they could fit me in. She said yes. She asked if I had insurance. I said yes. She asked if I knew where they were located. I said, "You're right off 14th street, right?" She said, "No, we moved to the Bronx."
I've never been to the Bronx and I'll be damned if I was going to start today.
My next idea was to put on my coat, my hat, my gloves (and basically the clothes I had been wearing the previous day), leave the apartment, and wander the Brooklyn streets until I found a doctor who would prescribe me medicines.
I went to three places covering about 25 blocks. The first place didn't have a doctor in on Thursdays-- this doesn't really explain why they were open though. The second place was booked until March. I thought that maybe if I was lucky my sore-throat would stick around until then, but figured that it'd just heal itself-- or I'd drop dead wayyyy before hand. The third place was a bit of a mixed blessing. They took my appointment, but they didn't take my insurance. Well, kinda. They wrote down my information, ran it through what I believed to be some kind of punch-card machine, and then told me that I had a $600 deductible. I didn't know what this meant because, like I said, I don't understand insurance. "That's okay," I told them. I mean, my throat hurt! I would have easily traded a pinkie for a bottle of antibiotics.
I sat down in the waiting room for a few minutes and read some New York magazine. Eventually I was called into a room, asked to take off my shirt, and was then placed on a table and had about 12 electrodes stuck to my not-so-hairy-but-hairy-enough chest. They were going to do an E-?-?. My mind kept thinking, "Wait, isn't it your throat?" but I figured these people were DOCTORS and probably could figure it all out. Twenty minutes later the test hadn't been done because the woman couldn't figure out how to get the paper to feed into the printer. "Let's just forget about this one," she said right before ripping the electrodes (and my hair) from my delicate chestal region.
"Now we're going to do an ultrasound on your heart to make sure its functioning properly." I always assumed that being able to walk around, communicate, and make dry, inoffensive remarks also proved that my heart was working properly-- and the fact that I was currently alive. I mean, I don't really know anything about how the human body works, but it seems to me that if your heart isn't working it's probably because you're dead. Though it could also be that you just don't know how to express love very well. Either one, really.
Next, I ended up back in the lobby reading an article on The Strokes. It left me underwhelmed. Eventually I was called to the back to have tests done on my hearing and balance. It was a lot like primary school. I sat in a booth with headphones on listening for the beep, and then a bigger kid who come over, punch me in the stomach and steal my lunch money-- unfortunately, I can no longer eat for 85-cents.
[BEEP]
I score rather well, despite spending much of my youth listening to loud rock and roll music in a Nissan.
[BEEP]
Next up was the balance test. This involved more electrodes (this time around my eyes!) and me staring a moving red dot. Boy can that dot move! I kept up real good.
[BEEP]
Okay, so these tests wrapped up and I was growing more comfortable in the roll of Northern-Brooklyn's Guinea Pig, and yet the prospect of a drug prescription seemed as far off as flying cars and jetpants.
I went back to the lobby (that's thrice for those keeping score), and sat. This time, when my name was called, it was by "The Doctor." I went into his office and he filled me in.
"So it says you have a sore throat," he says while looking at my mouth. "Oh, yeah, that's real nasty. It also says you have a $600 deductible. So what we're going to do is run a bunch of tests on you. You'll have to come back in next week. Once we hit the $600 mark everything is covered, so today we'll do the heart and ears and next week we'll work on the abdomen... are you allergic to anything?"
Penicillin.
"See we're not going to charge you, we let the insurance take care of all that. So if you get a bill from us, just tear it up. Here's a prescription for your throat."
Jumangi!
"But we'll need to see you next week for more tests-- we have to hit that $600 mark. But its good to do this at the beginning of the year, that way you can go wherever you want the rest of the year. You could go to the Mayo Clinic if you want to!"
Wow, a whole clinic made of delicious mayo!?
And then he let me go, and I was on my way. After filling the prescription at the local Duane Reade the whole day cost me a whopping $8.50. Not bad.
But here's the catch: I feel like this deductible nonsense might come back to bite me in the arse. I mean, I still have to pay that $600, right? And if I do, why would I want to go back for more tests... shouldn't I just stop while I'm ahead and pay, maybe a couple hundred? Do I really want to go back next week and get treated to a $600 colonic, on the assumption that it'll save me money over the course of the year?
Yeah, no. I'll play it by ear.
Anyway, it's now Saturday morning, and I'd say that my throat might actually feel worse than it did on Thursday-- but my disposition is much improved. Maybe he gave me the wrong drugs. In any case, I've been working wayyyy too much for someone who is likely sick and was likely contangious (sorry fellow maybe-infected employees).
Tomorrow morning the guys with muscles come (which sounds kind of like the tag line to an all-male-review).
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2 media items for pontification
Sunday, January 22, 2006
Adventures in the Obsolete Vol. 1: The Laugh Track
posted by RICK : 12:45 PM
Some things never seem to die, even when everyone knows they serve no purpose in modern society-- like "two guitars." Adventures in the Obsolete hopes to examine these immortal phenomena.
Up first: The Laugh Track.
The other day I downloaded the first season of "I'm Alan Partridge," the BBC series starring Steve Coogan about the titular talk show host and his lovely cluelessness. I was quite pumped about seeing this as I find Coogan to be pretty great in whatever I've seen him in (covering most of what he's done on this side of the pond-- which I've read isn't so much a "pond" as it is the "world's second largest ocean"). I wanted to get a sense of his more famous roles in Britian before I see "Tristram Shandy: A Cock and Bull Story." The movie sounds completely crazy (not Bubble-crazy, just normal-crazy). I suspect the movie will have some referrences to Mr. Coogan's series. I'd like to 'get' those.
ANYWAY.
I load the first episode and without a beat its off and running. I'm loving it:Alan Partridge (sitting behind an audio board at a radio station): That was Big Yellow Taxi by Joni Mitchell, a song in which Joni complains they 'Paved paradise to put up a parking lot', a measure which actually would have alleviated traffic congestion on the outskirts of paradise, something which Joni singularly fails to point out, perhaps because it doesn't quite fit in with her blinkered view of the world. Nevertheless, nice song.
Unfortunately, as soon as the words begin to come out of his mouth you start to hear the slow fill of audience laughter. An audience that is CLEARLY no where near the set and laughing in a way that suggests getting hit in the groin with a football more than subtle character quirks.
I watched the show for about 3 more minutes before turning it off in disgust. The laugh track killed what was shaping up to be a brilliant show. I'm not even sure I can go back and finish the first episode let alone the remaining 5.
Early in the evolution of sound in cinema, people thought that putting music on the soundtrack would confuse the audience-- they suspected the viewer wouldn't understand that the music wasn't suppose to be IN the scene, but instead used to enhance the scene. Whoever "they" were, they were clearly wrong. One could even take it a step further and argue that it's a safe bet that most people's favorite moments in movies involve a song being played over the soundtrack. What's funny is this argument seems to have never been made for the laugh track on television.
Its origins are acceptable. Radio plays were done in a theater in front of an actual audience; the listeners at home could hear that. Obviously it made perfect sense to port that to television, but they also brought the audience with them. The situation-comedy, in its most pure form, shouldn't be anything more than a short play acted in front of people-- and then rebroadcast. That is why the best all-time sitcoms relied on great characters and few sets. "The Dick Van Dyke Show" rarely felt the need to show Rob Petri anywhere besides his living room and his office. Even better would be "Cheers" which is almost entirely shot in the bar. THAT's a sit-com, and the laugh track isn't only acceptable, but its expected. Of course, that type of program isn't made anymore. A big reason why I quit watching "How I Met Your Mother" was they simply had too many sets, and yet wouldn't give up the 3-camera crutch. It's comedy also relies partially on the editing process-- something that is impossible for a live studio audience to respond to. I guess we can blame "Seinfeld," the last great laugh-track show. They broke the "set" rules but were able to make it work because the writing and acting were so damn strong.
But the moral of the story stays the same: the laugh track is dead. We're smarter audiences these days (even the morons are smarter), and we don't need to be pandered to-- well, maybe a little pandering. There are more than enough shows without the track completely accepted by the masses, and yet we're still adding laughs. Why?
Probably laziness. That seems like a good go-to excuse for most things in life, yeah? I'll say!
When you're working with something that is obsolete, you eventually have to suck it up and grasp onto the new technology whether you like it or not. When will this happen? Lord knows, but I suspect it will happen around the same time people start getting most of their programming from the likes of Google and iTunes. So 2008. Until then...
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Episode 1 Hat: R.I.P.
posted by RICK : 12:26 AM
For the past month I've been wearing this Episode 1 ball-cap.
It was a great cap. It was great because it was lived-in. When I bought it in the spring of 99 I wore it all the time-- specifically while playing ultimate frisbee. Because of this it got a lovely salt-ring around the edges from sweet summer frisbee sweats. I started wearing it again when I found it in my bedroom back in Omaha. Also, I decided to not get my hair cut and needed a hat to control the madness that is my hair. Here's a picture of me and some hidden personalities having a good time while I wear the hat:
Generally speaking, I think most people hated the Episode 1 hat. For starters, it was disgusting looking (as mentiond earlier). Also, it said "Episode 1" in giant letters. That is incredibly uncool. Incredibly.
Tonight I'm walking down Avenue B and a huge gust of wind blow my hat right off my head! I chase it down the street and finally nab it, but its too late, the buckle broke off:
NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!
So now I'm stuck with this longish, rediculous, mane of hair AND NO HAT!
Here's what my head currently looks like:
Clearly I need a new hat. Something, anything, to cover up my god-awful receding-do. What do you thing?
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Wednesday, January 18, 2006
Globes
Monday, January 16, 2006
BPM
"Chicago is the new Jenny"
Sunday, January 15, 2006
Strip Generator
Saturday, January 14, 2006
"Funny Ha Ha"
posted by RICK : 1:52 PM
My kind roommate let me borrow his Netflix'd copy of Funny Ha Ha last night. I knew little of the film outside of its name, and really had little to no motivation for watching it. I didn't know what it was about-- maybe something about a dinner party, I don't know-- and felt it was, generally speaking, one of those "critically acclaimed" films that I feel I should try to watch sometime, but never do-- like "Schindler's List."
But then I read this article on Slate (in Slate?) about the director's next film, Mutual Appreciation, and immediately decided that "Funny Ha Ha" needed to be watched.
I made the right decision.
"Funny Ha Ha" is a film that is greater than the sum of its parts. Even the subject matter, early 20-somethings coming to grips with post-graduate adulthood, couldn't be more cliche for a film shot on 16mm and starring what is essentially the cast of "Slacker." And yet it works. Really works. And I can't tell if its the amazing writing, or amazing acting, or amazing improv (probably all three), but I can't remember a time when I watched a fiction film and was as captivated by the characters as I was in this one. Maybe I can remember-- "Swingers?"
From the spring of 1998 to the spring of 1999 I watched "Swingers" at some points as many as three times a week. It started because I found the movie undeniably hilarious (and still do), but eventually I knew every beat of the jokes and ended up sticking around because it's an easy movie to imagine myself as the characters. Jon Favreau, to his great credit, created individuals who were both what I wanted to become and what I currently was. I imagine the same can be said for other people who were fans of the movie. After all, at the age of 17, nothing strikes a chord more to a heterosexual male than the story of a guy getting over a girl, because most often "a girl is a girl" but in "Swingers" getting over the girl can really be about getting over anything-- school, youth, a girl. There's also the introvert wanting to be the extrovert facet of the film, which is incredibly appealing to someone that doesn't like to talk to strangers. "Swingers" in a weird way, was my gateway to adulthood. Life-drama never really seemed as big a deal after, and maybe that's a sad sentiment and that I've clearly been spending the past 8 years inhabiting some sort of tragic fantasyland, but it has gotten me this far.
Watching "Funny Ha Ha" last night brought all those feelings back, but in a different way. I wasn't projecting myself onto those characters because my lifestyle and theirs, while not being mutually exclusive, aren't really all that similar either. Perhaps what I found most interesting was that, unlike "Swingers," I felt that maybe the characters in "Funny Ha Ha" were how I was suppose to end up. It's the feeling of experiencing the same thing at two completely different points in your life. The plot of "Funny Ha Ha" couldn't be much thinner (which I love), but the basic premise deals with the notion that the post-collegiate-urban-hipster typically finds themselves in one of two camps, 1) employed by a company you are indifferent to and thus spend your non-working hours going from party to party drinking away your boredom or 2) unemployed and thus spend your non-working hours going from party to party drinking away your boredom, and sometimes trying to look for temporary work. Both of these types are also poor communicators, despite most evidence pointing to many communications degrees scattered amongst them. I find myself closer to group #1 than to #2, but I've never been much of a hard-core drinker, and frankly find myself too motivated to be that disillusioned. But I'm watching this movie and looking at these characters in their retro-tees and bedhead and PBR and thinking, "I know that this movie is suppose to make me thankful that I'm not living in a state of post-ironic purgatory, but goddamn if that lifestyle isn't appealing!" Sure, I have a regular job and earn a decent wage, and while going from house-party to house-party might be a sorry existence, it also seems completely acceptable and dare I say necessary.
After all, the characters in "Funny Ha Ha" aren't going to die alone in the gutter. They're going to die alone (or surrounded by family... but definitely dead) in their suburban split-levels or downtown condos because people with a means usually pull it together at some point. Maybe that's why I found the film so pleasant-- there's never any real danger or real drama. The characters in this environment, as in reality, are essentially safe. Sure, there are rocky times, but this isn't Baghdad. Watching this lifestyle portrayed so perfectly on film comes off, at least to this viewer, as relatively optimistic.
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Wednesday, January 11, 2006
Lost
Distraction: a delightful game show.
posted by RICK : 4:53 PM
Before both this season and the previous one, Comedy Central ran myriad ads trying to pump up viewership for their new gameshow "Distraction," and both times I found the show to have an interesting premise, but not a whole lot else. It didn't have the stakes of a "Win Ben Stein's Money" or the grab of a "Beat the Geeks," and the whole Double-Dare-Stunts thing always seems a bit forced.
Well, all of this is true until you actually watch an episode. The show is endlessly fasciniting and exceptionally hillarious. Most notable is the parade of creativity used in each of the shows rounds of questioning. Last night some of the highlights included launching a pie at your face every time you buzz in for an answer, and then in another round having to answer questions while simulataneously adding clothespins to your face. It's not exactly the most highbrow, but damn if it isn't fun to watch.
A personal favorite episode from last season dealth with 4 contestants having to sit in a bathroom stall after drinking a gallon of water. They then had to "buzz-in" to answer trivia questions by being the first to pee. Yes, it sounds absolutley horrifying, but amazingly it comes off as playful.
Bottomline: watch DISTRACTION (Comedy Central - check listings).
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Tuesday, January 10, 2006
New Release Tuesday.
Saturday, January 07, 2006
Rollergrrrrls
posted by RICK : 11:12 AM
"Camp and irony have come to the point where we can no longer deem something legitimately awful."
-BAP
At the time of that quote Mr. Flextimer and I were discussing the incredibly ridiculous pop-sensation "My Humps." He stated, justifiably, that it might be the single worst song ever to hit the charts. While I don't totally agree with the sentiment (every era has its radio mysteries-- "Baby Got Back" anyone?), I completely understand his reasoning: irony is out of control.
In the current climate everything is good, because even if it may come off as bad, it can be spun into a "cult sensation" or "guilty pleasure." And while I'm as guilty of this as anyone (yeah, I've downloaded "My Humps" AND listen to it frequently), it is absolutely destroying popular media. No wonder Arrested Development is getting canceled. Why would a network or studio want to shell out dollars for a good writing team when they can simply put a camera in a room full of retarded leprechauns and let the ad money simply roll in?
Being greeted with indifference is perhaps the worst fate for a show. When good is good and bad is good, the only real "bad" is mediocrity, which just might be the death-blow to the legitimately good program Rollergirls (A&E, Mondays @ 10pm est)- a "reality" show about the girls (or is it grrrls?) who compete in the Lone Star Rollergirls league in Austin. I quoted "reality" because this show is produced by the genius team that brought the world "Laguna Beach"-- an almost cinematic reality program on MTV designed to compete with FOX's fictional "The OC." I can't get myself to watch "Laguna." Not because I take issue with it's liberal use of the reality-moniker (after all, we've gone everywhere from The Real World to Survivor to the Joe Schmo Show to K-Street to the West West Wing, and who really gives a fuck if the characters are real or not*) but because I take issue with the show's peddling of a lifestyle where a bunch of rich cunts drive SUVs and paint their nails and complain about boys and their lives and how daddy didn't love them all while throwing rocks at the maid and forcing the immigrant gardener to-- look I've never seen this show. I have no idea what actually happens on it, but it doesn't matter. The IDEA of "Laguna Beach" is enough to make me hate it-- which happens to be draped in layers of irony as a slightly colder version of myself would probably LOVE it. So bad it's good, right? Wrong. The difference being that, in my mind, the target audience is 13-15 year-old girls who aren't going to interpret the show as anything other than "this is the way I'm suppose to live." I find this completely wreckless. Move the show to M2 and play it before "Wonder Shozen" and suddenly we're talking about a different beast altogether. But we aren't.
What makes "Rollergirls" significant is that it does what television is so perfect at-- giving the viewer a look into a lifestyle that is not their own. And in the case of this show, that lifestyle isn't necessarily one about indie-chicks wearing fishnets and beating the living piss out of one another, its about a generation of 20-somethings who aren't graphic designers or rock critics or running internet companies, but are carving out a place for themselves in an America that increasingly seems to think they don't matter. Look, Zach Braff didn't invent the quarter-life-crisis and for some people changing your life might need to be a little more visceral than "New Slang," which is to say that, yes, the fishnets and beating the piss out of one another is a definite plus.
What I responded to while watching the premiere episode on my computer last night was that this is the type of show that has the capability of attracting a demographic desperately in need of mainstream validation. Those people being the heartland's media elite. Digital cable, the internet and Netflix have made it possible for anyone not living in New York or Los Angeles to be as media savvy as their pretentious coast-dwelling kin. "Rollergirls" is a purple-state show if ever there was one. It takes place in the heart of Texas, though that heart happens to be Austin (the oasis). Also, the characters are predominantly middle-to-lower class-- a group that has been severely under-served across the television spectrum since the cancellation of Roseanne. Of course, this isn't the case for all of them. One girl, Venis Envy, who was the focus of this first episode was a former art-student who decided to buy a camper with her hipster boyfriend and travel the country living nomad life. This sounds like hipster chic, until you realize living out of a van is, generally speaking, not the American dream, but maybe for some-- actually I kind of hope it is.
Most refreshing, though, is Rollergirls' blatant sexuality that is everpresent, but never comes off as forced. The creators do an great job of presenting the girls as matter-of-fact as possible. I mean, let's not kid ourselves here, the underlying principles in Roller Derby are the marketing of sex and violence as entertainment, and perhaps that's exactly why it seems to work so well. This isn't WWE. The girls aren't silicone filled body-builders. They are, simply put, incredibly regular-- only tattooed, wearing little and kicking ass. It's post-feminist, but what's better is that its solidly representational of people living in the mid-United States. Also, a Hilton sister is nowhere to be found.
It should probably be noted that the last reality show I watched all the way through was The Real World #10 (back in New York), and even then the only reason I could justify watching was that I found myself stuck in front of a television running a marathon once and figured, what the hell. Perhaps this explains why I find the show so fantastic. Maybe "Rollergirls" is a reality show for people who patently hate reality shows. Unsurprisingly, more than one critic finds it bottom-rung, but I would argue that they simply don't know the audience.
Which brings things back to the original problem. If "Rollergirls" fails it will be because it isn't all that groundbreaking in the tradition "its not TV" sort of way and will hardly garner any sort of acclaim (this isn't the Amazing Fucking Race, now is it?), and yet it isn't the campy mess some were probably hoping for, making the series a perfect supplement to a 40 and pot-brownies. "Rollergirls" should not be missed, despite these shortcomings. Real or not, its representational of America, and not the guilty-pleasure part of America... the part that is just pleasure. Pleasure, and life.
NOTE: I feel like this subject matter also lends itself to the subject of co-opting indie-culture. Or the notion of indie-culture for the masses, and how utterly ridiculous that phrase is, but I've written too much. Perhaps another day.
*Interesting sidebar: I'm kind of fascinated by what level or realism people want out of their media. Most dramas score points for being as true-to-life they can possibly be. A show labeled as "gritty" is suppose to be "real" which then theoretically makes it "good." And yet, no one apparently wants to watch a comedy that is real, because it makes them uncomfortable (which is why, I suppose, The Office, can't hold onto Earl's numbers-- a show that is exceptionally unreal). What's even more peculiar is that the "Reality" programming that people respond to are all based on premises that border on the surreal. I mean, there's a "Reality Show" whose name is "The Surreal Life" and if anyone can explain that to me, I'll ship you your weight in aged cheese. The Real World has never really been about (save for the first 2.3 seasons) BEING REAL. Reality rarely comes with a furnished loft and the ability NOT to work. In fact, one of my favorite seasons, New Orleans (8), actually had a character who was rarely in the show because he went out and got a job.
This seems to carry itself over to movies as well, but more in terms of what audiences are suppose to be scared of:
If Chloe Sevigny gives Vincent Gallo a tragic blowjob, "The Brown Bunny" gets released UNRATED or suffers from the dreadful NC-17 box-office killer, and yet Hollywood can go mad-crazy for the burgeoning torchure porn genre of horror filmmaking and no one thinks twice about it.
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Friday, January 06, 2006
Meeting Dr. Pepper
posted by RICK : 7:00 PM
While in Omaha I was planning on shooting a few scenes from a movie I've been working on for what seems like all eternity, but schedules became tight and when push came to shove I just couldn't justify making myself and my friends stay up all night roaming the frozen streets of west Omaha until the sun shows its ugly head. So instead my sister and I put together a short based on the world's greatest scientist (and on an old recoil piece). It's not high art, but it is mildly entertaining.
Apologies ahead of time for the shoddy production values, but c'mon, this is comedy not Brokeback Mountain.
Dr_Pepper.mp4 [10.4mb]
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Wednesday, January 04, 2006
The first forgettable record of 2006.
posted by RICK : 4:55 PM
Like the rest of America that is still hopelessly clinging onto the early aughts, yesterday I picked up First Impressions of Earth" by one-time supergroup The Strokes. I'm not going to say I was excited for its release, as I wasn't, but I was hoping that it would be a pleasant gem in an otherwise cold, unforgiving winter. I've had the record for about 24 hours as of this writing and have yet to get all the way through it (mostly because of time constraints and my lack of iPod), but that being said what I've heard couldn't be more boring-- or at the very least-- couldn't descend into complacency quicker. The first two tracks are exactly what I was hoping for, but then it just turns into the jangle-jangle-whine-whine formula that they never really had in the past, but always hinted at.
The very first time I heard The Stokes was on Halloween night in 2001, when I bought myself tickets to their first NYC show after the record ("Is This It?") was released. That show kicked ass. I wasn't even sure if this was a band I liked or not. All I could tell was that the crowd was going nuts, and I wasn't certain if I'd make it off the Hammerstein floor alive. Perhaps more interestingly, I didn't know at the time that this was suppose to be the Jesus Christ of rock and roll that was going to come down from the heavens and save us from a world of ultra-produced boy-bands and rap-metal. Now, I see that in order to have fulfilled the prophecy they had to eventually die. At the time I was never of the opinion, unlike many, that this band WAS the end-all, and by the time I actually got their record and decided "hey, these kids are good," the moment had already passed and the Hipster-Pontious-Pilot had called for their heads.
When the dust settles, I'm sure I'll look back (perhaps like I did with Weezer's "Make Believe") and declare "First Impressions of Earth" to be a decent record. Hell, it may even start climbing in playcount years from now when I go through my library and think, "Oh yeah, this band was awesome once!" Unfortunately, until that moment comes I'm stuck with a boring record from a band that is no longer relevent in the ever expanding family tree of rock and roll.
In other sad music news...
It has been reported that pianist/pop-freak Nellie McKay has been dropped by Columbia Records. Apparently, she wanted to release her next album (originally due this coming Tuesday) with 23 songs, and they wanted to release it with 16-songs. Why, in the age of digital music this is even an issue is absolutely beyond me, but apparently she was trying to get out of the label anyway.
Her best quote on the situation:"It ain’t no use to sit and wonder why. They kept the coffee pot, I got the dog.” She added, “All that matters to me is that I can continue to make irritating music which will baffle and enrage."
-AP
I hope the record still comes out.
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Tuesday, January 03, 2006
Such Great Heights.
Monday, January 02, 2006
Proving a point...
Welcome to "What Is Recoil?." If you would like to post something on this blog, but don't have a WIR-Blogger login, then send me an e-mail, and I'll make it happen. SHAZAM!
-Rick
(co-creator)
Rick |
Dynamarx |
rus-trick |
ryan |
The Potato |
JDM |
DrNewsie |
Mr. MS |
AK |
Brooke |
Stein |
Moses |
G |
CarrieOkie |
Jen |
Duhn |
M. Moore | Laura |
Mr.T |
kat |
abby | Greg
09/2005 | 10/2005 | 11/2005 | 12/2005 | 01/2006 | 02/2006 | 03/2006 | 04/2006 | 05/2006 | 06/2006 | 07/2006 | 08/2006 | 09/2006 | 10/2006 | 11/2006 | 12/2006 | 01/2007 | 02/2007 | 03/2007 |
Adventures in the Obsolete Vol. 1: The Laugh Track
posted by RICK : 12:45 PM
Some things never seem to die, even when everyone knows they serve no purpose in modern society-- like "two guitars." Adventures in the Obsolete hopes to examine these immortal phenomena.
Up first: The Laugh Track.
The other day I downloaded the first season of "I'm Alan Partridge," the BBC series starring Steve Coogan about the titular talk show host and his lovely cluelessness. I was quite pumped about seeing this as I find Coogan to be pretty great in whatever I've seen him in (covering most of what he's done on this side of the pond-- which I've read isn't so much a "pond" as it is the "world's second largest ocean"). I wanted to get a sense of his more famous roles in Britian before I see "Tristram Shandy: A Cock and Bull Story." The movie sounds completely crazy (not Bubble-crazy, just normal-crazy). I suspect the movie will have some referrences to Mr. Coogan's series. I'd like to 'get' those.
ANYWAY.
I load the first episode and without a beat its off and running. I'm loving it:Alan Partridge (sitting behind an audio board at a radio station): That was Big Yellow Taxi by Joni Mitchell, a song in which Joni complains they 'Paved paradise to put up a parking lot', a measure which actually would have alleviated traffic congestion on the outskirts of paradise, something which Joni singularly fails to point out, perhaps because it doesn't quite fit in with her blinkered view of the world. Nevertheless, nice song.
Unfortunately, as soon as the words begin to come out of his mouth you start to hear the slow fill of audience laughter. An audience that is CLEARLY no where near the set and laughing in a way that suggests getting hit in the groin with a football more than subtle character quirks.
I watched the show for about 3 more minutes before turning it off in disgust. The laugh track killed what was shaping up to be a brilliant show. I'm not even sure I can go back and finish the first episode let alone the remaining 5.
Early in the evolution of sound in cinema, people thought that putting music on the soundtrack would confuse the audience-- they suspected the viewer wouldn't understand that the music wasn't suppose to be IN the scene, but instead used to enhance the scene. Whoever "they" were, they were clearly wrong. One could even take it a step further and argue that it's a safe bet that most people's favorite moments in movies involve a song being played over the soundtrack. What's funny is this argument seems to have never been made for the laugh track on television.
Its origins are acceptable. Radio plays were done in a theater in front of an actual audience; the listeners at home could hear that. Obviously it made perfect sense to port that to television, but they also brought the audience with them. The situation-comedy, in its most pure form, shouldn't be anything more than a short play acted in front of people-- and then rebroadcast. That is why the best all-time sitcoms relied on great characters and few sets. "The Dick Van Dyke Show" rarely felt the need to show Rob Petri anywhere besides his living room and his office. Even better would be "Cheers" which is almost entirely shot in the bar. THAT's a sit-com, and the laugh track isn't only acceptable, but its expected. Of course, that type of program isn't made anymore. A big reason why I quit watching "How I Met Your Mother" was they simply had too many sets, and yet wouldn't give up the 3-camera crutch. It's comedy also relies partially on the editing process-- something that is impossible for a live studio audience to respond to. I guess we can blame "Seinfeld," the last great laugh-track show. They broke the "set" rules but were able to make it work because the writing and acting were so damn strong.
But the moral of the story stays the same: the laugh track is dead. We're smarter audiences these days (even the morons are smarter), and we don't need to be pandered to-- well, maybe a little pandering. There are more than enough shows without the track completely accepted by the masses, and yet we're still adding laughs. Why?
Probably laziness. That seems like a good go-to excuse for most things in life, yeah? I'll say!
When you're working with something that is obsolete, you eventually have to suck it up and grasp onto the new technology whether you like it or not. When will this happen? Lord knows, but I suspect it will happen around the same time people start getting most of their programming from the likes of Google and iTunes. So 2008. Until then...
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Episode 1 Hat: R.I.P.
posted by RICK : 12:26 AM
For the past month I've been wearing this Episode 1 ball-cap.
It was a great cap. It was great because it was lived-in. When I bought it in the spring of 99 I wore it all the time-- specifically while playing ultimate frisbee. Because of this it got a lovely salt-ring around the edges from sweet summer frisbee sweats. I started wearing it again when I found it in my bedroom back in Omaha. Also, I decided to not get my hair cut and needed a hat to control the madness that is my hair. Here's a picture of me and some hidden personalities having a good time while I wear the hat:
Generally speaking, I think most people hated the Episode 1 hat. For starters, it was disgusting looking (as mentiond earlier). Also, it said "Episode 1" in giant letters. That is incredibly uncool. Incredibly.
Tonight I'm walking down Avenue B and a huge gust of wind blow my hat right off my head! I chase it down the street and finally nab it, but its too late, the buckle broke off:
NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!
So now I'm stuck with this longish, rediculous, mane of hair AND NO HAT!
Here's what my head currently looks like:
Clearly I need a new hat. Something, anything, to cover up my god-awful receding-do. What do you thing?
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Wednesday, January 18, 2006
Globes
Monday, January 16, 2006
BPM
"Chicago is the new Jenny"
Sunday, January 15, 2006
Strip Generator
Saturday, January 14, 2006
"Funny Ha Ha"
posted by RICK : 1:52 PM
My kind roommate let me borrow his Netflix'd copy of Funny Ha Ha last night. I knew little of the film outside of its name, and really had little to no motivation for watching it. I didn't know what it was about-- maybe something about a dinner party, I don't know-- and felt it was, generally speaking, one of those "critically acclaimed" films that I feel I should try to watch sometime, but never do-- like "Schindler's List."
But then I read this article on Slate (in Slate?) about the director's next film, Mutual Appreciation, and immediately decided that "Funny Ha Ha" needed to be watched.
I made the right decision.
"Funny Ha Ha" is a film that is greater than the sum of its parts. Even the subject matter, early 20-somethings coming to grips with post-graduate adulthood, couldn't be more cliche for a film shot on 16mm and starring what is essentially the cast of "Slacker." And yet it works. Really works. And I can't tell if its the amazing writing, or amazing acting, or amazing improv (probably all three), but I can't remember a time when I watched a fiction film and was as captivated by the characters as I was in this one. Maybe I can remember-- "Swingers?"
From the spring of 1998 to the spring of 1999 I watched "Swingers" at some points as many as three times a week. It started because I found the movie undeniably hilarious (and still do), but eventually I knew every beat of the jokes and ended up sticking around because it's an easy movie to imagine myself as the characters. Jon Favreau, to his great credit, created individuals who were both what I wanted to become and what I currently was. I imagine the same can be said for other people who were fans of the movie. After all, at the age of 17, nothing strikes a chord more to a heterosexual male than the story of a guy getting over a girl, because most often "a girl is a girl" but in "Swingers" getting over the girl can really be about getting over anything-- school, youth, a girl. There's also the introvert wanting to be the extrovert facet of the film, which is incredibly appealing to someone that doesn't like to talk to strangers. "Swingers" in a weird way, was my gateway to adulthood. Life-drama never really seemed as big a deal after, and maybe that's a sad sentiment and that I've clearly been spending the past 8 years inhabiting some sort of tragic fantasyland, but it has gotten me this far.
Watching "Funny Ha Ha" last night brought all those feelings back, but in a different way. I wasn't projecting myself onto those characters because my lifestyle and theirs, while not being mutually exclusive, aren't really all that similar either. Perhaps what I found most interesting was that, unlike "Swingers," I felt that maybe the characters in "Funny Ha Ha" were how I was suppose to end up. It's the feeling of experiencing the same thing at two completely different points in your life. The plot of "Funny Ha Ha" couldn't be much thinner (which I love), but the basic premise deals with the notion that the post-collegiate-urban-hipster typically finds themselves in one of two camps, 1) employed by a company you are indifferent to and thus spend your non-working hours going from party to party drinking away your boredom or 2) unemployed and thus spend your non-working hours going from party to party drinking away your boredom, and sometimes trying to look for temporary work. Both of these types are also poor communicators, despite most evidence pointing to many communications degrees scattered amongst them. I find myself closer to group #1 than to #2, but I've never been much of a hard-core drinker, and frankly find myself too motivated to be that disillusioned. But I'm watching this movie and looking at these characters in their retro-tees and bedhead and PBR and thinking, "I know that this movie is suppose to make me thankful that I'm not living in a state of post-ironic purgatory, but goddamn if that lifestyle isn't appealing!" Sure, I have a regular job and earn a decent wage, and while going from house-party to house-party might be a sorry existence, it also seems completely acceptable and dare I say necessary.
After all, the characters in "Funny Ha Ha" aren't going to die alone in the gutter. They're going to die alone (or surrounded by family... but definitely dead) in their suburban split-levels or downtown condos because people with a means usually pull it together at some point. Maybe that's why I found the film so pleasant-- there's never any real danger or real drama. The characters in this environment, as in reality, are essentially safe. Sure, there are rocky times, but this isn't Baghdad. Watching this lifestyle portrayed so perfectly on film comes off, at least to this viewer, as relatively optimistic.
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Wednesday, January 11, 2006
Lost
Distraction: a delightful game show.
posted by RICK : 4:53 PM
Before both this season and the previous one, Comedy Central ran myriad ads trying to pump up viewership for their new gameshow "Distraction," and both times I found the show to have an interesting premise, but not a whole lot else. It didn't have the stakes of a "Win Ben Stein's Money" or the grab of a "Beat the Geeks," and the whole Double-Dare-Stunts thing always seems a bit forced.
Well, all of this is true until you actually watch an episode. The show is endlessly fasciniting and exceptionally hillarious. Most notable is the parade of creativity used in each of the shows rounds of questioning. Last night some of the highlights included launching a pie at your face every time you buzz in for an answer, and then in another round having to answer questions while simulataneously adding clothespins to your face. It's not exactly the most highbrow, but damn if it isn't fun to watch.
A personal favorite episode from last season dealth with 4 contestants having to sit in a bathroom stall after drinking a gallon of water. They then had to "buzz-in" to answer trivia questions by being the first to pee. Yes, it sounds absolutley horrifying, but amazingly it comes off as playful.
Bottomline: watch DISTRACTION (Comedy Central - check listings).
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Tuesday, January 10, 2006
New Release Tuesday.
Saturday, January 07, 2006
Rollergrrrrls
posted by RICK : 11:12 AM
"Camp and irony have come to the point where we can no longer deem something legitimately awful."
-BAP
At the time of that quote Mr. Flextimer and I were discussing the incredibly ridiculous pop-sensation "My Humps." He stated, justifiably, that it might be the single worst song ever to hit the charts. While I don't totally agree with the sentiment (every era has its radio mysteries-- "Baby Got Back" anyone?), I completely understand his reasoning: irony is out of control.
In the current climate everything is good, because even if it may come off as bad, it can be spun into a "cult sensation" or "guilty pleasure." And while I'm as guilty of this as anyone (yeah, I've downloaded "My Humps" AND listen to it frequently), it is absolutely destroying popular media. No wonder Arrested Development is getting canceled. Why would a network or studio want to shell out dollars for a good writing team when they can simply put a camera in a room full of retarded leprechauns and let the ad money simply roll in?
Being greeted with indifference is perhaps the worst fate for a show. When good is good and bad is good, the only real "bad" is mediocrity, which just might be the death-blow to the legitimately good program Rollergirls (A&E, Mondays @ 10pm est)- a "reality" show about the girls (or is it grrrls?) who compete in the Lone Star Rollergirls league in Austin. I quoted "reality" because this show is produced by the genius team that brought the world "Laguna Beach"-- an almost cinematic reality program on MTV designed to compete with FOX's fictional "The OC." I can't get myself to watch "Laguna." Not because I take issue with it's liberal use of the reality-moniker (after all, we've gone everywhere from The Real World to Survivor to the Joe Schmo Show to K-Street to the West West Wing, and who really gives a fuck if the characters are real or not*) but because I take issue with the show's peddling of a lifestyle where a bunch of rich cunts drive SUVs and paint their nails and complain about boys and their lives and how daddy didn't love them all while throwing rocks at the maid and forcing the immigrant gardener to-- look I've never seen this show. I have no idea what actually happens on it, but it doesn't matter. The IDEA of "Laguna Beach" is enough to make me hate it-- which happens to be draped in layers of irony as a slightly colder version of myself would probably LOVE it. So bad it's good, right? Wrong. The difference being that, in my mind, the target audience is 13-15 year-old girls who aren't going to interpret the show as anything other than "this is the way I'm suppose to live." I find this completely wreckless. Move the show to M2 and play it before "Wonder Shozen" and suddenly we're talking about a different beast altogether. But we aren't.
What makes "Rollergirls" significant is that it does what television is so perfect at-- giving the viewer a look into a lifestyle that is not their own. And in the case of this show, that lifestyle isn't necessarily one about indie-chicks wearing fishnets and beating the living piss out of one another, its about a generation of 20-somethings who aren't graphic designers or rock critics or running internet companies, but are carving out a place for themselves in an America that increasingly seems to think they don't matter. Look, Zach Braff didn't invent the quarter-life-crisis and for some people changing your life might need to be a little more visceral than "New Slang," which is to say that, yes, the fishnets and beating the piss out of one another is a definite plus.
What I responded to while watching the premiere episode on my computer last night was that this is the type of show that has the capability of attracting a demographic desperately in need of mainstream validation. Those people being the heartland's media elite. Digital cable, the internet and Netflix have made it possible for anyone not living in New York or Los Angeles to be as media savvy as their pretentious coast-dwelling kin. "Rollergirls" is a purple-state show if ever there was one. It takes place in the heart of Texas, though that heart happens to be Austin (the oasis). Also, the characters are predominantly middle-to-lower class-- a group that has been severely under-served across the television spectrum since the cancellation of Roseanne. Of course, this isn't the case for all of them. One girl, Venis Envy, who was the focus of this first episode was a former art-student who decided to buy a camper with her hipster boyfriend and travel the country living nomad life. This sounds like hipster chic, until you realize living out of a van is, generally speaking, not the American dream, but maybe for some-- actually I kind of hope it is.
Most refreshing, though, is Rollergirls' blatant sexuality that is everpresent, but never comes off as forced. The creators do an great job of presenting the girls as matter-of-fact as possible. I mean, let's not kid ourselves here, the underlying principles in Roller Derby are the marketing of sex and violence as entertainment, and perhaps that's exactly why it seems to work so well. This isn't WWE. The girls aren't silicone filled body-builders. They are, simply put, incredibly regular-- only tattooed, wearing little and kicking ass. It's post-feminist, but what's better is that its solidly representational of people living in the mid-United States. Also, a Hilton sister is nowhere to be found.
It should probably be noted that the last reality show I watched all the way through was The Real World #10 (back in New York), and even then the only reason I could justify watching was that I found myself stuck in front of a television running a marathon once and figured, what the hell. Perhaps this explains why I find the show so fantastic. Maybe "Rollergirls" is a reality show for people who patently hate reality shows. Unsurprisingly, more than one critic finds it bottom-rung, but I would argue that they simply don't know the audience.
Which brings things back to the original problem. If "Rollergirls" fails it will be because it isn't all that groundbreaking in the tradition "its not TV" sort of way and will hardly garner any sort of acclaim (this isn't the Amazing Fucking Race, now is it?), and yet it isn't the campy mess some were probably hoping for, making the series a perfect supplement to a 40 and pot-brownies. "Rollergirls" should not be missed, despite these shortcomings. Real or not, its representational of America, and not the guilty-pleasure part of America... the part that is just pleasure. Pleasure, and life.
NOTE: I feel like this subject matter also lends itself to the subject of co-opting indie-culture. Or the notion of indie-culture for the masses, and how utterly ridiculous that phrase is, but I've written too much. Perhaps another day.
*Interesting sidebar: I'm kind of fascinated by what level or realism people want out of their media. Most dramas score points for being as true-to-life they can possibly be. A show labeled as "gritty" is suppose to be "real" which then theoretically makes it "good." And yet, no one apparently wants to watch a comedy that is real, because it makes them uncomfortable (which is why, I suppose, The Office, can't hold onto Earl's numbers-- a show that is exceptionally unreal). What's even more peculiar is that the "Reality" programming that people respond to are all based on premises that border on the surreal. I mean, there's a "Reality Show" whose name is "The Surreal Life" and if anyone can explain that to me, I'll ship you your weight in aged cheese. The Real World has never really been about (save for the first 2.3 seasons) BEING REAL. Reality rarely comes with a furnished loft and the ability NOT to work. In fact, one of my favorite seasons, New Orleans (8), actually had a character who was rarely in the show because he went out and got a job.
This seems to carry itself over to movies as well, but more in terms of what audiences are suppose to be scared of:
If Chloe Sevigny gives Vincent Gallo a tragic blowjob, "The Brown Bunny" gets released UNRATED or suffers from the dreadful NC-17 box-office killer, and yet Hollywood can go mad-crazy for the burgeoning torchure porn genre of horror filmmaking and no one thinks twice about it.
0 Comments
Friday, January 06, 2006
Meeting Dr. Pepper
posted by RICK : 7:00 PM
While in Omaha I was planning on shooting a few scenes from a movie I've been working on for what seems like all eternity, but schedules became tight and when push came to shove I just couldn't justify making myself and my friends stay up all night roaming the frozen streets of west Omaha until the sun shows its ugly head. So instead my sister and I put together a short based on the world's greatest scientist (and on an old recoil piece). It's not high art, but it is mildly entertaining.
Apologies ahead of time for the shoddy production values, but c'mon, this is comedy not Brokeback Mountain.
Dr_Pepper.mp4 [10.4mb]
0 Comments
Wednesday, January 04, 2006
The first forgettable record of 2006.
posted by RICK : 4:55 PM
Like the rest of America that is still hopelessly clinging onto the early aughts, yesterday I picked up First Impressions of Earth" by one-time supergroup The Strokes. I'm not going to say I was excited for its release, as I wasn't, but I was hoping that it would be a pleasant gem in an otherwise cold, unforgiving winter. I've had the record for about 24 hours as of this writing and have yet to get all the way through it (mostly because of time constraints and my lack of iPod), but that being said what I've heard couldn't be more boring-- or at the very least-- couldn't descend into complacency quicker. The first two tracks are exactly what I was hoping for, but then it just turns into the jangle-jangle-whine-whine formula that they never really had in the past, but always hinted at.
The very first time I heard The Stokes was on Halloween night in 2001, when I bought myself tickets to their first NYC show after the record ("Is This It?") was released. That show kicked ass. I wasn't even sure if this was a band I liked or not. All I could tell was that the crowd was going nuts, and I wasn't certain if I'd make it off the Hammerstein floor alive. Perhaps more interestingly, I didn't know at the time that this was suppose to be the Jesus Christ of rock and roll that was going to come down from the heavens and save us from a world of ultra-produced boy-bands and rap-metal. Now, I see that in order to have fulfilled the prophecy they had to eventually die. At the time I was never of the opinion, unlike many, that this band WAS the end-all, and by the time I actually got their record and decided "hey, these kids are good," the moment had already passed and the Hipster-Pontious-Pilot had called for their heads.
When the dust settles, I'm sure I'll look back (perhaps like I did with Weezer's "Make Believe") and declare "First Impressions of Earth" to be a decent record. Hell, it may even start climbing in playcount years from now when I go through my library and think, "Oh yeah, this band was awesome once!" Unfortunately, until that moment comes I'm stuck with a boring record from a band that is no longer relevent in the ever expanding family tree of rock and roll.
In other sad music news...
It has been reported that pianist/pop-freak Nellie McKay has been dropped by Columbia Records. Apparently, she wanted to release her next album (originally due this coming Tuesday) with 23 songs, and they wanted to release it with 16-songs. Why, in the age of digital music this is even an issue is absolutely beyond me, but apparently she was trying to get out of the label anyway.
Her best quote on the situation:"It ain’t no use to sit and wonder why. They kept the coffee pot, I got the dog.” She added, “All that matters to me is that I can continue to make irritating music which will baffle and enrage."
-AP
I hope the record still comes out.
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Tuesday, January 03, 2006
Such Great Heights.
Monday, January 02, 2006
Proving a point...
Welcome to "What Is Recoil?." If you would like to post something on this blog, but don't have a WIR-Blogger login, then send me an e-mail, and I'll make it happen. SHAZAM!
-Rick
(co-creator)
Rick |
Dynamarx |
rus-trick |
ryan |
The Potato |
JDM |
DrNewsie |
Mr. MS |
AK |
Brooke |
Stein |
Moses |
G |
CarrieOkie |
Jen |
Duhn |
M. Moore | Laura |
Mr.T |
kat |
abby | Greg
09/2005 | 10/2005 | 11/2005 | 12/2005 | 01/2006 | 02/2006 | 03/2006 | 04/2006 | 05/2006 | 06/2006 | 07/2006 | 08/2006 | 09/2006 | 10/2006 | 11/2006 | 12/2006 | 01/2007 | 02/2007 | 03/2007 |
Some things never seem to die, even when everyone knows they serve no purpose in modern society-- like "two guitars." Adventures in the Obsolete hopes to examine these immortal phenomena.Up first: The Laugh Track.
The other day I downloaded the first season of "I'm Alan Partridge," the BBC series starring Steve Coogan about the titular talk show host and his lovely cluelessness. I was quite pumped about seeing this as I find Coogan to be pretty great in whatever I've seen him in (covering most of what he's done on this side of the pond-- which I've read isn't so much a "pond" as it is the "world's second largest ocean"). I wanted to get a sense of his more famous roles in Britian before I see "Tristram Shandy: A Cock and Bull Story." The movie sounds completely crazy (not Bubble-crazy, just normal-crazy). I suspect the movie will have some referrences to Mr. Coogan's series. I'd like to 'get' those.
ANYWAY.
I load the first episode and without a beat its off and running. I'm loving it:
Alan Partridge (sitting behind an audio board at a radio station): That was Big Yellow Taxi by Joni Mitchell, a song in which Joni complains they 'Paved paradise to put up a parking lot', a measure which actually would have alleviated traffic congestion on the outskirts of paradise, something which Joni singularly fails to point out, perhaps because it doesn't quite fit in with her blinkered view of the world. Nevertheless, nice song.Unfortunately, as soon as the words begin to come out of his mouth you start to hear the slow fill of audience laughter. An audience that is CLEARLY no where near the set and laughing in a way that suggests getting hit in the groin with a football more than subtle character quirks.
I watched the show for about 3 more minutes before turning it off in disgust. The laugh track killed what was shaping up to be a brilliant show. I'm not even sure I can go back and finish the first episode let alone the remaining 5.
Early in the evolution of sound in cinema, people thought that putting music on the soundtrack would confuse the audience-- they suspected the viewer wouldn't understand that the music wasn't suppose to be IN the scene, but instead used to enhance the scene. Whoever "they" were, they were clearly wrong. One could even take it a step further and argue that it's a safe bet that most people's favorite moments in movies involve a song being played over the soundtrack. What's funny is this argument seems to have never been made for the laugh track on television.
Its origins are acceptable. Radio plays were done in a theater in front of an actual audience; the listeners at home could hear that. Obviously it made perfect sense to port that to television, but they also brought the audience with them. The situation-comedy, in its most pure form, shouldn't be anything more than a short play acted in front of people-- and then rebroadcast. That is why the best all-time sitcoms relied on great characters and few sets. "The Dick Van Dyke Show" rarely felt the need to show Rob Petri anywhere besides his living room and his office. Even better would be "Cheers" which is almost entirely shot in the bar. THAT's a sit-com, and the laugh track isn't only acceptable, but its expected. Of course, that type of program isn't made anymore. A big reason why I quit watching "How I Met Your Mother" was they simply had too many sets, and yet wouldn't give up the 3-camera crutch. It's comedy also relies partially on the editing process-- something that is impossible for a live studio audience to respond to. I guess we can blame "Seinfeld," the last great laugh-track show. They broke the "set" rules but were able to make it work because the writing and acting were so damn strong.
But the moral of the story stays the same: the laugh track is dead. We're smarter audiences these days (even the morons are smarter), and we don't need to be pandered to-- well, maybe a little pandering. There are more than enough shows without the track completely accepted by the masses, and yet we're still adding laughs. Why?
Probably laziness. That seems like a good go-to excuse for most things in life, yeah? I'll say!
When you're working with something that is obsolete, you eventually have to suck it up and grasp onto the new technology whether you like it or not. When will this happen? Lord knows, but I suspect it will happen around the same time people start getting most of their programming from the likes of Google and iTunes. So 2008. Until then...
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Episode 1 Hat: R.I.P.
posted by RICK : 12:26 AM
For the past month I've been wearing this Episode 1 ball-cap.
It was a great cap. It was great because it was lived-in. When I bought it in the spring of 99 I wore it all the time-- specifically while playing ultimate frisbee. Because of this it got a lovely salt-ring around the edges from sweet summer frisbee sweats. I started wearing it again when I found it in my bedroom back in Omaha. Also, I decided to not get my hair cut and needed a hat to control the madness that is my hair. Here's a picture of me and some hidden personalities having a good time while I wear the hat:
Generally speaking, I think most people hated the Episode 1 hat. For starters, it was disgusting looking (as mentiond earlier). Also, it said "Episode 1" in giant letters. That is incredibly uncool. Incredibly.
Tonight I'm walking down Avenue B and a huge gust of wind blow my hat right off my head! I chase it down the street and finally nab it, but its too late, the buckle broke off:
NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!
So now I'm stuck with this longish, rediculous, mane of hair AND NO HAT!
Here's what my head currently looks like:
Clearly I need a new hat. Something, anything, to cover up my god-awful receding-do. What do you thing?
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Wednesday, January 18, 2006
Globes
Monday, January 16, 2006
BPM
"Chicago is the new Jenny"
Sunday, January 15, 2006
Strip Generator
Saturday, January 14, 2006
"Funny Ha Ha"
posted by RICK : 1:52 PM
My kind roommate let me borrow his Netflix'd copy of Funny Ha Ha last night. I knew little of the film outside of its name, and really had little to no motivation for watching it. I didn't know what it was about-- maybe something about a dinner party, I don't know-- and felt it was, generally speaking, one of those "critically acclaimed" films that I feel I should try to watch sometime, but never do-- like "Schindler's List."
But then I read this article on Slate (in Slate?) about the director's next film, Mutual Appreciation, and immediately decided that "Funny Ha Ha" needed to be watched.
I made the right decision.
"Funny Ha Ha" is a film that is greater than the sum of its parts. Even the subject matter, early 20-somethings coming to grips with post-graduate adulthood, couldn't be more cliche for a film shot on 16mm and starring what is essentially the cast of "Slacker." And yet it works. Really works. And I can't tell if its the amazing writing, or amazing acting, or amazing improv (probably all three), but I can't remember a time when I watched a fiction film and was as captivated by the characters as I was in this one. Maybe I can remember-- "Swingers?"
From the spring of 1998 to the spring of 1999 I watched "Swingers" at some points as many as three times a week. It started because I found the movie undeniably hilarious (and still do), but eventually I knew every beat of the jokes and ended up sticking around because it's an easy movie to imagine myself as the characters. Jon Favreau, to his great credit, created individuals who were both what I wanted to become and what I currently was. I imagine the same can be said for other people who were fans of the movie. After all, at the age of 17, nothing strikes a chord more to a heterosexual male than the story of a guy getting over a girl, because most often "a girl is a girl" but in "Swingers" getting over the girl can really be about getting over anything-- school, youth, a girl. There's also the introvert wanting to be the extrovert facet of the film, which is incredibly appealing to someone that doesn't like to talk to strangers. "Swingers" in a weird way, was my gateway to adulthood. Life-drama never really seemed as big a deal after, and maybe that's a sad sentiment and that I've clearly been spending the past 8 years inhabiting some sort of tragic fantasyland, but it has gotten me this far.
Watching "Funny Ha Ha" last night brought all those feelings back, but in a different way. I wasn't projecting myself onto those characters because my lifestyle and theirs, while not being mutually exclusive, aren't really all that similar either. Perhaps what I found most interesting was that, unlike "Swingers," I felt that maybe the characters in "Funny Ha Ha" were how I was suppose to end up. It's the feeling of experiencing the same thing at two completely different points in your life. The plot of "Funny Ha Ha" couldn't be much thinner (which I love), but the basic premise deals with the notion that the post-collegiate-urban-hipster typically finds themselves in one of two camps, 1) employed by a company you are indifferent to and thus spend your non-working hours going from party to party drinking away your boredom or 2) unemployed and thus spend your non-working hours going from party to party drinking away your boredom, and sometimes trying to look for temporary work. Both of these types are also poor communicators, despite most evidence pointing to many communications degrees scattered amongst them. I find myself closer to group #1 than to #2, but I've never been much of a hard-core drinker, and frankly find myself too motivated to be that disillusioned. But I'm watching this movie and looking at these characters in their retro-tees and bedhead and PBR and thinking, "I know that this movie is suppose to make me thankful that I'm not living in a state of post-ironic purgatory, but goddamn if that lifestyle isn't appealing!" Sure, I have a regular job and earn a decent wage, and while going from house-party to house-party might be a sorry existence, it also seems completely acceptable and dare I say necessary.
After all, the characters in "Funny Ha Ha" aren't going to die alone in the gutter. They're going to die alone (or surrounded by family... but definitely dead) in their suburban split-levels or downtown condos because people with a means usually pull it together at some point. Maybe that's why I found the film so pleasant-- there's never any real danger or real drama. The characters in this environment, as in reality, are essentially safe. Sure, there are rocky times, but this isn't Baghdad. Watching this lifestyle portrayed so perfectly on film comes off, at least to this viewer, as relatively optimistic.
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Wednesday, January 11, 2006
Lost
Distraction: a delightful game show.
posted by RICK : 4:53 PM
Before both this season and the previous one, Comedy Central ran myriad ads trying to pump up viewership for their new gameshow "Distraction," and both times I found the show to have an interesting premise, but not a whole lot else. It didn't have the stakes of a "Win Ben Stein's Money" or the grab of a "Beat the Geeks," and the whole Double-Dare-Stunts thing always seems a bit forced.
Well, all of this is true until you actually watch an episode. The show is endlessly fasciniting and exceptionally hillarious. Most notable is the parade of creativity used in each of the shows rounds of questioning. Last night some of the highlights included launching a pie at your face every time you buzz in for an answer, and then in another round having to answer questions while simulataneously adding clothespins to your face. It's not exactly the most highbrow, but damn if it isn't fun to watch.
A personal favorite episode from last season dealth with 4 contestants having to sit in a bathroom stall after drinking a gallon of water. They then had to "buzz-in" to answer trivia questions by being the first to pee. Yes, it sounds absolutley horrifying, but amazingly it comes off as playful.
Bottomline: watch DISTRACTION (Comedy Central - check listings).
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Tuesday, January 10, 2006
New Release Tuesday.
Saturday, January 07, 2006
Rollergrrrrls
posted by RICK : 11:12 AM
"Camp and irony have come to the point where we can no longer deem something legitimately awful."
-BAP
At the time of that quote Mr. Flextimer and I were discussing the incredibly ridiculous pop-sensation "My Humps." He stated, justifiably, that it might be the single worst song ever to hit the charts. While I don't totally agree with the sentiment (every era has its radio mysteries-- "Baby Got Back" anyone?), I completely understand his reasoning: irony is out of control.
In the current climate everything is good, because even if it may come off as bad, it can be spun into a "cult sensation" or "guilty pleasure." And while I'm as guilty of this as anyone (yeah, I've downloaded "My Humps" AND listen to it frequently), it is absolutely destroying popular media. No wonder Arrested Development is getting canceled. Why would a network or studio want to shell out dollars for a good writing team when they can simply put a camera in a room full of retarded leprechauns and let the ad money simply roll in?
Being greeted with indifference is perhaps the worst fate for a show. When good is good and bad is good, the only real "bad" is mediocrity, which just might be the death-blow to the legitimately good program Rollergirls (A&E, Mondays @ 10pm est)- a "reality" show about the girls (or is it grrrls?) who compete in the Lone Star Rollergirls league in Austin. I quoted "reality" because this show is produced by the genius team that brought the world "Laguna Beach"-- an almost cinematic reality program on MTV designed to compete with FOX's fictional "The OC." I can't get myself to watch "Laguna." Not because I take issue with it's liberal use of the reality-moniker (after all, we've gone everywhere from The Real World to Survivor to the Joe Schmo Show to K-Street to the West West Wing, and who really gives a fuck if the characters are real or not*) but because I take issue with the show's peddling of a lifestyle where a bunch of rich cunts drive SUVs and paint their nails and complain about boys and their lives and how daddy didn't love them all while throwing rocks at the maid and forcing the immigrant gardener to-- look I've never seen this show. I have no idea what actually happens on it, but it doesn't matter. The IDEA of "Laguna Beach" is enough to make me hate it-- which happens to be draped in layers of irony as a slightly colder version of myself would probably LOVE it. So bad it's good, right? Wrong. The difference being that, in my mind, the target audience is 13-15 year-old girls who aren't going to interpret the show as anything other than "this is the way I'm suppose to live." I find this completely wreckless. Move the show to M2 and play it before "Wonder Shozen" and suddenly we're talking about a different beast altogether. But we aren't.
What makes "Rollergirls" significant is that it does what television is so perfect at-- giving the viewer a look into a lifestyle that is not their own. And in the case of this show, that lifestyle isn't necessarily one about indie-chicks wearing fishnets and beating the living piss out of one another, its about a generation of 20-somethings who aren't graphic designers or rock critics or running internet companies, but are carving out a place for themselves in an America that increasingly seems to think they don't matter. Look, Zach Braff didn't invent the quarter-life-crisis and for some people changing your life might need to be a little more visceral than "New Slang," which is to say that, yes, the fishnets and beating the piss out of one another is a definite plus.
What I responded to while watching the premiere episode on my computer last night was that this is the type of show that has the capability of attracting a demographic desperately in need of mainstream validation. Those people being the heartland's media elite. Digital cable, the internet and Netflix have made it possible for anyone not living in New York or Los Angeles to be as media savvy as their pretentious coast-dwelling kin. "Rollergirls" is a purple-state show if ever there was one. It takes place in the heart of Texas, though that heart happens to be Austin (the oasis). Also, the characters are predominantly middle-to-lower class-- a group that has been severely under-served across the television spectrum since the cancellation of Roseanne. Of course, this isn't the case for all of them. One girl, Venis Envy, who was the focus of this first episode was a former art-student who decided to buy a camper with her hipster boyfriend and travel the country living nomad life. This sounds like hipster chic, until you realize living out of a van is, generally speaking, not the American dream, but maybe for some-- actually I kind of hope it is.
Most refreshing, though, is Rollergirls' blatant sexuality that is everpresent, but never comes off as forced. The creators do an great job of presenting the girls as matter-of-fact as possible. I mean, let's not kid ourselves here, the underlying principles in Roller Derby are the marketing of sex and violence as entertainment, and perhaps that's exactly why it seems to work so well. This isn't WWE. The girls aren't silicone filled body-builders. They are, simply put, incredibly regular-- only tattooed, wearing little and kicking ass. It's post-feminist, but what's better is that its solidly representational of people living in the mid-United States. Also, a Hilton sister is nowhere to be found.
It should probably be noted that the last reality show I watched all the way through was The Real World #10 (back in New York), and even then the only reason I could justify watching was that I found myself stuck in front of a television running a marathon once and figured, what the hell. Perhaps this explains why I find the show so fantastic. Maybe "Rollergirls" is a reality show for people who patently hate reality shows. Unsurprisingly, more than one critic finds it bottom-rung, but I would argue that they simply don't know the audience.
Which brings things back to the original problem. If "Rollergirls" fails it will be because it isn't all that groundbreaking in the tradition "its not TV" sort of way and will hardly garner any sort of acclaim (this isn't the Amazing Fucking Race, now is it?), and yet it isn't the campy mess some were probably hoping for, making the series a perfect supplement to a 40 and pot-brownies. "Rollergirls" should not be missed, despite these shortcomings. Real or not, its representational of America, and not the guilty-pleasure part of America... the part that is just pleasure. Pleasure, and life.
NOTE: I feel like this subject matter also lends itself to the subject of co-opting indie-culture. Or the notion of indie-culture for the masses, and how utterly ridiculous that phrase is, but I've written too much. Perhaps another day.
*Interesting sidebar: I'm kind of fascinated by what level or realism people want out of their media. Most dramas score points for being as true-to-life they can possibly be. A show labeled as "gritty" is suppose to be "real" which then theoretically makes it "good." And yet, no one apparently wants to watch a comedy that is real, because it makes them uncomfortable (which is why, I suppose, The Office, can't hold onto Earl's numbers-- a show that is exceptionally unreal). What's even more peculiar is that the "Reality" programming that people respond to are all based on premises that border on the surreal. I mean, there's a "Reality Show" whose name is "The Surreal Life" and if anyone can explain that to me, I'll ship you your weight in aged cheese. The Real World has never really been about (save for the first 2.3 seasons) BEING REAL. Reality rarely comes with a furnished loft and the ability NOT to work. In fact, one of my favorite seasons, New Orleans (8), actually had a character who was rarely in the show because he went out and got a job.
This seems to carry itself over to movies as well, but more in terms of what audiences are suppose to be scared of:
If Chloe Sevigny gives Vincent Gallo a tragic blowjob, "The Brown Bunny" gets released UNRATED or suffers from the dreadful NC-17 box-office killer, and yet Hollywood can go mad-crazy for the burgeoning torchure porn genre of horror filmmaking and no one thinks twice about it.
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Friday, January 06, 2006
Meeting Dr. Pepper
posted by RICK : 7:00 PM
While in Omaha I was planning on shooting a few scenes from a movie I've been working on for what seems like all eternity, but schedules became tight and when push came to shove I just couldn't justify making myself and my friends stay up all night roaming the frozen streets of west Omaha until the sun shows its ugly head. So instead my sister and I put together a short based on the world's greatest scientist (and on an old recoil piece). It's not high art, but it is mildly entertaining.
Apologies ahead of time for the shoddy production values, but c'mon, this is comedy not Brokeback Mountain.
Dr_Pepper.mp4 [10.4mb]
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Wednesday, January 04, 2006
The first forgettable record of 2006.
posted by RICK : 4:55 PM
Like the rest of America that is still hopelessly clinging onto the early aughts, yesterday I picked up First Impressions of Earth" by one-time supergroup The Strokes. I'm not going to say I was excited for its release, as I wasn't, but I was hoping that it would be a pleasant gem in an otherwise cold, unforgiving winter. I've had the record for about 24 hours as of this writing and have yet to get all the way through it (mostly because of time constraints and my lack of iPod), but that being said what I've heard couldn't be more boring-- or at the very least-- couldn't descend into complacency quicker. The first two tracks are exactly what I was hoping for, but then it just turns into the jangle-jangle-whine-whine formula that they never really had in the past, but always hinted at.
The very first time I heard The Stokes was on Halloween night in 2001, when I bought myself tickets to their first NYC show after the record ("Is This It?") was released. That show kicked ass. I wasn't even sure if this was a band I liked or not. All I could tell was that the crowd was going nuts, and I wasn't certain if I'd make it off the Hammerstein floor alive. Perhaps more interestingly, I didn't know at the time that this was suppose to be the Jesus Christ of rock and roll that was going to come down from the heavens and save us from a world of ultra-produced boy-bands and rap-metal. Now, I see that in order to have fulfilled the prophecy they had to eventually die. At the time I was never of the opinion, unlike many, that this band WAS the end-all, and by the time I actually got their record and decided "hey, these kids are good," the moment had already passed and the Hipster-Pontious-Pilot had called for their heads.
When the dust settles, I'm sure I'll look back (perhaps like I did with Weezer's "Make Believe") and declare "First Impressions of Earth" to be a decent record. Hell, it may even start climbing in playcount years from now when I go through my library and think, "Oh yeah, this band was awesome once!" Unfortunately, until that moment comes I'm stuck with a boring record from a band that is no longer relevent in the ever expanding family tree of rock and roll.
In other sad music news...
It has been reported that pianist/pop-freak Nellie McKay has been dropped by Columbia Records. Apparently, she wanted to release her next album (originally due this coming Tuesday) with 23 songs, and they wanted to release it with 16-songs. Why, in the age of digital music this is even an issue is absolutely beyond me, but apparently she was trying to get out of the label anyway.
Her best quote on the situation:"It ain’t no use to sit and wonder why. They kept the coffee pot, I got the dog.” She added, “All that matters to me is that I can continue to make irritating music which will baffle and enrage."
-AP
I hope the record still comes out.
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Tuesday, January 03, 2006
Such Great Heights.
Monday, January 02, 2006
Proving a point...
Welcome to "What Is Recoil?." If you would like to post something on this blog, but don't have a WIR-Blogger login, then send me an e-mail, and I'll make it happen. SHAZAM!
-Rick
(co-creator)
Rick |
Dynamarx |
rus-trick |
ryan |
The Potato |
JDM |
DrNewsie |
Mr. MS |
AK |
Brooke |
Stein |
Moses |
G |
CarrieOkie |
Jen |
Duhn |
M. Moore | Laura |
Mr.T |
kat |
abby | Greg
09/2005 | 10/2005 | 11/2005 | 12/2005 | 01/2006 | 02/2006 | 03/2006 | 04/2006 | 05/2006 | 06/2006 | 07/2006 | 08/2006 | 09/2006 | 10/2006 | 11/2006 | 12/2006 | 01/2007 | 02/2007 | 03/2007 |
It was a great cap. It was great because it was lived-in. When I bought it in the spring of 99 I wore it all the time-- specifically while playing ultimate frisbee. Because of this it got a lovely salt-ring around the edges from sweet summer frisbee sweats. I started wearing it again when I found it in my bedroom back in Omaha. Also, I decided to not get my hair cut and needed a hat to control the madness that is my hair. Here's a picture of me and some hidden personalities having a good time while I wear the hat:
Generally speaking, I think most people hated the Episode 1 hat. For starters, it was disgusting looking (as mentiond earlier). Also, it said "Episode 1" in giant letters. That is incredibly uncool. Incredibly.
Tonight I'm walking down Avenue B and a huge gust of wind blow my hat right off my head! I chase it down the street and finally nab it, but its too late, the buckle broke off:
NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!
So now I'm stuck with this longish, rediculous, mane of hair AND NO HAT!
Here's what my head currently looks like:
Clearly I need a new hat. Something, anything, to cover up my god-awful receding-do. What do you thing?
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Globes
Monday, January 16, 2006
BPM
"Chicago is the new Jenny"
Sunday, January 15, 2006
Strip Generator
Saturday, January 14, 2006
"Funny Ha Ha"
posted by RICK : 1:52 PM
My kind roommate let me borrow his Netflix'd copy of Funny Ha Ha last night. I knew little of the film outside of its name, and really had little to no motivation for watching it. I didn't know what it was about-- maybe something about a dinner party, I don't know-- and felt it was, generally speaking, one of those "critically acclaimed" films that I feel I should try to watch sometime, but never do-- like "Schindler's List."
But then I read this article on Slate (in Slate?) about the director's next film, Mutual Appreciation, and immediately decided that "Funny Ha Ha" needed to be watched.
I made the right decision.
"Funny Ha Ha" is a film that is greater than the sum of its parts. Even the subject matter, early 20-somethings coming to grips with post-graduate adulthood, couldn't be more cliche for a film shot on 16mm and starring what is essentially the cast of "Slacker." And yet it works. Really works. And I can't tell if its the amazing writing, or amazing acting, or amazing improv (probably all three), but I can't remember a time when I watched a fiction film and was as captivated by the characters as I was in this one. Maybe I can remember-- "Swingers?"
From the spring of 1998 to the spring of 1999 I watched "Swingers" at some points as many as three times a week. It started because I found the movie undeniably hilarious (and still do), but eventually I knew every beat of the jokes and ended up sticking around because it's an easy movie to imagine myself as the characters. Jon Favreau, to his great credit, created individuals who were both what I wanted to become and what I currently was. I imagine the same can be said for other people who were fans of the movie. After all, at the age of 17, nothing strikes a chord more to a heterosexual male than the story of a guy getting over a girl, because most often "a girl is a girl" but in "Swingers" getting over the girl can really be about getting over anything-- school, youth, a girl. There's also the introvert wanting to be the extrovert facet of the film, which is incredibly appealing to someone that doesn't like to talk to strangers. "Swingers" in a weird way, was my gateway to adulthood. Life-drama never really seemed as big a deal after, and maybe that's a sad sentiment and that I've clearly been spending the past 8 years inhabiting some sort of tragic fantasyland, but it has gotten me this far.
Watching "Funny Ha Ha" last night brought all those feelings back, but in a different way. I wasn't projecting myself onto those characters because my lifestyle and theirs, while not being mutually exclusive, aren't really all that similar either. Perhaps what I found most interesting was that, unlike "Swingers," I felt that maybe the characters in "Funny Ha Ha" were how I was suppose to end up. It's the feeling of experiencing the same thing at two completely different points in your life. The plot of "Funny Ha Ha" couldn't be much thinner (which I love), but the basic premise deals with the notion that the post-collegiate-urban-hipster typically finds themselves in one of two camps, 1) employed by a company you are indifferent to and thus spend your non-working hours going from party to party drinking away your boredom or 2) unemployed and thus spend your non-working hours going from party to party drinking away your boredom, and sometimes trying to look for temporary work. Both of these types are also poor communicators, despite most evidence pointing to many communications degrees scattered amongst them. I find myself closer to group #1 than to #2, but I've never been much of a hard-core drinker, and frankly find myself too motivated to be that disillusioned. But I'm watching this movie and looking at these characters in their retro-tees and bedhead and PBR and thinking, "I know that this movie is suppose to make me thankful that I'm not living in a state of post-ironic purgatory, but goddamn if that lifestyle isn't appealing!" Sure, I have a regular job and earn a decent wage, and while going from house-party to house-party might be a sorry existence, it also seems completely acceptable and dare I say necessary.
After all, the characters in "Funny Ha Ha" aren't going to die alone in the gutter. They're going to die alone (or surrounded by family... but definitely dead) in their suburban split-levels or downtown condos because people with a means usually pull it together at some point. Maybe that's why I found the film so pleasant-- there's never any real danger or real drama. The characters in this environment, as in reality, are essentially safe. Sure, there are rocky times, but this isn't Baghdad. Watching this lifestyle portrayed so perfectly on film comes off, at least to this viewer, as relatively optimistic.
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Wednesday, January 11, 2006
Lost
Distraction: a delightful game show.
posted by RICK : 4:53 PM
Before both this season and the previous one, Comedy Central ran myriad ads trying to pump up viewership for their new gameshow "Distraction," and both times I found the show to have an interesting premise, but not a whole lot else. It didn't have the stakes of a "Win Ben Stein's Money" or the grab of a "Beat the Geeks," and the whole Double-Dare-Stunts thing always seems a bit forced.
Well, all of this is true until you actually watch an episode. The show is endlessly fasciniting and exceptionally hillarious. Most notable is the parade of creativity used in each of the shows rounds of questioning. Last night some of the highlights included launching a pie at your face every time you buzz in for an answer, and then in another round having to answer questions while simulataneously adding clothespins to your face. It's not exactly the most highbrow, but damn if it isn't fun to watch.
A personal favorite episode from last season dealth with 4 contestants having to sit in a bathroom stall after drinking a gallon of water. They then had to "buzz-in" to answer trivia questions by being the first to pee. Yes, it sounds absolutley horrifying, but amazingly it comes off as playful.
Bottomline: watch DISTRACTION (Comedy Central - check listings).
0 Comments
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
New Release Tuesday.
Saturday, January 07, 2006
Rollergrrrrls
posted by RICK : 11:12 AM
"Camp and irony have come to the point where we can no longer deem something legitimately awful."
-BAP
At the time of that quote Mr. Flextimer and I were discussing the incredibly ridiculous pop-sensation "My Humps." He stated, justifiably, that it might be the single worst song ever to hit the charts. While I don't totally agree with the sentiment (every era has its radio mysteries-- "Baby Got Back" anyone?), I completely understand his reasoning: irony is out of control.
In the current climate everything is good, because even if it may come off as bad, it can be spun into a "cult sensation" or "guilty pleasure." And while I'm as guilty of this as anyone (yeah, I've downloaded "My Humps" AND listen to it frequently), it is absolutely destroying popular media. No wonder Arrested Development is getting canceled. Why would a network or studio want to shell out dollars for a good writing team when they can simply put a camera in a room full of retarded leprechauns and let the ad money simply roll in?
Being greeted with indifference is perhaps the worst fate for a show. When good is good and bad is good, the only real "bad" is mediocrity, which just might be the death-blow to the legitimately good program Rollergirls (A&E, Mondays @ 10pm est)- a "reality" show about the girls (or is it grrrls?) who compete in the Lone Star Rollergirls league in Austin. I quoted "reality" because this show is produced by the genius team that brought the world "Laguna Beach"-- an almost cinematic reality program on MTV designed to compete with FOX's fictional "The OC." I can't get myself to watch "Laguna." Not because I take issue with it's liberal use of the reality-moniker (after all, we've gone everywhere from The Real World to Survivor to the Joe Schmo Show to K-Street to the West West Wing, and who really gives a fuck if the characters are real or not*) but because I take issue with the show's peddling of a lifestyle where a bunch of rich cunts drive SUVs and paint their nails and complain about boys and their lives and how daddy didn't love them all while throwing rocks at the maid and forcing the immigrant gardener to-- look I've never seen this show. I have no idea what actually happens on it, but it doesn't matter. The IDEA of "Laguna Beach" is enough to make me hate it-- which happens to be draped in layers of irony as a slightly colder version of myself would probably LOVE it. So bad it's good, right? Wrong. The difference being that, in my mind, the target audience is 13-15 year-old girls who aren't going to interpret the show as anything other than "this is the way I'm suppose to live." I find this completely wreckless. Move the show to M2 and play it before "Wonder Shozen" and suddenly we're talking about a different beast altogether. But we aren't.
What makes "Rollergirls" significant is that it does what television is so perfect at-- giving the viewer a look into a lifestyle that is not their own. And in the case of this show, that lifestyle isn't necessarily one about indie-chicks wearing fishnets and beating the living piss out of one another, its about a generation of 20-somethings who aren't graphic designers or rock critics or running internet companies, but are carving out a place for themselves in an America that increasingly seems to think they don't matter. Look, Zach Braff didn't invent the quarter-life-crisis and for some people changing your life might need to be a little more visceral than "New Slang," which is to say that, yes, the fishnets and beating the piss out of one another is a definite plus.
What I responded to while watching the premiere episode on my computer last night was that this is the type of show that has the capability of attracting a demographic desperately in need of mainstream validation. Those people being the heartland's media elite. Digital cable, the internet and Netflix have made it possible for anyone not living in New York or Los Angeles to be as media savvy as their pretentious coast-dwelling kin. "Rollergirls" is a purple-state show if ever there was one. It takes place in the heart of Texas, though that heart happens to be Austin (the oasis). Also, the characters are predominantly middle-to-lower class-- a group that has been severely under-served across the television spectrum since the cancellation of Roseanne. Of course, this isn't the case for all of them. One girl, Venis Envy, who was the focus of this first episode was a former art-student who decided to buy a camper with her hipster boyfriend and travel the country living nomad life. This sounds like hipster chic, until you realize living out of a van is, generally speaking, not the American dream, but maybe for some-- actually I kind of hope it is.
Most refreshing, though, is Rollergirls' blatant sexuality that is everpresent, but never comes off as forced. The creators do an great job of presenting the girls as matter-of-fact as possible. I mean, let's not kid ourselves here, the underlying principles in Roller Derby are the marketing of sex and violence as entertainment, and perhaps that's exactly why it seems to work so well. This isn't WWE. The girls aren't silicone filled body-builders. They are, simply put, incredibly regular-- only tattooed, wearing little and kicking ass. It's post-feminist, but what's better is that its solidly representational of people living in the mid-United States. Also, a Hilton sister is nowhere to be found.
It should probably be noted that the last reality show I watched all the way through was The Real World #10 (back in New York), and even then the only reason I could justify watching was that I found myself stuck in front of a television running a marathon once and figured, what the hell. Perhaps this explains why I find the show so fantastic. Maybe "Rollergirls" is a reality show for people who patently hate reality shows. Unsurprisingly, more than one critic finds it bottom-rung, but I would argue that they simply don't know the audience.
Which brings things back to the original problem. If "Rollergirls" fails it will be because it isn't all that groundbreaking in the tradition "its not TV" sort of way and will hardly garner any sort of acclaim (this isn't the Amazing Fucking Race, now is it?), and yet it isn't the campy mess some were probably hoping for, making the series a perfect supplement to a 40 and pot-brownies. "Rollergirls" should not be missed, despite these shortcomings. Real or not, its representational of America, and not the guilty-pleasure part of America... the part that is just pleasure. Pleasure, and life.
NOTE: I feel like this subject matter also lends itself to the subject of co-opting indie-culture. Or the notion of indie-culture for the masses, and how utterly ridiculous that phrase is, but I've written too much. Perhaps another day.
*Interesting sidebar: I'm kind of fascinated by what level or realism people want out of their media. Most dramas score points for being as true-to-life they can possibly be. A show labeled as "gritty" is suppose to be "real" which then theoretically makes it "good." And yet, no one apparently wants to watch a comedy that is real, because it makes them uncomfortable (which is why, I suppose, The Office, can't hold onto Earl's numbers-- a show that is exceptionally unreal). What's even more peculiar is that the "Reality" programming that people respond to are all based on premises that border on the surreal. I mean, there's a "Reality Show" whose name is "The Surreal Life" and if anyone can explain that to me, I'll ship you your weight in aged cheese. The Real World has never really been about (save for the first 2.3 seasons) BEING REAL. Reality rarely comes with a furnished loft and the ability NOT to work. In fact, one of my favorite seasons, New Orleans (8), actually had a character who was rarely in the show because he went out and got a job.
This seems to carry itself over to movies as well, but more in terms of what audiences are suppose to be scared of:
If Chloe Sevigny gives Vincent Gallo a tragic blowjob, "The Brown Bunny" gets released UNRATED or suffers from the dreadful NC-17 box-office killer, and yet Hollywood can go mad-crazy for the burgeoning torchure porn genre of horror filmmaking and no one thinks twice about it.
0 Comments
Friday, January 06, 2006
Meeting Dr. Pepper
posted by RICK : 7:00 PM
While in Omaha I was planning on shooting a few scenes from a movie I've been working on for what seems like all eternity, but schedules became tight and when push came to shove I just couldn't justify making myself and my friends stay up all night roaming the frozen streets of west Omaha until the sun shows its ugly head. So instead my sister and I put together a short based on the world's greatest scientist (and on an old recoil piece). It's not high art, but it is mildly entertaining.
Apologies ahead of time for the shoddy production values, but c'mon, this is comedy not Brokeback Mountain.
Dr_Pepper.mp4 [10.4mb]
0 Comments
Wednesday, January 04, 2006
The first forgettable record of 2006.
posted by RICK : 4:55 PM
Like the rest of America that is still hopelessly clinging onto the early aughts, yesterday I picked up First Impressions of Earth" by one-time supergroup The Strokes. I'm not going to say I was excited for its release, as I wasn't, but I was hoping that it would be a pleasant gem in an otherwise cold, unforgiving winter. I've had the record for about 24 hours as of this writing and have yet to get all the way through it (mostly because of time constraints and my lack of iPod), but that being said what I've heard couldn't be more boring-- or at the very least-- couldn't descend into complacency quicker. The first two tracks are exactly what I was hoping for, but then it just turns into the jangle-jangle-whine-whine formula that they never really had in the past, but always hinted at.
The very first time I heard The Stokes was on Halloween night in 2001, when I bought myself tickets to their first NYC show after the record ("Is This It?") was released. That show kicked ass. I wasn't even sure if this was a band I liked or not. All I could tell was that the crowd was going nuts, and I wasn't certain if I'd make it off the Hammerstein floor alive. Perhaps more interestingly, I didn't know at the time that this was suppose to be the Jesus Christ of rock and roll that was going to come down from the heavens and save us from a world of ultra-produced boy-bands and rap-metal. Now, I see that in order to have fulfilled the prophecy they had to eventually die. At the time I was never of the opinion, unlike many, that this band WAS the end-all, and by the time I actually got their record and decided "hey, these kids are good," the moment had already passed and the Hipster-Pontious-Pilot had called for their heads.
When the dust settles, I'm sure I'll look back (perhaps like I did with Weezer's "Make Believe") and declare "First Impressions of Earth" to be a decent record. Hell, it may even start climbing in playcount years from now when I go through my library and think, "Oh yeah, this band was awesome once!" Unfortunately, until that moment comes I'm stuck with a boring record from a band that is no longer relevent in the ever expanding family tree of rock and roll.
In other sad music news...
It has been reported that pianist/pop-freak Nellie McKay has been dropped by Columbia Records. Apparently, she wanted to release her next album (originally due this coming Tuesday) with 23 songs, and they wanted to release it with 16-songs. Why, in the age of digital music this is even an issue is absolutely beyond me, but apparently she was trying to get out of the label anyway.
Her best quote on the situation:"It ain’t no use to sit and wonder why. They kept the coffee pot, I got the dog.” She added, “All that matters to me is that I can continue to make irritating music which will baffle and enrage."
-AP
I hope the record still comes out.
0 Comments
Tuesday, January 03, 2006
Such Great Heights.
Monday, January 02, 2006
Proving a point...
Welcome to "What Is Recoil?." If you would like to post something on this blog, but don't have a WIR-Blogger login, then send me an e-mail, and I'll make it happen. SHAZAM!
-Rick
(co-creator)
Rick |
Dynamarx |
rus-trick |
ryan |
The Potato |
JDM |
DrNewsie |
Mr. MS |
AK |
Brooke |
Stein |
Moses |
G |
CarrieOkie |
Jen |
Duhn |
M. Moore | Laura |
Mr.T |
kat |
abby | Greg
09/2005 | 10/2005 | 11/2005 | 12/2005 | 01/2006 | 02/2006 | 03/2006 | 04/2006 | 05/2006 | 06/2006 | 07/2006 | 08/2006 | 09/2006 | 10/2006 | 11/2006 | 12/2006 | 01/2007 | 02/2007 | 03/2007 |
BPM
"Chicago is the new Jenny"
Sunday, January 15, 2006
Strip Generator
Saturday, January 14, 2006
"Funny Ha Ha"
posted by RICK : 1:52 PM
My kind roommate let me borrow his Netflix'd copy of Funny Ha Ha last night. I knew little of the film outside of its name, and really had little to no motivation for watching it. I didn't know what it was about-- maybe something about a dinner party, I don't know-- and felt it was, generally speaking, one of those "critically acclaimed" films that I feel I should try to watch sometime, but never do-- like "Schindler's List."
But then I read this article on Slate (in Slate?) about the director's next film, Mutual Appreciation, and immediately decided that "Funny Ha Ha" needed to be watched.
I made the right decision.
"Funny Ha Ha" is a film that is greater than the sum of its parts. Even the subject matter, early 20-somethings coming to grips with post-graduate adulthood, couldn't be more cliche for a film shot on 16mm and starring what is essentially the cast of "Slacker." And yet it works. Really works. And I can't tell if its the amazing writing, or amazing acting, or amazing improv (probably all three), but I can't remember a time when I watched a fiction film and was as captivated by the characters as I was in this one. Maybe I can remember-- "Swingers?"
From the spring of 1998 to the spring of 1999 I watched "Swingers" at some points as many as three times a week. It started because I found the movie undeniably hilarious (and still do), but eventually I knew every beat of the jokes and ended up sticking around because it's an easy movie to imagine myself as the characters. Jon Favreau, to his great credit, created individuals who were both what I wanted to become and what I currently was. I imagine the same can be said for other people who were fans of the movie. After all, at the age of 17, nothing strikes a chord more to a heterosexual male than the story of a guy getting over a girl, because most often "a girl is a girl" but in "Swingers" getting over the girl can really be about getting over anything-- school, youth, a girl. There's also the introvert wanting to be the extrovert facet of the film, which is incredibly appealing to someone that doesn't like to talk to strangers. "Swingers" in a weird way, was my gateway to adulthood. Life-drama never really seemed as big a deal after, and maybe that's a sad sentiment and that I've clearly been spending the past 8 years inhabiting some sort of tragic fantasyland, but it has gotten me this far.
Watching "Funny Ha Ha" last night brought all those feelings back, but in a different way. I wasn't projecting myself onto those characters because my lifestyle and theirs, while not being mutually exclusive, aren't really all that similar either. Perhaps what I found most interesting was that, unlike "Swingers," I felt that maybe the characters in "Funny Ha Ha" were how I was suppose to end up. It's the feeling of experiencing the same thing at two completely different points in your life. The plot of "Funny Ha Ha" couldn't be much thinner (which I love), but the basic premise deals with the notion that the post-collegiate-urban-hipster typically finds themselves in one of two camps, 1) employed by a company you are indifferent to and thus spend your non-working hours going from party to party drinking away your boredom or 2) unemployed and thus spend your non-working hours going from party to party drinking away your boredom, and sometimes trying to look for temporary work. Both of these types are also poor communicators, despite most evidence pointing to many communications degrees scattered amongst them. I find myself closer to group #1 than to #2, but I've never been much of a hard-core drinker, and frankly find myself too motivated to be that disillusioned. But I'm watching this movie and looking at these characters in their retro-tees and bedhead and PBR and thinking, "I know that this movie is suppose to make me thankful that I'm not living in a state of post-ironic purgatory, but goddamn if that lifestyle isn't appealing!" Sure, I have a regular job and earn a decent wage, and while going from house-party to house-party might be a sorry existence, it also seems completely acceptable and dare I say necessary.
After all, the characters in "Funny Ha Ha" aren't going to die alone in the gutter. They're going to die alone (or surrounded by family... but definitely dead) in their suburban split-levels or downtown condos because people with a means usually pull it together at some point. Maybe that's why I found the film so pleasant-- there's never any real danger or real drama. The characters in this environment, as in reality, are essentially safe. Sure, there are rocky times, but this isn't Baghdad. Watching this lifestyle portrayed so perfectly on film comes off, at least to this viewer, as relatively optimistic.
0 Comments
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
Lost
Distraction: a delightful game show.
posted by RICK : 4:53 PM
Before both this season and the previous one, Comedy Central ran myriad ads trying to pump up viewership for their new gameshow "Distraction," and both times I found the show to have an interesting premise, but not a whole lot else. It didn't have the stakes of a "Win Ben Stein's Money" or the grab of a "Beat the Geeks," and the whole Double-Dare-Stunts thing always seems a bit forced.
Well, all of this is true until you actually watch an episode. The show is endlessly fasciniting and exceptionally hillarious. Most notable is the parade of creativity used in each of the shows rounds of questioning. Last night some of the highlights included launching a pie at your face every time you buzz in for an answer, and then in another round having to answer questions while simulataneously adding clothespins to your face. It's not exactly the most highbrow, but damn if it isn't fun to watch.
A personal favorite episode from last season dealth with 4 contestants having to sit in a bathroom stall after drinking a gallon of water. They then had to "buzz-in" to answer trivia questions by being the first to pee. Yes, it sounds absolutley horrifying, but amazingly it comes off as playful.
Bottomline: watch DISTRACTION (Comedy Central - check listings).
0 Comments
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
New Release Tuesday.
Saturday, January 07, 2006
Rollergrrrrls
posted by RICK : 11:12 AM
"Camp and irony have come to the point where we can no longer deem something legitimately awful."
-BAP
At the time of that quote Mr. Flextimer and I were discussing the incredibly ridiculous pop-sensation "My Humps." He stated, justifiably, that it might be the single worst song ever to hit the charts. While I don't totally agree with the sentiment (every era has its radio mysteries-- "Baby Got Back" anyone?), I completely understand his reasoning: irony is out of control.
In the current climate everything is good, because even if it may come off as bad, it can be spun into a "cult sensation" or "guilty pleasure." And while I'm as guilty of this as anyone (yeah, I've downloaded "My Humps" AND listen to it frequently), it is absolutely destroying popular media. No wonder Arrested Development is getting canceled. Why would a network or studio want to shell out dollars for a good writing team when they can simply put a camera in a room full of retarded leprechauns and let the ad money simply roll in?
Being greeted with indifference is perhaps the worst fate for a show. When good is good and bad is good, the only real "bad" is mediocrity, which just might be the death-blow to the legitimately good program Rollergirls (A&E, Mondays @ 10pm est)- a "reality" show about the girls (or is it grrrls?) who compete in the Lone Star Rollergirls league in Austin. I quoted "reality" because this show is produced by the genius team that brought the world "Laguna Beach"-- an almost cinematic reality program on MTV designed to compete with FOX's fictional "The OC." I can't get myself to watch "Laguna." Not because I take issue with it's liberal use of the reality-moniker (after all, we've gone everywhere from The Real World to Survivor to the Joe Schmo Show to K-Street to the West West Wing, and who really gives a fuck if the characters are real or not*) but because I take issue with the show's peddling of a lifestyle where a bunch of rich cunts drive SUVs and paint their nails and complain about boys and their lives and how daddy didn't love them all while throwing rocks at the maid and forcing the immigrant gardener to-- look I've never seen this show. I have no idea what actually happens on it, but it doesn't matter. The IDEA of "Laguna Beach" is enough to make me hate it-- which happens to be draped in layers of irony as a slightly colder version of myself would probably LOVE it. So bad it's good, right? Wrong. The difference being that, in my mind, the target audience is 13-15 year-old girls who aren't going to interpret the show as anything other than "this is the way I'm suppose to live." I find this completely wreckless. Move the show to M2 and play it before "Wonder Shozen" and suddenly we're talking about a different beast altogether. But we aren't.
What makes "Rollergirls" significant is that it does what television is so perfect at-- giving the viewer a look into a lifestyle that is not their own. And in the case of this show, that lifestyle isn't necessarily one about indie-chicks wearing fishnets and beating the living piss out of one another, its about a generation of 20-somethings who aren't graphic designers or rock critics or running internet companies, but are carving out a place for themselves in an America that increasingly seems to think they don't matter. Look, Zach Braff didn't invent the quarter-life-crisis and for some people changing your life might need to be a little more visceral than "New Slang," which is to say that, yes, the fishnets and beating the piss out of one another is a definite plus.
What I responded to while watching the premiere episode on my computer last night was that this is the type of show that has the capability of attracting a demographic desperately in need of mainstream validation. Those people being the heartland's media elite. Digital cable, the internet and Netflix have made it possible for anyone not living in New York or Los Angeles to be as media savvy as their pretentious coast-dwelling kin. "Rollergirls" is a purple-state show if ever there was one. It takes place in the heart of Texas, though that heart happens to be Austin (the oasis). Also, the characters are predominantly middle-to-lower class-- a group that has been severely under-served across the television spectrum since the cancellation of Roseanne. Of course, this isn't the case for all of them. One girl, Venis Envy, who was the focus of this first episode was a former art-student who decided to buy a camper with her hipster boyfriend and travel the country living nomad life. This sounds like hipster chic, until you realize living out of a van is, generally speaking, not the American dream, but maybe for some-- actually I kind of hope it is.
Most refreshing, though, is Rollergirls' blatant sexuality that is everpresent, but never comes off as forced. The creators do an great job of presenting the girls as matter-of-fact as possible. I mean, let's not kid ourselves here, the underlying principles in Roller Derby are the marketing of sex and violence as entertainment, and perhaps that's exactly why it seems to work so well. This isn't WWE. The girls aren't silicone filled body-builders. They are, simply put, incredibly regular-- only tattooed, wearing little and kicking ass. It's post-feminist, but what's better is that its solidly representational of people living in the mid-United States. Also, a Hilton sister is nowhere to be found.
It should probably be noted that the last reality show I watched all the way through was The Real World #10 (back in New York), and even then the only reason I could justify watching was that I found myself stuck in front of a television running a marathon once and figured, what the hell. Perhaps this explains why I find the show so fantastic. Maybe "Rollergirls" is a reality show for people who patently hate reality shows. Unsurprisingly, more than one critic finds it bottom-rung, but I would argue that they simply don't know the audience.
Which brings things back to the original problem. If "Rollergirls" fails it will be because it isn't all that groundbreaking in the tradition "its not TV" sort of way and will hardly garner any sort of acclaim (this isn't the Amazing Fucking Race, now is it?), and yet it isn't the campy mess some were probably hoping for, making the series a perfect supplement to a 40 and pot-brownies. "Rollergirls" should not be missed, despite these shortcomings. Real or not, its representational of America, and not the guilty-pleasure part of America... the part that is just pleasure. Pleasure, and life.
NOTE: I feel like this subject matter also lends itself to the subject of co-opting indie-culture. Or the notion of indie-culture for the masses, and how utterly ridiculous that phrase is, but I've written too much. Perhaps another day.
*Interesting sidebar: I'm kind of fascinated by what level or realism people want out of their media. Most dramas score points for being as true-to-life they can possibly be. A show labeled as "gritty" is suppose to be "real" which then theoretically makes it "good." And yet, no one apparently wants to watch a comedy that is real, because it makes them uncomfortable (which is why, I suppose, The Office, can't hold onto Earl's numbers-- a show that is exceptionally unreal). What's even more peculiar is that the "Reality" programming that people respond to are all based on premises that border on the surreal. I mean, there's a "Reality Show" whose name is "The Surreal Life" and if anyone can explain that to me, I'll ship you your weight in aged cheese. The Real World has never really been about (save for the first 2.3 seasons) BEING REAL. Reality rarely comes with a furnished loft and the ability NOT to work. In fact, one of my favorite seasons, New Orleans (8), actually had a character who was rarely in the show because he went out and got a job.
This seems to carry itself over to movies as well, but more in terms of what audiences are suppose to be scared of:
If Chloe Sevigny gives Vincent Gallo a tragic blowjob, "The Brown Bunny" gets released UNRATED or suffers from the dreadful NC-17 box-office killer, and yet Hollywood can go mad-crazy for the burgeoning torchure porn genre of horror filmmaking and no one thinks twice about it.
0 Comments
Friday, January 06, 2006
Meeting Dr. Pepper
posted by RICK : 7:00 PM
While in Omaha I was planning on shooting a few scenes from a movie I've been working on for what seems like all eternity, but schedules became tight and when push came to shove I just couldn't justify making myself and my friends stay up all night roaming the frozen streets of west Omaha until the sun shows its ugly head. So instead my sister and I put together a short based on the world's greatest scientist (and on an old recoil piece). It's not high art, but it is mildly entertaining.
Apologies ahead of time for the shoddy production values, but c'mon, this is comedy not Brokeback Mountain.
Dr_Pepper.mp4 [10.4mb]
0 Comments
Wednesday, January 04, 2006
The first forgettable record of 2006.
posted by RICK : 4:55 PM
Like the rest of America that is still hopelessly clinging onto the early aughts, yesterday I picked up First Impressions of Earth" by one-time supergroup The Strokes. I'm not going to say I was excited for its release, as I wasn't, but I was hoping that it would be a pleasant gem in an otherwise cold, unforgiving winter. I've had the record for about 24 hours as of this writing and have yet to get all the way through it (mostly because of time constraints and my lack of iPod), but that being said what I've heard couldn't be more boring-- or at the very least-- couldn't descend into complacency quicker. The first two tracks are exactly what I was hoping for, but then it just turns into the jangle-jangle-whine-whine formula that they never really had in the past, but always hinted at.
The very first time I heard The Stokes was on Halloween night in 2001, when I bought myself tickets to their first NYC show after the record ("Is This It?") was released. That show kicked ass. I wasn't even sure if this was a band I liked or not. All I could tell was that the crowd was going nuts, and I wasn't certain if I'd make it off the Hammerstein floor alive. Perhaps more interestingly, I didn't know at the time that this was suppose to be the Jesus Christ of rock and roll that was going to come down from the heavens and save us from a world of ultra-produced boy-bands and rap-metal. Now, I see that in order to have fulfilled the prophecy they had to eventually die. At the time I was never of the opinion, unlike many, that this band WAS the end-all, and by the time I actually got their record and decided "hey, these kids are good," the moment had already passed and the Hipster-Pontious-Pilot had called for their heads.
When the dust settles, I'm sure I'll look back (perhaps like I did with Weezer's "Make Believe") and declare "First Impressions of Earth" to be a decent record. Hell, it may even start climbing in playcount years from now when I go through my library and think, "Oh yeah, this band was awesome once!" Unfortunately, until that moment comes I'm stuck with a boring record from a band that is no longer relevent in the ever expanding family tree of rock and roll.
In other sad music news...
It has been reported that pianist/pop-freak Nellie McKay has been dropped by Columbia Records. Apparently, she wanted to release her next album (originally due this coming Tuesday) with 23 songs, and they wanted to release it with 16-songs. Why, in the age of digital music this is even an issue is absolutely beyond me, but apparently she was trying to get out of the label anyway.
Her best quote on the situation:"It ain’t no use to sit and wonder why. They kept the coffee pot, I got the dog.” She added, “All that matters to me is that I can continue to make irritating music which will baffle and enrage."
-AP
I hope the record still comes out.
0 Comments
Tuesday, January 03, 2006
Such Great Heights.
Monday, January 02, 2006
Proving a point...
Welcome to "What Is Recoil?." If you would like to post something on this blog, but don't have a WIR-Blogger login, then send me an e-mail, and I'll make it happen. SHAZAM!
-Rick
(co-creator)
Rick |
Dynamarx |
rus-trick |
ryan |
The Potato |
JDM |
DrNewsie |
Mr. MS |
AK |
Brooke |
Stein |
Moses |
G |
CarrieOkie |
Jen |
Duhn |
M. Moore | Laura |
Mr.T |
kat |
abby | Greg
09/2005 | 10/2005 | 11/2005 | 12/2005 | 01/2006 | 02/2006 | 03/2006 | 04/2006 | 05/2006 | 06/2006 | 07/2006 | 08/2006 | 09/2006 | 10/2006 | 11/2006 | 12/2006 | 01/2007 | 02/2007 | 03/2007 |
"Chicago is the new Jenny"
Sunday, January 15, 2006
Strip Generator
Saturday, January 14, 2006
"Funny Ha Ha"
posted by RICK : 1:52 PM
My kind roommate let me borrow his Netflix'd copy of Funny Ha Ha last night. I knew little of the film outside of its name, and really had little to no motivation for watching it. I didn't know what it was about-- maybe something about a dinner party, I don't know-- and felt it was, generally speaking, one of those "critically acclaimed" films that I feel I should try to watch sometime, but never do-- like "Schindler's List."
But then I read this article on Slate (in Slate?) about the director's next film, Mutual Appreciation, and immediately decided that "Funny Ha Ha" needed to be watched.
I made the right decision.
"Funny Ha Ha" is a film that is greater than the sum of its parts. Even the subject matter, early 20-somethings coming to grips with post-graduate adulthood, couldn't be more cliche for a film shot on 16mm and starring what is essentially the cast of "Slacker." And yet it works. Really works. And I can't tell if its the amazing writing, or amazing acting, or amazing improv (probably all three), but I can't remember a time when I watched a fiction film and was as captivated by the characters as I was in this one. Maybe I can remember-- "Swingers?"
From the spring of 1998 to the spring of 1999 I watched "Swingers" at some points as many as three times a week. It started because I found the movie undeniably hilarious (and still do), but eventually I knew every beat of the jokes and ended up sticking around because it's an easy movie to imagine myself as the characters. Jon Favreau, to his great credit, created individuals who were both what I wanted to become and what I currently was. I imagine the same can be said for other people who were fans of the movie. After all, at the age of 17, nothing strikes a chord more to a heterosexual male than the story of a guy getting over a girl, because most often "a girl is a girl" but in "Swingers" getting over the girl can really be about getting over anything-- school, youth, a girl. There's also the introvert wanting to be the extrovert facet of the film, which is incredibly appealing to someone that doesn't like to talk to strangers. "Swingers" in a weird way, was my gateway to adulthood. Life-drama never really seemed as big a deal after, and maybe that's a sad sentiment and that I've clearly been spending the past 8 years inhabiting some sort of tragic fantasyland, but it has gotten me this far.
Watching "Funny Ha Ha" last night brought all those feelings back, but in a different way. I wasn't projecting myself onto those characters because my lifestyle and theirs, while not being mutually exclusive, aren't really all that similar either. Perhaps what I found most interesting was that, unlike "Swingers," I felt that maybe the characters in "Funny Ha Ha" were how I was suppose to end up. It's the feeling of experiencing the same thing at two completely different points in your life. The plot of "Funny Ha Ha" couldn't be much thinner (which I love), but the basic premise deals with the notion that the post-collegiate-urban-hipster typically finds themselves in one of two camps, 1) employed by a company you are indifferent to and thus spend your non-working hours going from party to party drinking away your boredom or 2) unemployed and thus spend your non-working hours going from party to party drinking away your boredom, and sometimes trying to look for temporary work. Both of these types are also poor communicators, despite most evidence pointing to many communications degrees scattered amongst them. I find myself closer to group #1 than to #2, but I've never been much of a hard-core drinker, and frankly find myself too motivated to be that disillusioned. But I'm watching this movie and looking at these characters in their retro-tees and bedhead and PBR and thinking, "I know that this movie is suppose to make me thankful that I'm not living in a state of post-ironic purgatory, but goddamn if that lifestyle isn't appealing!" Sure, I have a regular job and earn a decent wage, and while going from house-party to house-party might be a sorry existence, it also seems completely acceptable and dare I say necessary.
After all, the characters in "Funny Ha Ha" aren't going to die alone in the gutter. They're going to die alone (or surrounded by family... but definitely dead) in their suburban split-levels or downtown condos because people with a means usually pull it together at some point. Maybe that's why I found the film so pleasant-- there's never any real danger or real drama. The characters in this environment, as in reality, are essentially safe. Sure, there are rocky times, but this isn't Baghdad. Watching this lifestyle portrayed so perfectly on film comes off, at least to this viewer, as relatively optimistic.
0 Comments
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
Lost
Distraction: a delightful game show.
posted by RICK : 4:53 PM
Before both this season and the previous one, Comedy Central ran myriad ads trying to pump up viewership for their new gameshow "Distraction," and both times I found the show to have an interesting premise, but not a whole lot else. It didn't have the stakes of a "Win Ben Stein's Money" or the grab of a "Beat the Geeks," and the whole Double-Dare-Stunts thing always seems a bit forced.
Well, all of this is true until you actually watch an episode. The show is endlessly fasciniting and exceptionally hillarious. Most notable is the parade of creativity used in each of the shows rounds of questioning. Last night some of the highlights included launching a pie at your face every time you buzz in for an answer, and then in another round having to answer questions while simulataneously adding clothespins to your face. It's not exactly the most highbrow, but damn if it isn't fun to watch.
A personal favorite episode from last season dealth with 4 contestants having to sit in a bathroom stall after drinking a gallon of water. They then had to "buzz-in" to answer trivia questions by being the first to pee. Yes, it sounds absolutley horrifying, but amazingly it comes off as playful.
Bottomline: watch DISTRACTION (Comedy Central - check listings).
0 Comments
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
New Release Tuesday.
Saturday, January 07, 2006
Rollergrrrrls
posted by RICK : 11:12 AM
"Camp and irony have come to the point where we can no longer deem something legitimately awful."
-BAP
At the time of that quote Mr. Flextimer and I were discussing the incredibly ridiculous pop-sensation "My Humps." He stated, justifiably, that it might be the single worst song ever to hit the charts. While I don't totally agree with the sentiment (every era has its radio mysteries-- "Baby Got Back" anyone?), I completely understand his reasoning: irony is out of control.
In the current climate everything is good, because even if it may come off as bad, it can be spun into a "cult sensation" or "guilty pleasure." And while I'm as guilty of this as anyone (yeah, I've downloaded "My Humps" AND listen to it frequently), it is absolutely destroying popular media. No wonder Arrested Development is getting canceled. Why would a network or studio want to shell out dollars for a good writing team when they can simply put a camera in a room full of retarded leprechauns and let the ad money simply roll in?
Being greeted with indifference is perhaps the worst fate for a show. When good is good and bad is good, the only real "bad" is mediocrity, which just might be the death-blow to the legitimately good program Rollergirls (A&E, Mondays @ 10pm est)- a "reality" show about the girls (or is it grrrls?) who compete in the Lone Star Rollergirls league in Austin. I quoted "reality" because this show is produced by the genius team that brought the world "Laguna Beach"-- an almost cinematic reality program on MTV designed to compete with FOX's fictional "The OC." I can't get myself to watch "Laguna." Not because I take issue with it's liberal use of the reality-moniker (after all, we've gone everywhere from The Real World to Survivor to the Joe Schmo Show to K-Street to the West West Wing, and who really gives a fuck if the characters are real or not*) but because I take issue with the show's peddling of a lifestyle where a bunch of rich cunts drive SUVs and paint their nails and complain about boys and their lives and how daddy didn't love them all while throwing rocks at the maid and forcing the immigrant gardener to-- look I've never seen this show. I have no idea what actually happens on it, but it doesn't matter. The IDEA of "Laguna Beach" is enough to make me hate it-- which happens to be draped in layers of irony as a slightly colder version of myself would probably LOVE it. So bad it's good, right? Wrong. The difference being that, in my mind, the target audience is 13-15 year-old girls who aren't going to interpret the show as anything other than "this is the way I'm suppose to live." I find this completely wreckless. Move the show to M2 and play it before "Wonder Shozen" and suddenly we're talking about a different beast altogether. But we aren't.
What makes "Rollergirls" significant is that it does what television is so perfect at-- giving the viewer a look into a lifestyle that is not their own. And in the case of this show, that lifestyle isn't necessarily one about indie-chicks wearing fishnets and beating the living piss out of one another, its about a generation of 20-somethings who aren't graphic designers or rock critics or running internet companies, but are carving out a place for themselves in an America that increasingly seems to think they don't matter. Look, Zach Braff didn't invent the quarter-life-crisis and for some people changing your life might need to be a little more visceral than "New Slang," which is to say that, yes, the fishnets and beating the piss out of one another is a definite plus.
What I responded to while watching the premiere episode on my computer last night was that this is the type of show that has the capability of attracting a demographic desperately in need of mainstream validation. Those people being the heartland's media elite. Digital cable, the internet and Netflix have made it possible for anyone not living in New York or Los Angeles to be as media savvy as their pretentious coast-dwelling kin. "Rollergirls" is a purple-state show if ever there was one. It takes place in the heart of Texas, though that heart happens to be Austin (the oasis). Also, the characters are predominantly middle-to-lower class-- a group that has been severely under-served across the television spectrum since the cancellation of Roseanne. Of course, this isn't the case for all of them. One girl, Venis Envy, who was the focus of this first episode was a former art-student who decided to buy a camper with her hipster boyfriend and travel the country living nomad life. This sounds like hipster chic, until you realize living out of a van is, generally speaking, not the American dream, but maybe for some-- actually I kind of hope it is.
Most refreshing, though, is Rollergirls' blatant sexuality that is everpresent, but never comes off as forced. The creators do an great job of presenting the girls as matter-of-fact as possible. I mean, let's not kid ourselves here, the underlying principles in Roller Derby are the marketing of sex and violence as entertainment, and perhaps that's exactly why it seems to work so well. This isn't WWE. The girls aren't silicone filled body-builders. They are, simply put, incredibly regular-- only tattooed, wearing little and kicking ass. It's post-feminist, but what's better is that its solidly representational of people living in the mid-United States. Also, a Hilton sister is nowhere to be found.
It should probably be noted that the last reality show I watched all the way through was The Real World #10 (back in New York), and even then the only reason I could justify watching was that I found myself stuck in front of a television running a marathon once and figured, what the hell. Perhaps this explains why I find the show so fantastic. Maybe "Rollergirls" is a reality show for people who patently hate reality shows. Unsurprisingly, more than one critic finds it bottom-rung, but I would argue that they simply don't know the audience.
Which brings things back to the original problem. If "Rollergirls" fails it will be because it isn't all that groundbreaking in the tradition "its not TV" sort of way and will hardly garner any sort of acclaim (this isn't the Amazing Fucking Race, now is it?), and yet it isn't the campy mess some were probably hoping for, making the series a perfect supplement to a 40 and pot-brownies. "Rollergirls" should not be missed, despite these shortcomings. Real or not, its representational of America, and not the guilty-pleasure part of America... the part that is just pleasure. Pleasure, and life.
NOTE: I feel like this subject matter also lends itself to the subject of co-opting indie-culture. Or the notion of indie-culture for the masses, and how utterly ridiculous that phrase is, but I've written too much. Perhaps another day.
*Interesting sidebar: I'm kind of fascinated by what level or realism people want out of their media. Most dramas score points for being as true-to-life they can possibly be. A show labeled as "gritty" is suppose to be "real" which then theoretically makes it "good." And yet, no one apparently wants to watch a comedy that is real, because it makes them uncomfortable (which is why, I suppose, The Office, can't hold onto Earl's numbers-- a show that is exceptionally unreal). What's even more peculiar is that the "Reality" programming that people respond to are all based on premises that border on the surreal. I mean, there's a "Reality Show" whose name is "The Surreal Life" and if anyone can explain that to me, I'll ship you your weight in aged cheese. The Real World has never really been about (save for the first 2.3 seasons) BEING REAL. Reality rarely comes with a furnished loft and the ability NOT to work. In fact, one of my favorite seasons, New Orleans (8), actually had a character who was rarely in the show because he went out and got a job.
This seems to carry itself over to movies as well, but more in terms of what audiences are suppose to be scared of:
If Chloe Sevigny gives Vincent Gallo a tragic blowjob, "The Brown Bunny" gets released UNRATED or suffers from the dreadful NC-17 box-office killer, and yet Hollywood can go mad-crazy for the burgeoning torchure porn genre of horror filmmaking and no one thinks twice about it.
0 Comments
Friday, January 06, 2006
Meeting Dr. Pepper
posted by RICK : 7:00 PM
While in Omaha I was planning on shooting a few scenes from a movie I've been working on for what seems like all eternity, but schedules became tight and when push came to shove I just couldn't justify making myself and my friends stay up all night roaming the frozen streets of west Omaha until the sun shows its ugly head. So instead my sister and I put together a short based on the world's greatest scientist (and on an old recoil piece). It's not high art, but it is mildly entertaining.
Apologies ahead of time for the shoddy production values, but c'mon, this is comedy not Brokeback Mountain.
Dr_Pepper.mp4 [10.4mb]
0 Comments
Wednesday, January 04, 2006
The first forgettable record of 2006.
posted by RICK : 4:55 PM
Like the rest of America that is still hopelessly clinging onto the early aughts, yesterday I picked up First Impressions of Earth" by one-time supergroup The Strokes. I'm not going to say I was excited for its release, as I wasn't, but I was hoping that it would be a pleasant gem in an otherwise cold, unforgiving winter. I've had the record for about 24 hours as of this writing and have yet to get all the way through it (mostly because of time constraints and my lack of iPod), but that being said what I've heard couldn't be more boring-- or at the very least-- couldn't descend into complacency quicker. The first two tracks are exactly what I was hoping for, but then it just turns into the jangle-jangle-whine-whine formula that they never really had in the past, but always hinted at.
The very first time I heard The Stokes was on Halloween night in 2001, when I bought myself tickets to their first NYC show after the record ("Is This It?") was released. That show kicked ass. I wasn't even sure if this was a band I liked or not. All I could tell was that the crowd was going nuts, and I wasn't certain if I'd make it off the Hammerstein floor alive. Perhaps more interestingly, I didn't know at the time that this was suppose to be the Jesus Christ of rock and roll that was going to come down from the heavens and save us from a world of ultra-produced boy-bands and rap-metal. Now, I see that in order to have fulfilled the prophecy they had to eventually die. At the time I was never of the opinion, unlike many, that this band WAS the end-all, and by the time I actually got their record and decided "hey, these kids are good," the moment had already passed and the Hipster-Pontious-Pilot had called for their heads.
When the dust settles, I'm sure I'll look back (perhaps like I did with Weezer's "Make Believe") and declare "First Impressions of Earth" to be a decent record. Hell, it may even start climbing in playcount years from now when I go through my library and think, "Oh yeah, this band was awesome once!" Unfortunately, until that moment comes I'm stuck with a boring record from a band that is no longer relevent in the ever expanding family tree of rock and roll.
In other sad music news...
It has been reported that pianist/pop-freak Nellie McKay has been dropped by Columbia Records. Apparently, she wanted to release her next album (originally due this coming Tuesday) with 23 songs, and they wanted to release it with 16-songs. Why, in the age of digital music this is even an issue is absolutely beyond me, but apparently she was trying to get out of the label anyway.
Her best quote on the situation:"It ain’t no use to sit and wonder why. They kept the coffee pot, I got the dog.” She added, “All that matters to me is that I can continue to make irritating music which will baffle and enrage."
-AP
I hope the record still comes out.
0 Comments
Tuesday, January 03, 2006
Such Great Heights.
Monday, January 02, 2006
Proving a point...
Welcome to "What Is Recoil?." If you would like to post something on this blog, but don't have a WIR-Blogger login, then send me an e-mail, and I'll make it happen. SHAZAM!
-Rick
(co-creator)
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rus-trick |
ryan |
The Potato |
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Mr. MS |
AK |
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Stein |
Moses |
G |
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Jen |
Duhn |
M. Moore | Laura |
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kat |
abby | Greg
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Saturday, January 14, 2006
"Funny Ha Ha"
posted by RICK : 1:52 PM
My kind roommate let me borrow his Netflix'd copy of Funny Ha Ha last night. I knew little of the film outside of its name, and really had little to no motivation for watching it. I didn't know what it was about-- maybe something about a dinner party, I don't know-- and felt it was, generally speaking, one of those "critically acclaimed" films that I feel I should try to watch sometime, but never do-- like "Schindler's List."
But then I read this article on Slate (in Slate?) about the director's next film, Mutual Appreciation, and immediately decided that "Funny Ha Ha" needed to be watched.
I made the right decision.
"Funny Ha Ha" is a film that is greater than the sum of its parts. Even the subject matter, early 20-somethings coming to grips with post-graduate adulthood, couldn't be more cliche for a film shot on 16mm and starring what is essentially the cast of "Slacker." And yet it works. Really works. And I can't tell if its the amazing writing, or amazing acting, or amazing improv (probably all three), but I can't remember a time when I watched a fiction film and was as captivated by the characters as I was in this one. Maybe I can remember-- "Swingers?"
From the spring of 1998 to the spring of 1999 I watched "Swingers" at some points as many as three times a week. It started because I found the movie undeniably hilarious (and still do), but eventually I knew every beat of the jokes and ended up sticking around because it's an easy movie to imagine myself as the characters. Jon Favreau, to his great credit, created individuals who were both what I wanted to become and what I currently was. I imagine the same can be said for other people who were fans of the movie. After all, at the age of 17, nothing strikes a chord more to a heterosexual male than the story of a guy getting over a girl, because most often "a girl is a girl" but in "Swingers" getting over the girl can really be about getting over anything-- school, youth, a girl. There's also the introvert wanting to be the extrovert facet of the film, which is incredibly appealing to someone that doesn't like to talk to strangers. "Swingers" in a weird way, was my gateway to adulthood. Life-drama never really seemed as big a deal after, and maybe that's a sad sentiment and that I've clearly been spending the past 8 years inhabiting some sort of tragic fantasyland, but it has gotten me this far.
Watching "Funny Ha Ha" last night brought all those feelings back, but in a different way. I wasn't projecting myself onto those characters because my lifestyle and theirs, while not being mutually exclusive, aren't really all that similar either. Perhaps what I found most interesting was that, unlike "Swingers," I felt that maybe the characters in "Funny Ha Ha" were how I was suppose to end up. It's the feeling of experiencing the same thing at two completely different points in your life. The plot of "Funny Ha Ha" couldn't be much thinner (which I love), but the basic premise deals with the notion that the post-collegiate-urban-hipster typically finds themselves in one of two camps, 1) employed by a company you are indifferent to and thus spend your non-working hours going from party to party drinking away your boredom or 2) unemployed and thus spend your non-working hours going from party to party drinking away your boredom, and sometimes trying to look for temporary work. Both of these types are also poor communicators, despite most evidence pointing to many communications degrees scattered amongst them. I find myself closer to group #1 than to #2, but I've never been much of a hard-core drinker, and frankly find myself too motivated to be that disillusioned. But I'm watching this movie and looking at these characters in their retro-tees and bedhead and PBR and thinking, "I know that this movie is suppose to make me thankful that I'm not living in a state of post-ironic purgatory, but goddamn if that lifestyle isn't appealing!" Sure, I have a regular job and earn a decent wage, and while going from house-party to house-party might be a sorry existence, it also seems completely acceptable and dare I say necessary.
After all, the characters in "Funny Ha Ha" aren't going to die alone in the gutter. They're going to die alone (or surrounded by family... but definitely dead) in their suburban split-levels or downtown condos because people with a means usually pull it together at some point. Maybe that's why I found the film so pleasant-- there's never any real danger or real drama. The characters in this environment, as in reality, are essentially safe. Sure, there are rocky times, but this isn't Baghdad. Watching this lifestyle portrayed so perfectly on film comes off, at least to this viewer, as relatively optimistic.
0 Comments
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
Lost
Distraction: a delightful game show.
posted by RICK : 4:53 PM
Before both this season and the previous one, Comedy Central ran myriad ads trying to pump up viewership for their new gameshow "Distraction," and both times I found the show to have an interesting premise, but not a whole lot else. It didn't have the stakes of a "Win Ben Stein's Money" or the grab of a "Beat the Geeks," and the whole Double-Dare-Stunts thing always seems a bit forced.
Well, all of this is true until you actually watch an episode. The show is endlessly fasciniting and exceptionally hillarious. Most notable is the parade of creativity used in each of the shows rounds of questioning. Last night some of the highlights included launching a pie at your face every time you buzz in for an answer, and then in another round having to answer questions while simulataneously adding clothespins to your face. It's not exactly the most highbrow, but damn if it isn't fun to watch.
A personal favorite episode from last season dealth with 4 contestants having to sit in a bathroom stall after drinking a gallon of water. They then had to "buzz-in" to answer trivia questions by being the first to pee. Yes, it sounds absolutley horrifying, but amazingly it comes off as playful.
Bottomline: watch DISTRACTION (Comedy Central - check listings).
0 Comments
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
New Release Tuesday.
Saturday, January 07, 2006
Rollergrrrrls
posted by RICK : 11:12 AM
"Camp and irony have come to the point where we can no longer deem something legitimately awful."
-BAP
At the time of that quote Mr. Flextimer and I were discussing the incredibly ridiculous pop-sensation "My Humps." He stated, justifiably, that it might be the single worst song ever to hit the charts. While I don't totally agree with the sentiment (every era has its radio mysteries-- "Baby Got Back" anyone?), I completely understand his reasoning: irony is out of control.
In the current climate everything is good, because even if it may come off as bad, it can be spun into a "cult sensation" or "guilty pleasure." And while I'm as guilty of this as anyone (yeah, I've downloaded "My Humps" AND listen to it frequently), it is absolutely destroying popular media. No wonder Arrested Development is getting canceled. Why would a network or studio want to shell out dollars for a good writing team when they can simply put a camera in a room full of retarded leprechauns and let the ad money simply roll in?
Being greeted with indifference is perhaps the worst fate for a show. When good is good and bad is good, the only real "bad" is mediocrity, which just might be the death-blow to the legitimately good program Rollergirls (A&E, Mondays @ 10pm est)- a "reality" show about the girls (or is it grrrls?) who compete in the Lone Star Rollergirls league in Austin. I quoted "reality" because this show is produced by the genius team that brought the world "Laguna Beach"-- an almost cinematic reality program on MTV designed to compete with FOX's fictional "The OC." I can't get myself to watch "Laguna." Not because I take issue with it's liberal use of the reality-moniker (after all, we've gone everywhere from The Real World to Survivor to the Joe Schmo Show to K-Street to the West West Wing, and who really gives a fuck if the characters are real or not*) but because I take issue with the show's peddling of a lifestyle where a bunch of rich cunts drive SUVs and paint their nails and complain about boys and their lives and how daddy didn't love them all while throwing rocks at the maid and forcing the immigrant gardener to-- look I've never seen this show. I have no idea what actually happens on it, but it doesn't matter. The IDEA of "Laguna Beach" is enough to make me hate it-- which happens to be draped in layers of irony as a slightly colder version of myself would probably LOVE it. So bad it's good, right? Wrong. The difference being that, in my mind, the target audience is 13-15 year-old girls who aren't going to interpret the show as anything other than "this is the way I'm suppose to live." I find this completely wreckless. Move the show to M2 and play it before "Wonder Shozen" and suddenly we're talking about a different beast altogether. But we aren't.
What makes "Rollergirls" significant is that it does what television is so perfect at-- giving the viewer a look into a lifestyle that is not their own. And in the case of this show, that lifestyle isn't necessarily one about indie-chicks wearing fishnets and beating the living piss out of one another, its about a generation of 20-somethings who aren't graphic designers or rock critics or running internet companies, but are carving out a place for themselves in an America that increasingly seems to think they don't matter. Look, Zach Braff didn't invent the quarter-life-crisis and for some people changing your life might need to be a little more visceral than "New Slang," which is to say that, yes, the fishnets and beating the piss out of one another is a definite plus.
What I responded to while watching the premiere episode on my computer last night was that this is the type of show that has the capability of attracting a demographic desperately in need of mainstream validation. Those people being the heartland's media elite. Digital cable, the internet and Netflix have made it possible for anyone not living in New York or Los Angeles to be as media savvy as their pretentious coast-dwelling kin. "Rollergirls" is a purple-state show if ever there was one. It takes place in the heart of Texas, though that heart happens to be Austin (the oasis). Also, the characters are predominantly middle-to-lower class-- a group that has been severely under-served across the television spectrum since the cancellation of Roseanne. Of course, this isn't the case for all of them. One girl, Venis Envy, who was the focus of this first episode was a former art-student who decided to buy a camper with her hipster boyfriend and travel the country living nomad life. This sounds like hipster chic, until you realize living out of a van is, generally speaking, not the American dream, but maybe for some-- actually I kind of hope it is.
Most refreshing, though, is Rollergirls' blatant sexuality that is everpresent, but never comes off as forced. The creators do an great job of presenting the girls as matter-of-fact as possible. I mean, let's not kid ourselves here, the underlying principles in Roller Derby are the marketing of sex and violence as entertainment, and perhaps that's exactly why it seems to work so well. This isn't WWE. The girls aren't silicone filled body-builders. They are, simply put, incredibly regular-- only tattooed, wearing little and kicking ass. It's post-feminist, but what's better is that its solidly representational of people living in the mid-United States. Also, a Hilton sister is nowhere to be found.
It should probably be noted that the last reality show I watched all the way through was The Real World #10 (back in New York), and even then the only reason I could justify watching was that I found myself stuck in front of a television running a marathon once and figured, what the hell. Perhaps this explains why I find the show so fantastic. Maybe "Rollergirls" is a reality show for people who patently hate reality shows. Unsurprisingly, more than one critic finds it bottom-rung, but I would argue that they simply don't know the audience.
Which brings things back to the original problem. If "Rollergirls" fails it will be because it isn't all that groundbreaking in the tradition "its not TV" sort of way and will hardly garner any sort of acclaim (this isn't the Amazing Fucking Race, now is it?), and yet it isn't the campy mess some were probably hoping for, making the series a perfect supplement to a 40 and pot-brownies. "Rollergirls" should not be missed, despite these shortcomings. Real or not, its representational of America, and not the guilty-pleasure part of America... the part that is just pleasure. Pleasure, and life.
NOTE: I feel like this subject matter also lends itself to the subject of co-opting indie-culture. Or the notion of indie-culture for the masses, and how utterly ridiculous that phrase is, but I've written too much. Perhaps another day.
*Interesting sidebar: I'm kind of fascinated by what level or realism people want out of their media. Most dramas score points for being as true-to-life they can possibly be. A show labeled as "gritty" is suppose to be "real" which then theoretically makes it "good." And yet, no one apparently wants to watch a comedy that is real, because it makes them uncomfortable (which is why, I suppose, The Office, can't hold onto Earl's numbers-- a show that is exceptionally unreal). What's even more peculiar is that the "Reality" programming that people respond to are all based on premises that border on the surreal. I mean, there's a "Reality Show" whose name is "The Surreal Life" and if anyone can explain that to me, I'll ship you your weight in aged cheese. The Real World has never really been about (save for the first 2.3 seasons) BEING REAL. Reality rarely comes with a furnished loft and the ability NOT to work. In fact, one of my favorite seasons, New Orleans (8), actually had a character who was rarely in the show because he went out and got a job.
This seems to carry itself over to movies as well, but more in terms of what audiences are suppose to be scared of:
If Chloe Sevigny gives Vincent Gallo a tragic blowjob, "The Brown Bunny" gets released UNRATED or suffers from the dreadful NC-17 box-office killer, and yet Hollywood can go mad-crazy for the burgeoning torchure porn genre of horror filmmaking and no one thinks twice about it.
0 Comments
Friday, January 06, 2006
Meeting Dr. Pepper
posted by RICK : 7:00 PM
While in Omaha I was planning on shooting a few scenes from a movie I've been working on for what seems like all eternity, but schedules became tight and when push came to shove I just couldn't justify making myself and my friends stay up all night roaming the frozen streets of west Omaha until the sun shows its ugly head. So instead my sister and I put together a short based on the world's greatest scientist (and on an old recoil piece). It's not high art, but it is mildly entertaining.
Apologies ahead of time for the shoddy production values, but c'mon, this is comedy not Brokeback Mountain.
Dr_Pepper.mp4 [10.4mb]
0 Comments
Wednesday, January 04, 2006
The first forgettable record of 2006.
posted by RICK : 4:55 PM
Like the rest of America that is still hopelessly clinging onto the early aughts, yesterday I picked up First Impressions of Earth" by one-time supergroup The Strokes. I'm not going to say I was excited for its release, as I wasn't, but I was hoping that it would be a pleasant gem in an otherwise cold, unforgiving winter. I've had the record for about 24 hours as of this writing and have yet to get all the way through it (mostly because of time constraints and my lack of iPod), but that being said what I've heard couldn't be more boring-- or at the very least-- couldn't descend into complacency quicker. The first two tracks are exactly what I was hoping for, but then it just turns into the jangle-jangle-whine-whine formula that they never really had in the past, but always hinted at.
The very first time I heard The Stokes was on Halloween night in 2001, when I bought myself tickets to their first NYC show after the record ("Is This It?") was released. That show kicked ass. I wasn't even sure if this was a band I liked or not. All I could tell was that the crowd was going nuts, and I wasn't certain if I'd make it off the Hammerstein floor alive. Perhaps more interestingly, I didn't know at the time that this was suppose to be the Jesus Christ of rock and roll that was going to come down from the heavens and save us from a world of ultra-produced boy-bands and rap-metal. Now, I see that in order to have fulfilled the prophecy they had to eventually die. At the time I was never of the opinion, unlike many, that this band WAS the end-all, and by the time I actually got their record and decided "hey, these kids are good," the moment had already passed and the Hipster-Pontious-Pilot had called for their heads.
When the dust settles, I'm sure I'll look back (perhaps like I did with Weezer's "Make Believe") and declare "First Impressions of Earth" to be a decent record. Hell, it may even start climbing in playcount years from now when I go through my library and think, "Oh yeah, this band was awesome once!" Unfortunately, until that moment comes I'm stuck with a boring record from a band that is no longer relevent in the ever expanding family tree of rock and roll.
In other sad music news...
It has been reported that pianist/pop-freak Nellie McKay has been dropped by Columbia Records. Apparently, she wanted to release her next album (originally due this coming Tuesday) with 23 songs, and they wanted to release it with 16-songs. Why, in the age of digital music this is even an issue is absolutely beyond me, but apparently she was trying to get out of the label anyway.
Her best quote on the situation:"It ain’t no use to sit and wonder why. They kept the coffee pot, I got the dog.” She added, “All that matters to me is that I can continue to make irritating music which will baffle and enrage."
-AP
I hope the record still comes out.
0 Comments
Tuesday, January 03, 2006
Such Great Heights.
Monday, January 02, 2006
Proving a point...
Welcome to "What Is Recoil?." If you would like to post something on this blog, but don't have a WIR-Blogger login, then send me an e-mail, and I'll make it happen. SHAZAM!
-Rick
(co-creator)
Rick |
Dynamarx |
rus-trick |
ryan |
The Potato |
JDM |
DrNewsie |
Mr. MS |
AK |
Brooke |
Stein |
Moses |
G |
CarrieOkie |
Jen |
Duhn |
M. Moore | Laura |
Mr.T |
kat |
abby | Greg
09/2005 | 10/2005 | 11/2005 | 12/2005 | 01/2006 | 02/2006 | 03/2006 | 04/2006 | 05/2006 | 06/2006 | 07/2006 | 08/2006 | 09/2006 | 10/2006 | 11/2006 | 12/2006 | 01/2007 | 02/2007 | 03/2007 |
"Funny Ha Ha"
posted by RICK : 1:52 PM
My kind roommate let me borrow his Netflix'd copy of Funny Ha Ha last night. I knew little of the film outside of its name, and really had little to no motivation for watching it. I didn't know what it was about-- maybe something about a dinner party, I don't know-- and felt it was, generally speaking, one of those "critically acclaimed" films that I feel I should try to watch sometime, but never do-- like "Schindler's List."
But then I read this article on Slate (in Slate?) about the director's next film, Mutual Appreciation, and immediately decided that "Funny Ha Ha" needed to be watched.
I made the right decision.
"Funny Ha Ha" is a film that is greater than the sum of its parts. Even the subject matter, early 20-somethings coming to grips with post-graduate adulthood, couldn't be more cliche for a film shot on 16mm and starring what is essentially the cast of "Slacker." And yet it works. Really works. And I can't tell if its the amazing writing, or amazing acting, or amazing improv (probably all three), but I can't remember a time when I watched a fiction film and was as captivated by the characters as I was in this one. Maybe I can remember-- "Swingers?"
From the spring of 1998 to the spring of 1999 I watched "Swingers" at some points as many as three times a week. It started because I found the movie undeniably hilarious (and still do), but eventually I knew every beat of the jokes and ended up sticking around because it's an easy movie to imagine myself as the characters. Jon Favreau, to his great credit, created individuals who were both what I wanted to become and what I currently was. I imagine the same can be said for other people who were fans of the movie. After all, at the age of 17, nothing strikes a chord more to a heterosexual male than the story of a guy getting over a girl, because most often "a girl is a girl" but in "Swingers" getting over the girl can really be about getting over anything-- school, youth, a girl. There's also the introvert wanting to be the extrovert facet of the film, which is incredibly appealing to someone that doesn't like to talk to strangers. "Swingers" in a weird way, was my gateway to adulthood. Life-drama never really seemed as big a deal after, and maybe that's a sad sentiment and that I've clearly been spending the past 8 years inhabiting some sort of tragic fantasyland, but it has gotten me this far.
Watching "Funny Ha Ha" last night brought all those feelings back, but in a different way. I wasn't projecting myself onto those characters because my lifestyle and theirs, while not being mutually exclusive, aren't really all that similar either. Perhaps what I found most interesting was that, unlike "Swingers," I felt that maybe the characters in "Funny Ha Ha" were how I was suppose to end up. It's the feeling of experiencing the same thing at two completely different points in your life. The plot of "Funny Ha Ha" couldn't be much thinner (which I love), but the basic premise deals with the notion that the post-collegiate-urban-hipster typically finds themselves in one of two camps, 1) employed by a company you are indifferent to and thus spend your non-working hours going from party to party drinking away your boredom or 2) unemployed and thus spend your non-working hours going from party to party drinking away your boredom, and sometimes trying to look for temporary work. Both of these types are also poor communicators, despite most evidence pointing to many communications degrees scattered amongst them. I find myself closer to group #1 than to #2, but I've never been much of a hard-core drinker, and frankly find myself too motivated to be that disillusioned. But I'm watching this movie and looking at these characters in their retro-tees and bedhead and PBR and thinking, "I know that this movie is suppose to make me thankful that I'm not living in a state of post-ironic purgatory, but goddamn if that lifestyle isn't appealing!" Sure, I have a regular job and earn a decent wage, and while going from house-party to house-party might be a sorry existence, it also seems completely acceptable and dare I say necessary.
After all, the characters in "Funny Ha Ha" aren't going to die alone in the gutter. They're going to die alone (or surrounded by family... but definitely dead) in their suburban split-levels or downtown condos because people with a means usually pull it together at some point. Maybe that's why I found the film so pleasant-- there's never any real danger or real drama. The characters in this environment, as in reality, are essentially safe. Sure, there are rocky times, but this isn't Baghdad. Watching this lifestyle portrayed so perfectly on film comes off, at least to this viewer, as relatively optimistic.
0 Comments
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
Lost
Distraction: a delightful game show.
posted by RICK : 4:53 PM
Before both this season and the previous one, Comedy Central ran myriad ads trying to pump up viewership for their new gameshow "Distraction," and both times I found the show to have an interesting premise, but not a whole lot else. It didn't have the stakes of a "Win Ben Stein's Money" or the grab of a "Beat the Geeks," and the whole Double-Dare-Stunts thing always seems a bit forced.
Well, all of this is true until you actually watch an episode. The show is endlessly fasciniting and exceptionally hillarious. Most notable is the parade of creativity used in each of the shows rounds of questioning. Last night some of the highlights included launching a pie at your face every time you buzz in for an answer, and then in another round having to answer questions while simulataneously adding clothespins to your face. It's not exactly the most highbrow, but damn if it isn't fun to watch.
A personal favorite episode from last season dealth with 4 contestants having to sit in a bathroom stall after drinking a gallon of water. They then had to "buzz-in" to answer trivia questions by being the first to pee. Yes, it sounds absolutley horrifying, but amazingly it comes off as playful.
Bottomline: watch DISTRACTION (Comedy Central - check listings).
0 Comments
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
New Release Tuesday.
Saturday, January 07, 2006
Rollergrrrrls
posted by RICK : 11:12 AM
"Camp and irony have come to the point where we can no longer deem something legitimately awful."
-BAP
At the time of that quote Mr. Flextimer and I were discussing the incredibly ridiculous pop-sensation "My Humps." He stated, justifiably, that it might be the single worst song ever to hit the charts. While I don't totally agree with the sentiment (every era has its radio mysteries-- "Baby Got Back" anyone?), I completely understand his reasoning: irony is out of control.
In the current climate everything is good, because even if it may come off as bad, it can be spun into a "cult sensation" or "guilty pleasure." And while I'm as guilty of this as anyone (yeah, I've downloaded "My Humps" AND listen to it frequently), it is absolutely destroying popular media. No wonder Arrested Development is getting canceled. Why would a network or studio want to shell out dollars for a good writing team when they can simply put a camera in a room full of retarded leprechauns and let the ad money simply roll in?
Being greeted with indifference is perhaps the worst fate for a show. When good is good and bad is good, the only real "bad" is mediocrity, which just might be the death-blow to the legitimately good program Rollergirls (A&E, Mondays @ 10pm est)- a "reality" show about the girls (or is it grrrls?) who compete in the Lone Star Rollergirls league in Austin. I quoted "reality" because this show is produced by the genius team that brought the world "Laguna Beach"-- an almost cinematic reality program on MTV designed to compete with FOX's fictional "The OC." I can't get myself to watch "Laguna." Not because I take issue with it's liberal use of the reality-moniker (after all, we've gone everywhere from The Real World to Survivor to the Joe Schmo Show to K-Street to the West West Wing, and who really gives a fuck if the characters are real or not*) but because I take issue with the show's peddling of a lifestyle where a bunch of rich cunts drive SUVs and paint their nails and complain about boys and their lives and how daddy didn't love them all while throwing rocks at the maid and forcing the immigrant gardener to-- look I've never seen this show. I have no idea what actually happens on it, but it doesn't matter. The IDEA of "Laguna Beach" is enough to make me hate it-- which happens to be draped in layers of irony as a slightly colder version of myself would probably LOVE it. So bad it's good, right? Wrong. The difference being that, in my mind, the target audience is 13-15 year-old girls who aren't going to interpret the show as anything other than "this is the way I'm suppose to live." I find this completely wreckless. Move the show to M2 and play it before "Wonder Shozen" and suddenly we're talking about a different beast altogether. But we aren't.
What makes "Rollergirls" significant is that it does what television is so perfect at-- giving the viewer a look into a lifestyle that is not their own. And in the case of this show, that lifestyle isn't necessarily one about indie-chicks wearing fishnets and beating the living piss out of one another, its about a generation of 20-somethings who aren't graphic designers or rock critics or running internet companies, but are carving out a place for themselves in an America that increasingly seems to think they don't matter. Look, Zach Braff didn't invent the quarter-life-crisis and for some people changing your life might need to be a little more visceral than "New Slang," which is to say that, yes, the fishnets and beating the piss out of one another is a definite plus.
What I responded to while watching the premiere episode on my computer last night was that this is the type of show that has the capability of attracting a demographic desperately in need of mainstream validation. Those people being the heartland's media elite. Digital cable, the internet and Netflix have made it possible for anyone not living in New York or Los Angeles to be as media savvy as their pretentious coast-dwelling kin. "Rollergirls" is a purple-state show if ever there was one. It takes place in the heart of Texas, though that heart happens to be Austin (the oasis). Also, the characters are predominantly middle-to-lower class-- a group that has been severely under-served across the television spectrum since the cancellation of Roseanne. Of course, this isn't the case for all of them. One girl, Venis Envy, who was the focus of this first episode was a former art-student who decided to buy a camper with her hipster boyfriend and travel the country living nomad life. This sounds like hipster chic, until you realize living out of a van is, generally speaking, not the American dream, but maybe for some-- actually I kind of hope it is.
Most refreshing, though, is Rollergirls' blatant sexuality that is everpresent, but never comes off as forced. The creators do an great job of presenting the girls as matter-of-fact as possible. I mean, let's not kid ourselves here, the underlying principles in Roller Derby are the marketing of sex and violence as entertainment, and perhaps that's exactly why it seems to work so well. This isn't WWE. The girls aren't silicone filled body-builders. They are, simply put, incredibly regular-- only tattooed, wearing little and kicking ass. It's post-feminist, but what's better is that its solidly representational of people living in the mid-United States. Also, a Hilton sister is nowhere to be found.
It should probably be noted that the last reality show I watched all the way through was The Real World #10 (back in New York), and even then the only reason I could justify watching was that I found myself stuck in front of a television running a marathon once and figured, what the hell. Perhaps this explains why I find the show so fantastic. Maybe "Rollergirls" is a reality show for people who patently hate reality shows. Unsurprisingly, more than one critic finds it bottom-rung, but I would argue that they simply don't know the audience.
Which brings things back to the original problem. If "Rollergirls" fails it will be because it isn't all that groundbreaking in the tradition "its not TV" sort of way and will hardly garner any sort of acclaim (this isn't the Amazing Fucking Race, now is it?), and yet it isn't the campy mess some were probably hoping for, making the series a perfect supplement to a 40 and pot-brownies. "Rollergirls" should not be missed, despite these shortcomings. Real or not, its representational of America, and not the guilty-pleasure part of America... the part that is just pleasure. Pleasure, and life.
NOTE: I feel like this subject matter also lends itself to the subject of co-opting indie-culture. Or the notion of indie-culture for the masses, and how utterly ridiculous that phrase is, but I've written too much. Perhaps another day.
*Interesting sidebar: I'm kind of fascinated by what level or realism people want out of their media. Most dramas score points for being as true-to-life they can possibly be. A show labeled as "gritty" is suppose to be "real" which then theoretically makes it "good." And yet, no one apparently wants to watch a comedy that is real, because it makes them uncomfortable (which is why, I suppose, The Office, can't hold onto Earl's numbers-- a show that is exceptionally unreal). What's even more peculiar is that the "Reality" programming that people respond to are all based on premises that border on the surreal. I mean, there's a "Reality Show" whose name is "The Surreal Life" and if anyone can explain that to me, I'll ship you your weight in aged cheese. The Real World has never really been about (save for the first 2.3 seasons) BEING REAL. Reality rarely comes with a furnished loft and the ability NOT to work. In fact, one of my favorite seasons, New Orleans (8), actually had a character who was rarely in the show because he went out and got a job.
This seems to carry itself over to movies as well, but more in terms of what audiences are suppose to be scared of:
If Chloe Sevigny gives Vincent Gallo a tragic blowjob, "The Brown Bunny" gets released UNRATED or suffers from the dreadful NC-17 box-office killer, and yet Hollywood can go mad-crazy for the burgeoning torchure porn genre of horror filmmaking and no one thinks twice about it.
0 Comments
Friday, January 06, 2006
Meeting Dr. Pepper
posted by RICK : 7:00 PM
While in Omaha I was planning on shooting a few scenes from a movie I've been working on for what seems like all eternity, but schedules became tight and when push came to shove I just couldn't justify making myself and my friends stay up all night roaming the frozen streets of west Omaha until the sun shows its ugly head. So instead my sister and I put together a short based on the world's greatest scientist (and on an old recoil piece). It's not high art, but it is mildly entertaining.
Apologies ahead of time for the shoddy production values, but c'mon, this is comedy not Brokeback Mountain.
Dr_Pepper.mp4 [10.4mb]
0 Comments
Wednesday, January 04, 2006
The first forgettable record of 2006.
posted by RICK : 4:55 PM
Like the rest of America that is still hopelessly clinging onto the early aughts, yesterday I picked up First Impressions of Earth" by one-time supergroup The Strokes. I'm not going to say I was excited for its release, as I wasn't, but I was hoping that it would be a pleasant gem in an otherwise cold, unforgiving winter. I've had the record for about 24 hours as of this writing and have yet to get all the way through it (mostly because of time constraints and my lack of iPod), but that being said what I've heard couldn't be more boring-- or at the very least-- couldn't descend into complacency quicker. The first two tracks are exactly what I was hoping for, but then it just turns into the jangle-jangle-whine-whine formula that they never really had in the past, but always hinted at.
The very first time I heard The Stokes was on Halloween night in 2001, when I bought myself tickets to their first NYC show after the record ("Is This It?") was released. That show kicked ass. I wasn't even sure if this was a band I liked or not. All I could tell was that the crowd was going nuts, and I wasn't certain if I'd make it off the Hammerstein floor alive. Perhaps more interestingly, I didn't know at the time that this was suppose to be the Jesus Christ of rock and roll that was going to come down from the heavens and save us from a world of ultra-produced boy-bands and rap-metal. Now, I see that in order to have fulfilled the prophecy they had to eventually die. At the time I was never of the opinion, unlike many, that this band WAS the end-all, and by the time I actually got their record and decided "hey, these kids are good," the moment had already passed and the Hipster-Pontious-Pilot had called for their heads.
When the dust settles, I'm sure I'll look back (perhaps like I did with Weezer's "Make Believe") and declare "First Impressions of Earth" to be a decent record. Hell, it may even start climbing in playcount years from now when I go through my library and think, "Oh yeah, this band was awesome once!" Unfortunately, until that moment comes I'm stuck with a boring record from a band that is no longer relevent in the ever expanding family tree of rock and roll.
In other sad music news...
It has been reported that pianist/pop-freak Nellie McKay has been dropped by Columbia Records. Apparently, she wanted to release her next album (originally due this coming Tuesday) with 23 songs, and they wanted to release it with 16-songs. Why, in the age of digital music this is even an issue is absolutely beyond me, but apparently she was trying to get out of the label anyway.
Her best quote on the situation:"It ain’t no use to sit and wonder why. They kept the coffee pot, I got the dog.” She added, “All that matters to me is that I can continue to make irritating music which will baffle and enrage."
-AP
I hope the record still comes out.
0 Comments
Tuesday, January 03, 2006
Such Great Heights.
Monday, January 02, 2006
Proving a point...
Welcome to "What Is Recoil?." If you would like to post something on this blog, but don't have a WIR-Blogger login, then send me an e-mail, and I'll make it happen. SHAZAM!
-Rick
(co-creator)
Rick |
Dynamarx |
rus-trick |
ryan |
The Potato |
JDM |
DrNewsie |
Mr. MS |
AK |
Brooke |
Stein |
Moses |
G |
CarrieOkie |
Jen |
Duhn |
M. Moore | Laura |
Mr.T |
kat |
abby | Greg
09/2005 | 10/2005 | 11/2005 | 12/2005 | 01/2006 | 02/2006 | 03/2006 | 04/2006 | 05/2006 | 06/2006 | 07/2006 | 08/2006 | 09/2006 | 10/2006 | 11/2006 | 12/2006 | 01/2007 | 02/2007 | 03/2007 |
My kind roommate let me borrow his Netflix'd copy of Funny Ha Ha last night. I knew little of the film outside of its name, and really had little to no motivation for watching it. I didn't know what it was about-- maybe something about a dinner party, I don't know-- and felt it was, generally speaking, one of those "critically acclaimed" films that I feel I should try to watch sometime, but never do-- like "Schindler's List."But then I read this article on Slate (in Slate?) about the director's next film, Mutual Appreciation, and immediately decided that "Funny Ha Ha" needed to be watched.
I made the right decision.
"Funny Ha Ha" is a film that is greater than the sum of its parts. Even the subject matter, early 20-somethings coming to grips with post-graduate adulthood, couldn't be more cliche for a film shot on 16mm and starring what is essentially the cast of "Slacker." And yet it works. Really works. And I can't tell if its the amazing writing, or amazing acting, or amazing improv (probably all three), but I can't remember a time when I watched a fiction film and was as captivated by the characters as I was in this one. Maybe I can remember-- "Swingers?"
From the spring of 1998 to the spring of 1999 I watched "Swingers" at some points as many as three times a week. It started because I found the movie undeniably hilarious (and still do), but eventually I knew every beat of the jokes and ended up sticking around because it's an easy movie to imagine myself as the characters. Jon Favreau, to his great credit, created individuals who were both what I wanted to become and what I currently was. I imagine the same can be said for other people who were fans of the movie. After all, at the age of 17, nothing strikes a chord more to a heterosexual male than the story of a guy getting over a girl, because most often "a girl is a girl" but in "Swingers" getting over the girl can really be about getting over anything-- school, youth, a girl. There's also the introvert wanting to be the extrovert facet of the film, which is incredibly appealing to someone that doesn't like to talk to strangers. "Swingers" in a weird way, was my gateway to adulthood. Life-drama never really seemed as big a deal after, and maybe that's a sad sentiment and that I've clearly been spending the past 8 years inhabiting some sort of tragic fantasyland, but it has gotten me this far.
Watching "Funny Ha Ha" last night brought all those feelings back, but in a different way. I wasn't projecting myself onto those characters because my lifestyle and theirs, while not being mutually exclusive, aren't really all that similar either. Perhaps what I found most interesting was that, unlike "Swingers," I felt that maybe the characters in "Funny Ha Ha" were how I was suppose to end up. It's the feeling of experiencing the same thing at two completely different points in your life. The plot of "Funny Ha Ha" couldn't be much thinner (which I love), but the basic premise deals with the notion that the post-collegiate-urban-hipster typically finds themselves in one of two camps, 1) employed by a company you are indifferent to and thus spend your non-working hours going from party to party drinking away your boredom or 2) unemployed and thus spend your non-working hours going from party to party drinking away your boredom, and sometimes trying to look for temporary work. Both of these types are also poor communicators, despite most evidence pointing to many communications degrees scattered amongst them. I find myself closer to group #1 than to #2, but I've never been much of a hard-core drinker, and frankly find myself too motivated to be that disillusioned. But I'm watching this movie and looking at these characters in their retro-tees and bedhead and PBR and thinking, "I know that this movie is suppose to make me thankful that I'm not living in a state of post-ironic purgatory, but goddamn if that lifestyle isn't appealing!" Sure, I have a regular job and earn a decent wage, and while going from house-party to house-party might be a sorry existence, it also seems completely acceptable and dare I say necessary.
After all, the characters in "Funny Ha Ha" aren't going to die alone in the gutter. They're going to die alone (or surrounded by family... but definitely dead) in their suburban split-levels or downtown condos because people with a means usually pull it together at some point. Maybe that's why I found the film so pleasant-- there's never any real danger or real drama. The characters in this environment, as in reality, are essentially safe. Sure, there are rocky times, but this isn't Baghdad. Watching this lifestyle portrayed so perfectly on film comes off, at least to this viewer, as relatively optimistic.
0 Comments
Lost
Distraction: a delightful game show.
posted by RICK : 4:53 PM
Before both this season and the previous one, Comedy Central ran myriad ads trying to pump up viewership for their new gameshow "Distraction," and both times I found the show to have an interesting premise, but not a whole lot else. It didn't have the stakes of a "Win Ben Stein's Money" or the grab of a "Beat the Geeks," and the whole Double-Dare-Stunts thing always seems a bit forced.
Well, all of this is true until you actually watch an episode. The show is endlessly fasciniting and exceptionally hillarious. Most notable is the parade of creativity used in each of the shows rounds of questioning. Last night some of the highlights included launching a pie at your face every time you buzz in for an answer, and then in another round having to answer questions while simulataneously adding clothespins to your face. It's not exactly the most highbrow, but damn if it isn't fun to watch.
A personal favorite episode from last season dealth with 4 contestants having to sit in a bathroom stall after drinking a gallon of water. They then had to "buzz-in" to answer trivia questions by being the first to pee. Yes, it sounds absolutley horrifying, but amazingly it comes off as playful.
Bottomline: watch DISTRACTION (Comedy Central - check listings).
0 Comments
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
New Release Tuesday.
Saturday, January 07, 2006
Rollergrrrrls
posted by RICK : 11:12 AM
"Camp and irony have come to the point where we can no longer deem something legitimately awful."
-BAP
At the time of that quote Mr. Flextimer and I were discussing the incredibly ridiculous pop-sensation "My Humps." He stated, justifiably, that it might be the single worst song ever to hit the charts. While I don't totally agree with the sentiment (every era has its radio mysteries-- "Baby Got Back" anyone?), I completely understand his reasoning: irony is out of control.
In the current climate everything is good, because even if it may come off as bad, it can be spun into a "cult sensation" or "guilty pleasure." And while I'm as guilty of this as anyone (yeah, I've downloaded "My Humps" AND listen to it frequently), it is absolutely destroying popular media. No wonder Arrested Development is getting canceled. Why would a network or studio want to shell out dollars for a good writing team when they can simply put a camera in a room full of retarded leprechauns and let the ad money simply roll in?
Being greeted with indifference is perhaps the worst fate for a show. When good is good and bad is good, the only real "bad" is mediocrity, which just might be the death-blow to the legitimately good program Rollergirls (A&E, Mondays @ 10pm est)- a "reality" show about the girls (or is it grrrls?) who compete in the Lone Star Rollergirls league in Austin. I quoted "reality" because this show is produced by the genius team that brought the world "Laguna Beach"-- an almost cinematic reality program on MTV designed to compete with FOX's fictional "The OC." I can't get myself to watch "Laguna." Not because I take issue with it's liberal use of the reality-moniker (after all, we've gone everywhere from The Real World to Survivor to the Joe Schmo Show to K-Street to the West West Wing, and who really gives a fuck if the characters are real or not*) but because I take issue with the show's peddling of a lifestyle where a bunch of rich cunts drive SUVs and paint their nails and complain about boys and their lives and how daddy didn't love them all while throwing rocks at the maid and forcing the immigrant gardener to-- look I've never seen this show. I have no idea what actually happens on it, but it doesn't matter. The IDEA of "Laguna Beach" is enough to make me hate it-- which happens to be draped in layers of irony as a slightly colder version of myself would probably LOVE it. So bad it's good, right? Wrong. The difference being that, in my mind, the target audience is 13-15 year-old girls who aren't going to interpret the show as anything other than "this is the way I'm suppose to live." I find this completely wreckless. Move the show to M2 and play it before "Wonder Shozen" and suddenly we're talking about a different beast altogether. But we aren't.
What makes "Rollergirls" significant is that it does what television is so perfect at-- giving the viewer a look into a lifestyle that is not their own. And in the case of this show, that lifestyle isn't necessarily one about indie-chicks wearing fishnets and beating the living piss out of one another, its about a generation of 20-somethings who aren't graphic designers or rock critics or running internet companies, but are carving out a place for themselves in an America that increasingly seems to think they don't matter. Look, Zach Braff didn't invent the quarter-life-crisis and for some people changing your life might need to be a little more visceral than "New Slang," which is to say that, yes, the fishnets and beating the piss out of one another is a definite plus.
What I responded to while watching the premiere episode on my computer last night was that this is the type of show that has the capability of attracting a demographic desperately in need of mainstream validation. Those people being the heartland's media elite. Digital cable, the internet and Netflix have made it possible for anyone not living in New York or Los Angeles to be as media savvy as their pretentious coast-dwelling kin. "Rollergirls" is a purple-state show if ever there was one. It takes place in the heart of Texas, though that heart happens to be Austin (the oasis). Also, the characters are predominantly middle-to-lower class-- a group that has been severely under-served across the television spectrum since the cancellation of Roseanne. Of course, this isn't the case for all of them. One girl, Venis Envy, who was the focus of this first episode was a former art-student who decided to buy a camper with her hipster boyfriend and travel the country living nomad life. This sounds like hipster chic, until you realize living out of a van is, generally speaking, not the American dream, but maybe for some-- actually I kind of hope it is.
Most refreshing, though, is Rollergirls' blatant sexuality that is everpresent, but never comes off as forced. The creators do an great job of presenting the girls as matter-of-fact as possible. I mean, let's not kid ourselves here, the underlying principles in Roller Derby are the marketing of sex and violence as entertainment, and perhaps that's exactly why it seems to work so well. This isn't WWE. The girls aren't silicone filled body-builders. They are, simply put, incredibly regular-- only tattooed, wearing little and kicking ass. It's post-feminist, but what's better is that its solidly representational of people living in the mid-United States. Also, a Hilton sister is nowhere to be found.
It should probably be noted that the last reality show I watched all the way through was The Real World #10 (back in New York), and even then the only reason I could justify watching was that I found myself stuck in front of a television running a marathon once and figured, what the hell. Perhaps this explains why I find the show so fantastic. Maybe "Rollergirls" is a reality show for people who patently hate reality shows. Unsurprisingly, more than one critic finds it bottom-rung, but I would argue that they simply don't know the audience.
Which brings things back to the original problem. If "Rollergirls" fails it will be because it isn't all that groundbreaking in the tradition "its not TV" sort of way and will hardly garner any sort of acclaim (this isn't the Amazing Fucking Race, now is it?), and yet it isn't the campy mess some were probably hoping for, making the series a perfect supplement to a 40 and pot-brownies. "Rollergirls" should not be missed, despite these shortcomings. Real or not, its representational of America, and not the guilty-pleasure part of America... the part that is just pleasure. Pleasure, and life.
NOTE: I feel like this subject matter also lends itself to the subject of co-opting indie-culture. Or the notion of indie-culture for the masses, and how utterly ridiculous that phrase is, but I've written too much. Perhaps another day.
*Interesting sidebar: I'm kind of fascinated by what level or realism people want out of their media. Most dramas score points for being as true-to-life they can possibly be. A show labeled as "gritty" is suppose to be "real" which then theoretically makes it "good." And yet, no one apparently wants to watch a comedy that is real, because it makes them uncomfortable (which is why, I suppose, The Office, can't hold onto Earl's numbers-- a show that is exceptionally unreal). What's even more peculiar is that the "Reality" programming that people respond to are all based on premises that border on the surreal. I mean, there's a "Reality Show" whose name is "The Surreal Life" and if anyone can explain that to me, I'll ship you your weight in aged cheese. The Real World has never really been about (save for the first 2.3 seasons) BEING REAL. Reality rarely comes with a furnished loft and the ability NOT to work. In fact, one of my favorite seasons, New Orleans (8), actually had a character who was rarely in the show because he went out and got a job.
This seems to carry itself over to movies as well, but more in terms of what audiences are suppose to be scared of:
If Chloe Sevigny gives Vincent Gallo a tragic blowjob, "The Brown Bunny" gets released UNRATED or suffers from the dreadful NC-17 box-office killer, and yet Hollywood can go mad-crazy for the burgeoning torchure porn genre of horror filmmaking and no one thinks twice about it.
0 Comments
Friday, January 06, 2006
Meeting Dr. Pepper
posted by RICK : 7:00 PM
While in Omaha I was planning on shooting a few scenes from a movie I've been working on for what seems like all eternity, but schedules became tight and when push came to shove I just couldn't justify making myself and my friends stay up all night roaming the frozen streets of west Omaha until the sun shows its ugly head. So instead my sister and I put together a short based on the world's greatest scientist (and on an old recoil piece). It's not high art, but it is mildly entertaining.
Apologies ahead of time for the shoddy production values, but c'mon, this is comedy not Brokeback Mountain.
Dr_Pepper.mp4 [10.4mb]
0 Comments
Wednesday, January 04, 2006
The first forgettable record of 2006.
posted by RICK : 4:55 PM
Like the rest of America that is still hopelessly clinging onto the early aughts, yesterday I picked up First Impressions of Earth" by one-time supergroup The Strokes. I'm not going to say I was excited for its release, as I wasn't, but I was hoping that it would be a pleasant gem in an otherwise cold, unforgiving winter. I've had the record for about 24 hours as of this writing and have yet to get all the way through it (mostly because of time constraints and my lack of iPod), but that being said what I've heard couldn't be more boring-- or at the very least-- couldn't descend into complacency quicker. The first two tracks are exactly what I was hoping for, but then it just turns into the jangle-jangle-whine-whine formula that they never really had in the past, but always hinted at.
The very first time I heard The Stokes was on Halloween night in 2001, when I bought myself tickets to their first NYC show after the record ("Is This It?") was released. That show kicked ass. I wasn't even sure if this was a band I liked or not. All I could tell was that the crowd was going nuts, and I wasn't certain if I'd make it off the Hammerstein floor alive. Perhaps more interestingly, I didn't know at the time that this was suppose to be the Jesus Christ of rock and roll that was going to come down from the heavens and save us from a world of ultra-produced boy-bands and rap-metal. Now, I see that in order to have fulfilled the prophecy they had to eventually die. At the time I was never of the opinion, unlike many, that this band WAS the end-all, and by the time I actually got their record and decided "hey, these kids are good," the moment had already passed and the Hipster-Pontious-Pilot had called for their heads.
When the dust settles, I'm sure I'll look back (perhaps like I did with Weezer's "Make Believe") and declare "First Impressions of Earth" to be a decent record. Hell, it may even start climbing in playcount years from now when I go through my library and think, "Oh yeah, this band was awesome once!" Unfortunately, until that moment comes I'm stuck with a boring record from a band that is no longer relevent in the ever expanding family tree of rock and roll.
In other sad music news...
It has been reported that pianist/pop-freak Nellie McKay has been dropped by Columbia Records. Apparently, she wanted to release her next album (originally due this coming Tuesday) with 23 songs, and they wanted to release it with 16-songs. Why, in the age of digital music this is even an issue is absolutely beyond me, but apparently she was trying to get out of the label anyway.
Her best quote on the situation:"It ain’t no use to sit and wonder why. They kept the coffee pot, I got the dog.” She added, “All that matters to me is that I can continue to make irritating music which will baffle and enrage."
-AP
I hope the record still comes out.
0 Comments
Tuesday, January 03, 2006
Such Great Heights.
Monday, January 02, 2006
Proving a point...
Welcome to "What Is Recoil?." If you would like to post something on this blog, but don't have a WIR-Blogger login, then send me an e-mail, and I'll make it happen. SHAZAM!
-Rick
(co-creator)
Rick |
Dynamarx |
rus-trick |
ryan |
The Potato |
JDM |
DrNewsie |
Mr. MS |
AK |
Brooke |
Stein |
Moses |
G |
CarrieOkie |
Jen |
Duhn |
M. Moore | Laura |
Mr.T |
kat |
abby | Greg
09/2005 | 10/2005 | 11/2005 | 12/2005 | 01/2006 | 02/2006 | 03/2006 | 04/2006 | 05/2006 | 06/2006 | 07/2006 | 08/2006 | 09/2006 | 10/2006 | 11/2006 | 12/2006 | 01/2007 | 02/2007 | 03/2007 |
Distraction: a delightful game show.
posted by RICK : 4:53 PM
Before both this season and the previous one, Comedy Central ran myriad ads trying to pump up viewership for their new gameshow "Distraction," and both times I found the show to have an interesting premise, but not a whole lot else. It didn't have the stakes of a "Win Ben Stein's Money" or the grab of a "Beat the Geeks," and the whole Double-Dare-Stunts thing always seems a bit forced.
Well, all of this is true until you actually watch an episode. The show is endlessly fasciniting and exceptionally hillarious. Most notable is the parade of creativity used in each of the shows rounds of questioning. Last night some of the highlights included launching a pie at your face every time you buzz in for an answer, and then in another round having to answer questions while simulataneously adding clothespins to your face. It's not exactly the most highbrow, but damn if it isn't fun to watch.
A personal favorite episode from last season dealth with 4 contestants having to sit in a bathroom stall after drinking a gallon of water. They then had to "buzz-in" to answer trivia questions by being the first to pee. Yes, it sounds absolutley horrifying, but amazingly it comes off as playful.
Bottomline: watch DISTRACTION (Comedy Central - check listings).
0 Comments
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
New Release Tuesday.
Saturday, January 07, 2006
Rollergrrrrls
posted by RICK : 11:12 AM
"Camp and irony have come to the point where we can no longer deem something legitimately awful."
-BAP
At the time of that quote Mr. Flextimer and I were discussing the incredibly ridiculous pop-sensation "My Humps." He stated, justifiably, that it might be the single worst song ever to hit the charts. While I don't totally agree with the sentiment (every era has its radio mysteries-- "Baby Got Back" anyone?), I completely understand his reasoning: irony is out of control.
In the current climate everything is good, because even if it may come off as bad, it can be spun into a "cult sensation" or "guilty pleasure." And while I'm as guilty of this as anyone (yeah, I've downloaded "My Humps" AND listen to it frequently), it is absolutely destroying popular media. No wonder Arrested Development is getting canceled. Why would a network or studio want to shell out dollars for a good writing team when they can simply put a camera in a room full of retarded leprechauns and let the ad money simply roll in?
Being greeted with indifference is perhaps the worst fate for a show. When good is good and bad is good, the only real "bad" is mediocrity, which just might be the death-blow to the legitimately good program Rollergirls (A&E, Mondays @ 10pm est)- a "reality" show about the girls (or is it grrrls?) who compete in the Lone Star Rollergirls league in Austin. I quoted "reality" because this show is produced by the genius team that brought the world "Laguna Beach"-- an almost cinematic reality program on MTV designed to compete with FOX's fictional "The OC." I can't get myself to watch "Laguna." Not because I take issue with it's liberal use of the reality-moniker (after all, we've gone everywhere from The Real World to Survivor to the Joe Schmo Show to K-Street to the West West Wing, and who really gives a fuck if the characters are real or not*) but because I take issue with the show's peddling of a lifestyle where a bunch of rich cunts drive SUVs and paint their nails and complain about boys and their lives and how daddy didn't love them all while throwing rocks at the maid and forcing the immigrant gardener to-- look I've never seen this show. I have no idea what actually happens on it, but it doesn't matter. The IDEA of "Laguna Beach" is enough to make me hate it-- which happens to be draped in layers of irony as a slightly colder version of myself would probably LOVE it. So bad it's good, right? Wrong. The difference being that, in my mind, the target audience is 13-15 year-old girls who aren't going to interpret the show as anything other than "this is the way I'm suppose to live." I find this completely wreckless. Move the show to M2 and play it before "Wonder Shozen" and suddenly we're talking about a different beast altogether. But we aren't.
What makes "Rollergirls" significant is that it does what television is so perfect at-- giving the viewer a look into a lifestyle that is not their own. And in the case of this show, that lifestyle isn't necessarily one about indie-chicks wearing fishnets and beating the living piss out of one another, its about a generation of 20-somethings who aren't graphic designers or rock critics or running internet companies, but are carving out a place for themselves in an America that increasingly seems to think they don't matter. Look, Zach Braff didn't invent the quarter-life-crisis and for some people changing your life might need to be a little more visceral than "New Slang," which is to say that, yes, the fishnets and beating the piss out of one another is a definite plus.
What I responded to while watching the premiere episode on my computer last night was that this is the type of show that has the capability of attracting a demographic desperately in need of mainstream validation. Those people being the heartland's media elite. Digital cable, the internet and Netflix have made it possible for anyone not living in New York or Los Angeles to be as media savvy as their pretentious coast-dwelling kin. "Rollergirls" is a purple-state show if ever there was one. It takes place in the heart of Texas, though that heart happens to be Austin (the oasis). Also, the characters are predominantly middle-to-lower class-- a group that has been severely under-served across the television spectrum since the cancellation of Roseanne. Of course, this isn't the case for all of them. One girl, Venis Envy, who was the focus of this first episode was a former art-student who decided to buy a camper with her hipster boyfriend and travel the country living nomad life. This sounds like hipster chic, until you realize living out of a van is, generally speaking, not the American dream, but maybe for some-- actually I kind of hope it is.
Most refreshing, though, is Rollergirls' blatant sexuality that is everpresent, but never comes off as forced. The creators do an great job of presenting the girls as matter-of-fact as possible. I mean, let's not kid ourselves here, the underlying principles in Roller Derby are the marketing of sex and violence as entertainment, and perhaps that's exactly why it seems to work so well. This isn't WWE. The girls aren't silicone filled body-builders. They are, simply put, incredibly regular-- only tattooed, wearing little and kicking ass. It's post-feminist, but what's better is that its solidly representational of people living in the mid-United States. Also, a Hilton sister is nowhere to be found.
It should probably be noted that the last reality show I watched all the way through was The Real World #10 (back in New York), and even then the only reason I could justify watching was that I found myself stuck in front of a television running a marathon once and figured, what the hell. Perhaps this explains why I find the show so fantastic. Maybe "Rollergirls" is a reality show for people who patently hate reality shows. Unsurprisingly, more than one critic finds it bottom-rung, but I would argue that they simply don't know the audience.
Which brings things back to the original problem. If "Rollergirls" fails it will be because it isn't all that groundbreaking in the tradition "its not TV" sort of way and will hardly garner any sort of acclaim (this isn't the Amazing Fucking Race, now is it?), and yet it isn't the campy mess some were probably hoping for, making the series a perfect supplement to a 40 and pot-brownies. "Rollergirls" should not be missed, despite these shortcomings. Real or not, its representational of America, and not the guilty-pleasure part of America... the part that is just pleasure. Pleasure, and life.
NOTE: I feel like this subject matter also lends itself to the subject of co-opting indie-culture. Or the notion of indie-culture for the masses, and how utterly ridiculous that phrase is, but I've written too much. Perhaps another day.
*Interesting sidebar: I'm kind of fascinated by what level or realism people want out of their media. Most dramas score points for being as true-to-life they can possibly be. A show labeled as "gritty" is suppose to be "real" which then theoretically makes it "good." And yet, no one apparently wants to watch a comedy that is real, because it makes them uncomfortable (which is why, I suppose, The Office, can't hold onto Earl's numbers-- a show that is exceptionally unreal). What's even more peculiar is that the "Reality" programming that people respond to are all based on premises that border on the surreal. I mean, there's a "Reality Show" whose name is "The Surreal Life" and if anyone can explain that to me, I'll ship you your weight in aged cheese. The Real World has never really been about (save for the first 2.3 seasons) BEING REAL. Reality rarely comes with a furnished loft and the ability NOT to work. In fact, one of my favorite seasons, New Orleans (8), actually had a character who was rarely in the show because he went out and got a job.
This seems to carry itself over to movies as well, but more in terms of what audiences are suppose to be scared of:
If Chloe Sevigny gives Vincent Gallo a tragic blowjob, "The Brown Bunny" gets released UNRATED or suffers from the dreadful NC-17 box-office killer, and yet Hollywood can go mad-crazy for the burgeoning torchure porn genre of horror filmmaking and no one thinks twice about it.
0 Comments
Friday, January 06, 2006
Meeting Dr. Pepper
posted by RICK : 7:00 PM
While in Omaha I was planning on shooting a few scenes from a movie I've been working on for what seems like all eternity, but schedules became tight and when push came to shove I just couldn't justify making myself and my friends stay up all night roaming the frozen streets of west Omaha until the sun shows its ugly head. So instead my sister and I put together a short based on the world's greatest scientist (and on an old recoil piece). It's not high art, but it is mildly entertaining.
Apologies ahead of time for the shoddy production values, but c'mon, this is comedy not Brokeback Mountain.
Dr_Pepper.mp4 [10.4mb]
0 Comments
Wednesday, January 04, 2006
The first forgettable record of 2006.
posted by RICK : 4:55 PM
Like the rest of America that is still hopelessly clinging onto the early aughts, yesterday I picked up First Impressions of Earth" by one-time supergroup The Strokes. I'm not going to say I was excited for its release, as I wasn't, but I was hoping that it would be a pleasant gem in an otherwise cold, unforgiving winter. I've had the record for about 24 hours as of this writing and have yet to get all the way through it (mostly because of time constraints and my lack of iPod), but that being said what I've heard couldn't be more boring-- or at the very least-- couldn't descend into complacency quicker. The first two tracks are exactly what I was hoping for, but then it just turns into the jangle-jangle-whine-whine formula that they never really had in the past, but always hinted at.
The very first time I heard The Stokes was on Halloween night in 2001, when I bought myself tickets to their first NYC show after the record ("Is This It?") was released. That show kicked ass. I wasn't even sure if this was a band I liked or not. All I could tell was that the crowd was going nuts, and I wasn't certain if I'd make it off the Hammerstein floor alive. Perhaps more interestingly, I didn't know at the time that this was suppose to be the Jesus Christ of rock and roll that was going to come down from the heavens and save us from a world of ultra-produced boy-bands and rap-metal. Now, I see that in order to have fulfilled the prophecy they had to eventually die. At the time I was never of the opinion, unlike many, that this band WAS the end-all, and by the time I actually got their record and decided "hey, these kids are good," the moment had already passed and the Hipster-Pontious-Pilot had called for their heads.
When the dust settles, I'm sure I'll look back (perhaps like I did with Weezer's "Make Believe") and declare "First Impressions of Earth" to be a decent record. Hell, it may even start climbing in playcount years from now when I go through my library and think, "Oh yeah, this band was awesome once!" Unfortunately, until that moment comes I'm stuck with a boring record from a band that is no longer relevent in the ever expanding family tree of rock and roll.
In other sad music news...
It has been reported that pianist/pop-freak Nellie McKay has been dropped by Columbia Records. Apparently, she wanted to release her next album (originally due this coming Tuesday) with 23 songs, and they wanted to release it with 16-songs. Why, in the age of digital music this is even an issue is absolutely beyond me, but apparently she was trying to get out of the label anyway.
Her best quote on the situation:"It ain’t no use to sit and wonder why. They kept the coffee pot, I got the dog.” She added, “All that matters to me is that I can continue to make irritating music which will baffle and enrage."
-AP
I hope the record still comes out.
0 Comments
Tuesday, January 03, 2006
Such Great Heights.
Monday, January 02, 2006
Proving a point...
Welcome to "What Is Recoil?." If you would like to post something on this blog, but don't have a WIR-Blogger login, then send me an e-mail, and I'll make it happen. SHAZAM!
-Rick
(co-creator)
Rick |
Dynamarx |
rus-trick |
ryan |
The Potato |
JDM |
DrNewsie |
Mr. MS |
AK |
Brooke |
Stein |
Moses |
G |
CarrieOkie |
Jen |
Duhn |
M. Moore | Laura |
Mr.T |
kat |
abby | Greg
09/2005 | 10/2005 | 11/2005 | 12/2005 | 01/2006 | 02/2006 | 03/2006 | 04/2006 | 05/2006 | 06/2006 | 07/2006 | 08/2006 | 09/2006 | 10/2006 | 11/2006 | 12/2006 | 01/2007 | 02/2007 | 03/2007 |
Before both this season and the previous one, Comedy Central ran myriad ads trying to pump up viewership for their new gameshow "Distraction," and both times I found the show to have an interesting premise, but not a whole lot else. It didn't have the stakes of a "Win Ben Stein's Money" or the grab of a "Beat the Geeks," and the whole Double-Dare-Stunts thing always seems a bit forced.Well, all of this is true until you actually watch an episode. The show is endlessly fasciniting and exceptionally hillarious. Most notable is the parade of creativity used in each of the shows rounds of questioning. Last night some of the highlights included launching a pie at your face every time you buzz in for an answer, and then in another round having to answer questions while simulataneously adding clothespins to your face. It's not exactly the most highbrow, but damn if it isn't fun to watch.
A personal favorite episode from last season dealth with 4 contestants having to sit in a bathroom stall after drinking a gallon of water. They then had to "buzz-in" to answer trivia questions by being the first to pee. Yes, it sounds absolutley horrifying, but amazingly it comes off as playful.
Bottomline: watch DISTRACTION (Comedy Central - check listings).
0 Comments
New Release Tuesday.
Saturday, January 07, 2006
Rollergrrrrls
posted by RICK : 11:12 AM
"Camp and irony have come to the point where we can no longer deem something legitimately awful."
-BAP
At the time of that quote Mr. Flextimer and I were discussing the incredibly ridiculous pop-sensation "My Humps." He stated, justifiably, that it might be the single worst song ever to hit the charts. While I don't totally agree with the sentiment (every era has its radio mysteries-- "Baby Got Back" anyone?), I completely understand his reasoning: irony is out of control.
In the current climate everything is good, because even if it may come off as bad, it can be spun into a "cult sensation" or "guilty pleasure." And while I'm as guilty of this as anyone (yeah, I've downloaded "My Humps" AND listen to it frequently), it is absolutely destroying popular media. No wonder Arrested Development is getting canceled. Why would a network or studio want to shell out dollars for a good writing team when they can simply put a camera in a room full of retarded leprechauns and let the ad money simply roll in?
Being greeted with indifference is perhaps the worst fate for a show. When good is good and bad is good, the only real "bad" is mediocrity, which just might be the death-blow to the legitimately good program Rollergirls (A&E, Mondays @ 10pm est)- a "reality" show about the girls (or is it grrrls?) who compete in the Lone Star Rollergirls league in Austin. I quoted "reality" because this show is produced by the genius team that brought the world "Laguna Beach"-- an almost cinematic reality program on MTV designed to compete with FOX's fictional "The OC." I can't get myself to watch "Laguna." Not because I take issue with it's liberal use of the reality-moniker (after all, we've gone everywhere from The Real World to Survivor to the Joe Schmo Show to K-Street to the West West Wing, and who really gives a fuck if the characters are real or not*) but because I take issue with the show's peddling of a lifestyle where a bunch of rich cunts drive SUVs and paint their nails and complain about boys and their lives and how daddy didn't love them all while throwing rocks at the maid and forcing the immigrant gardener to-- look I've never seen this show. I have no idea what actually happens on it, but it doesn't matter. The IDEA of "Laguna Beach" is enough to make me hate it-- which happens to be draped in layers of irony as a slightly colder version of myself would probably LOVE it. So bad it's good, right? Wrong. The difference being that, in my mind, the target audience is 13-15 year-old girls who aren't going to interpret the show as anything other than "this is the way I'm suppose to live." I find this completely wreckless. Move the show to M2 and play it before "Wonder Shozen" and suddenly we're talking about a different beast altogether. But we aren't.
What makes "Rollergirls" significant is that it does what television is so perfect at-- giving the viewer a look into a lifestyle that is not their own. And in the case of this show, that lifestyle isn't necessarily one about indie-chicks wearing fishnets and beating the living piss out of one another, its about a generation of 20-somethings who aren't graphic designers or rock critics or running internet companies, but are carving out a place for themselves in an America that increasingly seems to think they don't matter. Look, Zach Braff didn't invent the quarter-life-crisis and for some people changing your life might need to be a little more visceral than "New Slang," which is to say that, yes, the fishnets and beating the piss out of one another is a definite plus.
What I responded to while watching the premiere episode on my computer last night was that this is the type of show that has the capability of attracting a demographic desperately in need of mainstream validation. Those people being the heartland's media elite. Digital cable, the internet and Netflix have made it possible for anyone not living in New York or Los Angeles to be as media savvy as their pretentious coast-dwelling kin. "Rollergirls" is a purple-state show if ever there was one. It takes place in the heart of Texas, though that heart happens to be Austin (the oasis). Also, the characters are predominantly middle-to-lower class-- a group that has been severely under-served across the television spectrum since the cancellation of Roseanne. Of course, this isn't the case for all of them. One girl, Venis Envy, who was the focus of this first episode was a former art-student who decided to buy a camper with her hipster boyfriend and travel the country living nomad life. This sounds like hipster chic, until you realize living out of a van is, generally speaking, not the American dream, but maybe for some-- actually I kind of hope it is.
Most refreshing, though, is Rollergirls' blatant sexuality that is everpresent, but never comes off as forced. The creators do an great job of presenting the girls as matter-of-fact as possible. I mean, let's not kid ourselves here, the underlying principles in Roller Derby are the marketing of sex and violence as entertainment, and perhaps that's exactly why it seems to work so well. This isn't WWE. The girls aren't silicone filled body-builders. They are, simply put, incredibly regular-- only tattooed, wearing little and kicking ass. It's post-feminist, but what's better is that its solidly representational of people living in the mid-United States. Also, a Hilton sister is nowhere to be found.
It should probably be noted that the last reality show I watched all the way through was The Real World #10 (back in New York), and even then the only reason I could justify watching was that I found myself stuck in front of a television running a marathon once and figured, what the hell. Perhaps this explains why I find the show so fantastic. Maybe "Rollergirls" is a reality show for people who patently hate reality shows. Unsurprisingly, more than one critic finds it bottom-rung, but I would argue that they simply don't know the audience.
Which brings things back to the original problem. If "Rollergirls" fails it will be because it isn't all that groundbreaking in the tradition "its not TV" sort of way and will hardly garner any sort of acclaim (this isn't the Amazing Fucking Race, now is it?), and yet it isn't the campy mess some were probably hoping for, making the series a perfect supplement to a 40 and pot-brownies. "Rollergirls" should not be missed, despite these shortcomings. Real or not, its representational of America, and not the guilty-pleasure part of America... the part that is just pleasure. Pleasure, and life.
NOTE: I feel like this subject matter also lends itself to the subject of co-opting indie-culture. Or the notion of indie-culture for the masses, and how utterly ridiculous that phrase is, but I've written too much. Perhaps another day.
*Interesting sidebar: I'm kind of fascinated by what level or realism people want out of their media. Most dramas score points for being as true-to-life they can possibly be. A show labeled as "gritty" is suppose to be "real" which then theoretically makes it "good." And yet, no one apparently wants to watch a comedy that is real, because it makes them uncomfortable (which is why, I suppose, The Office, can't hold onto Earl's numbers-- a show that is exceptionally unreal). What's even more peculiar is that the "Reality" programming that people respond to are all based on premises that border on the surreal. I mean, there's a "Reality Show" whose name is "The Surreal Life" and if anyone can explain that to me, I'll ship you your weight in aged cheese. The Real World has never really been about (save for the first 2.3 seasons) BEING REAL. Reality rarely comes with a furnished loft and the ability NOT to work. In fact, one of my favorite seasons, New Orleans (8), actually had a character who was rarely in the show because he went out and got a job.
This seems to carry itself over to movies as well, but more in terms of what audiences are suppose to be scared of:
If Chloe Sevigny gives Vincent Gallo a tragic blowjob, "The Brown Bunny" gets released UNRATED or suffers from the dreadful NC-17 box-office killer, and yet Hollywood can go mad-crazy for the burgeoning torchure porn genre of horror filmmaking and no one thinks twice about it.
0 Comments
Friday, January 06, 2006
Meeting Dr. Pepper
posted by RICK : 7:00 PM
While in Omaha I was planning on shooting a few scenes from a movie I've been working on for what seems like all eternity, but schedules became tight and when push came to shove I just couldn't justify making myself and my friends stay up all night roaming the frozen streets of west Omaha until the sun shows its ugly head. So instead my sister and I put together a short based on the world's greatest scientist (and on an old recoil piece). It's not high art, but it is mildly entertaining.
Apologies ahead of time for the shoddy production values, but c'mon, this is comedy not Brokeback Mountain.
Dr_Pepper.mp4 [10.4mb]
0 Comments
Wednesday, January 04, 2006
The first forgettable record of 2006.
posted by RICK : 4:55 PM
Like the rest of America that is still hopelessly clinging onto the early aughts, yesterday I picked up First Impressions of Earth" by one-time supergroup The Strokes. I'm not going to say I was excited for its release, as I wasn't, but I was hoping that it would be a pleasant gem in an otherwise cold, unforgiving winter. I've had the record for about 24 hours as of this writing and have yet to get all the way through it (mostly because of time constraints and my lack of iPod), but that being said what I've heard couldn't be more boring-- or at the very least-- couldn't descend into complacency quicker. The first two tracks are exactly what I was hoping for, but then it just turns into the jangle-jangle-whine-whine formula that they never really had in the past, but always hinted at.
The very first time I heard The Stokes was on Halloween night in 2001, when I bought myself tickets to their first NYC show after the record ("Is This It?") was released. That show kicked ass. I wasn't even sure if this was a band I liked or not. All I could tell was that the crowd was going nuts, and I wasn't certain if I'd make it off the Hammerstein floor alive. Perhaps more interestingly, I didn't know at the time that this was suppose to be the Jesus Christ of rock and roll that was going to come down from the heavens and save us from a world of ultra-produced boy-bands and rap-metal. Now, I see that in order to have fulfilled the prophecy they had to eventually die. At the time I was never of the opinion, unlike many, that this band WAS the end-all, and by the time I actually got their record and decided "hey, these kids are good," the moment had already passed and the Hipster-Pontious-Pilot had called for their heads.
When the dust settles, I'm sure I'll look back (perhaps like I did with Weezer's "Make Believe") and declare "First Impressions of Earth" to be a decent record. Hell, it may even start climbing in playcount years from now when I go through my library and think, "Oh yeah, this band was awesome once!" Unfortunately, until that moment comes I'm stuck with a boring record from a band that is no longer relevent in the ever expanding family tree of rock and roll.
In other sad music news...
It has been reported that pianist/pop-freak Nellie McKay has been dropped by Columbia Records. Apparently, she wanted to release her next album (originally due this coming Tuesday) with 23 songs, and they wanted to release it with 16-songs. Why, in the age of digital music this is even an issue is absolutely beyond me, but apparently she was trying to get out of the label anyway.
Her best quote on the situation:"It ain’t no use to sit and wonder why. They kept the coffee pot, I got the dog.” She added, “All that matters to me is that I can continue to make irritating music which will baffle and enrage."
-AP
I hope the record still comes out.
0 Comments
Tuesday, January 03, 2006
Such Great Heights.
Monday, January 02, 2006
Proving a point...
Welcome to "What Is Recoil?." If you would like to post something on this blog, but don't have a WIR-Blogger login, then send me an e-mail, and I'll make it happen. SHAZAM!
-Rick
(co-creator)
Rick |
Dynamarx |
rus-trick |
ryan |
The Potato |
JDM |
DrNewsie |
Mr. MS |
AK |
Brooke |
Stein |
Moses |
G |
CarrieOkie |
Jen |
Duhn |
M. Moore | Laura |
Mr.T |
kat |
abby | Greg
09/2005 | 10/2005 | 11/2005 | 12/2005 | 01/2006 | 02/2006 | 03/2006 | 04/2006 | 05/2006 | 06/2006 | 07/2006 | 08/2006 | 09/2006 | 10/2006 | 11/2006 | 12/2006 | 01/2007 | 02/2007 | 03/2007 |
Rollergrrrrls
posted by RICK : 11:12 AM
"Camp and irony have come to the point where we can no longer deem something legitimately awful."
-BAP
At the time of that quote Mr. Flextimer and I were discussing the incredibly ridiculous pop-sensation "My Humps." He stated, justifiably, that it might be the single worst song ever to hit the charts. While I don't totally agree with the sentiment (every era has its radio mysteries-- "Baby Got Back" anyone?), I completely understand his reasoning: irony is out of control.
In the current climate everything is good, because even if it may come off as bad, it can be spun into a "cult sensation" or "guilty pleasure." And while I'm as guilty of this as anyone (yeah, I've downloaded "My Humps" AND listen to it frequently), it is absolutely destroying popular media. No wonder Arrested Development is getting canceled. Why would a network or studio want to shell out dollars for a good writing team when they can simply put a camera in a room full of retarded leprechauns and let the ad money simply roll in?
Being greeted with indifference is perhaps the worst fate for a show. When good is good and bad is good, the only real "bad" is mediocrity, which just might be the death-blow to the legitimately good program Rollergirls (A&E, Mondays @ 10pm est)- a "reality" show about the girls (or is it grrrls?) who compete in the Lone Star Rollergirls league in Austin. I quoted "reality" because this show is produced by the genius team that brought the world "Laguna Beach"-- an almost cinematic reality program on MTV designed to compete with FOX's fictional "The OC." I can't get myself to watch "Laguna." Not because I take issue with it's liberal use of the reality-moniker (after all, we've gone everywhere from The Real World to Survivor to the Joe Schmo Show to K-Street to the West West Wing, and who really gives a fuck if the characters are real or not*) but because I take issue with the show's peddling of a lifestyle where a bunch of rich cunts drive SUVs and paint their nails and complain about boys and their lives and how daddy didn't love them all while throwing rocks at the maid and forcing the immigrant gardener to-- look I've never seen this show. I have no idea what actually happens on it, but it doesn't matter. The IDEA of "Laguna Beach" is enough to make me hate it-- which happens to be draped in layers of irony as a slightly colder version of myself would probably LOVE it. So bad it's good, right? Wrong. The difference being that, in my mind, the target audience is 13-15 year-old girls who aren't going to interpret the show as anything other than "this is the way I'm suppose to live." I find this completely wreckless. Move the show to M2 and play it before "Wonder Shozen" and suddenly we're talking about a different beast altogether. But we aren't.
What makes "Rollergirls" significant is that it does what television is so perfect at-- giving the viewer a look into a lifestyle that is not their own. And in the case of this show, that lifestyle isn't necessarily one about indie-chicks wearing fishnets and beating the living piss out of one another, its about a generation of 20-somethings who aren't graphic designers or rock critics or running internet companies, but are carving out a place for themselves in an America that increasingly seems to think they don't matter. Look, Zach Braff didn't invent the quarter-life-crisis and for some people changing your life might need to be a little more visceral than "New Slang," which is to say that, yes, the fishnets and beating the piss out of one another is a definite plus.
What I responded to while watching the premiere episode on my computer last night was that this is the type of show that has the capability of attracting a demographic desperately in need of mainstream validation. Those people being the heartland's media elite. Digital cable, the internet and Netflix have made it possible for anyone not living in New York or Los Angeles to be as media savvy as their pretentious coast-dwelling kin. "Rollergirls" is a purple-state show if ever there was one. It takes place in the heart of Texas, though that heart happens to be Austin (the oasis). Also, the characters are predominantly middle-to-lower class-- a group that has been severely under-served across the television spectrum since the cancellation of Roseanne. Of course, this isn't the case for all of them. One girl, Venis Envy, who was the focus of this first episode was a former art-student who decided to buy a camper with her hipster boyfriend and travel the country living nomad life. This sounds like hipster chic, until you realize living out of a van is, generally speaking, not the American dream, but maybe for some-- actually I kind of hope it is.
Most refreshing, though, is Rollergirls' blatant sexuality that is everpresent, but never comes off as forced. The creators do an great job of presenting the girls as matter-of-fact as possible. I mean, let's not kid ourselves here, the underlying principles in Roller Derby are the marketing of sex and violence as entertainment, and perhaps that's exactly why it seems to work so well. This isn't WWE. The girls aren't silicone filled body-builders. They are, simply put, incredibly regular-- only tattooed, wearing little and kicking ass. It's post-feminist, but what's better is that its solidly representational of people living in the mid-United States. Also, a Hilton sister is nowhere to be found.
It should probably be noted that the last reality show I watched all the way through was The Real World #10 (back in New York), and even then the only reason I could justify watching was that I found myself stuck in front of a television running a marathon once and figured, what the hell. Perhaps this explains why I find the show so fantastic. Maybe "Rollergirls" is a reality show for people who patently hate reality shows. Unsurprisingly, more than one critic finds it bottom-rung, but I would argue that they simply don't know the audience.
Which brings things back to the original problem. If "Rollergirls" fails it will be because it isn't all that groundbreaking in the tradition "its not TV" sort of way and will hardly garner any sort of acclaim (this isn't the Amazing Fucking Race, now is it?), and yet it isn't the campy mess some were probably hoping for, making the series a perfect supplement to a 40 and pot-brownies. "Rollergirls" should not be missed, despite these shortcomings. Real or not, its representational of America, and not the guilty-pleasure part of America... the part that is just pleasure. Pleasure, and life.
NOTE: I feel like this subject matter also lends itself to the subject of co-opting indie-culture. Or the notion of indie-culture for the masses, and how utterly ridiculous that phrase is, but I've written too much. Perhaps another day.
*Interesting sidebar: I'm kind of fascinated by what level or realism people want out of their media. Most dramas score points for being as true-to-life they can possibly be. A show labeled as "gritty" is suppose to be "real" which then theoretically makes it "good." And yet, no one apparently wants to watch a comedy that is real, because it makes them uncomfortable (which is why, I suppose, The Office, can't hold onto Earl's numbers-- a show that is exceptionally unreal). What's even more peculiar is that the "Reality" programming that people respond to are all based on premises that border on the surreal. I mean, there's a "Reality Show" whose name is "The Surreal Life" and if anyone can explain that to me, I'll ship you your weight in aged cheese. The Real World has never really been about (save for the first 2.3 seasons) BEING REAL. Reality rarely comes with a furnished loft and the ability NOT to work. In fact, one of my favorite seasons, New Orleans (8), actually had a character who was rarely in the show because he went out and got a job.
This seems to carry itself over to movies as well, but more in terms of what audiences are suppose to be scared of:
If Chloe Sevigny gives Vincent Gallo a tragic blowjob, "The Brown Bunny" gets released UNRATED or suffers from the dreadful NC-17 box-office killer, and yet Hollywood can go mad-crazy for the burgeoning torchure porn genre of horror filmmaking and no one thinks twice about it.
0 Comments
Friday, January 06, 2006
Meeting Dr. Pepper
posted by RICK : 7:00 PM
While in Omaha I was planning on shooting a few scenes from a movie I've been working on for what seems like all eternity, but schedules became tight and when push came to shove I just couldn't justify making myself and my friends stay up all night roaming the frozen streets of west Omaha until the sun shows its ugly head. So instead my sister and I put together a short based on the world's greatest scientist (and on an old recoil piece). It's not high art, but it is mildly entertaining.
Apologies ahead of time for the shoddy production values, but c'mon, this is comedy not Brokeback Mountain.
Dr_Pepper.mp4 [10.4mb]
0 Comments
Wednesday, January 04, 2006
The first forgettable record of 2006.
posted by RICK : 4:55 PM
Like the rest of America that is still hopelessly clinging onto the early aughts, yesterday I picked up First Impressions of Earth" by one-time supergroup The Strokes. I'm not going to say I was excited for its release, as I wasn't, but I was hoping that it would be a pleasant gem in an otherwise cold, unforgiving winter. I've had the record for about 24 hours as of this writing and have yet to get all the way through it (mostly because of time constraints and my lack of iPod), but that being said what I've heard couldn't be more boring-- or at the very least-- couldn't descend into complacency quicker. The first two tracks are exactly what I was hoping for, but then it just turns into the jangle-jangle-whine-whine formula that they never really had in the past, but always hinted at.
The very first time I heard The Stokes was on Halloween night in 2001, when I bought myself tickets to their first NYC show after the record ("Is This It?") was released. That show kicked ass. I wasn't even sure if this was a band I liked or not. All I could tell was that the crowd was going nuts, and I wasn't certain if I'd make it off the Hammerstein floor alive. Perhaps more interestingly, I didn't know at the time that this was suppose to be the Jesus Christ of rock and roll that was going to come down from the heavens and save us from a world of ultra-produced boy-bands and rap-metal. Now, I see that in order to have fulfilled the prophecy they had to eventually die. At the time I was never of the opinion, unlike many, that this band WAS the end-all, and by the time I actually got their record and decided "hey, these kids are good," the moment had already passed and the Hipster-Pontious-Pilot had called for their heads.
When the dust settles, I'm sure I'll look back (perhaps like I did with Weezer's "Make Believe") and declare "First Impressions of Earth" to be a decent record. Hell, it may even start climbing in playcount years from now when I go through my library and think, "Oh yeah, this band was awesome once!" Unfortunately, until that moment comes I'm stuck with a boring record from a band that is no longer relevent in the ever expanding family tree of rock and roll.
In other sad music news...
It has been reported that pianist/pop-freak Nellie McKay has been dropped by Columbia Records. Apparently, she wanted to release her next album (originally due this coming Tuesday) with 23 songs, and they wanted to release it with 16-songs. Why, in the age of digital music this is even an issue is absolutely beyond me, but apparently she was trying to get out of the label anyway.
Her best quote on the situation:"It ain’t no use to sit and wonder why. They kept the coffee pot, I got the dog.” She added, “All that matters to me is that I can continue to make irritating music which will baffle and enrage."
-AP
I hope the record still comes out.
0 Comments
Tuesday, January 03, 2006
Such Great Heights.
Monday, January 02, 2006
Proving a point...
Welcome to "What Is Recoil?." If you would like to post something on this blog, but don't have a WIR-Blogger login, then send me an e-mail, and I'll make it happen. SHAZAM!
-Rick
(co-creator)
Rick |
Dynamarx |
rus-trick |
ryan |
The Potato |
JDM |
DrNewsie |
Mr. MS |
AK |
Brooke |
Stein |
Moses |
G |
CarrieOkie |
Jen |
Duhn |
M. Moore | Laura |
Mr.T |
kat |
abby | Greg
09/2005 | 10/2005 | 11/2005 | 12/2005 | 01/2006 | 02/2006 | 03/2006 | 04/2006 | 05/2006 | 06/2006 | 07/2006 | 08/2006 | 09/2006 | 10/2006 | 11/2006 | 12/2006 | 01/2007 | 02/2007 | 03/2007 |
"Camp and irony have come to the point where we can no longer deem something legitimately awful."-BAP
At the time of that quote Mr. Flextimer and I were discussing the incredibly ridiculous pop-sensation "My Humps." He stated, justifiably, that it might be the single worst song ever to hit the charts. While I don't totally agree with the sentiment (every era has its radio mysteries-- "Baby Got Back" anyone?), I completely understand his reasoning: irony is out of control.
In the current climate everything is good, because even if it may come off as bad, it can be spun into a "cult sensation" or "guilty pleasure." And while I'm as guilty of this as anyone (yeah, I've downloaded "My Humps" AND listen to it frequently), it is absolutely destroying popular media. No wonder Arrested Development is getting canceled. Why would a network or studio want to shell out dollars for a good writing team when they can simply put a camera in a room full of retarded leprechauns and let the ad money simply roll in?
Being greeted with indifference is perhaps the worst fate for a show. When good is good and bad is good, the only real "bad" is mediocrity, which just might be the death-blow to the legitimately good program Rollergirls (A&E, Mondays @ 10pm est)- a "reality" show about the girls (or is it grrrls?) who compete in the Lone Star Rollergirls league in Austin. I quoted "reality" because this show is produced by the genius team that brought the world "Laguna Beach"-- an almost cinematic reality program on MTV designed to compete with FOX's fictional "The OC." I can't get myself to watch "Laguna." Not because I take issue with it's liberal use of the reality-moniker (after all, we've gone everywhere from The Real World to Survivor to the Joe Schmo Show to K-Street to the West West Wing, and who really gives a fuck if the characters are real or not*) but because I take issue with the show's peddling of a lifestyle where a bunch of rich cunts drive SUVs and paint their nails and complain about boys and their lives and how daddy didn't love them all while throwing rocks at the maid and forcing the immigrant gardener to-- look I've never seen this show. I have no idea what actually happens on it, but it doesn't matter. The IDEA of "Laguna Beach" is enough to make me hate it-- which happens to be draped in layers of irony as a slightly colder version of myself would probably LOVE it. So bad it's good, right? Wrong. The difference being that, in my mind, the target audience is 13-15 year-old girls who aren't going to interpret the show as anything other than "this is the way I'm suppose to live." I find this completely wreckless. Move the show to M2 and play it before "Wonder Shozen" and suddenly we're talking about a different beast altogether. But we aren't.
What makes "Rollergirls" significant is that it does what television is so perfect at-- giving the viewer a look into a lifestyle that is not their own. And in the case of this show, that lifestyle isn't necessarily one about indie-chicks wearing fishnets and beating the living piss out of one another, its about a generation of 20-somethings who aren't graphic designers or rock critics or running internet companies, but are carving out a place for themselves in an America that increasingly seems to think they don't matter. Look, Zach Braff didn't invent the quarter-life-crisis and for some people changing your life might need to be a little more visceral than "New Slang," which is to say that, yes, the fishnets and beating the piss out of one another is a definite plus.
What I responded to while watching the premiere episode on my computer last night was that this is the type of show that has the capability of attracting a demographic desperately in need of mainstream validation. Those people being the heartland's media elite. Digital cable, the internet and Netflix have made it possible for anyone not living in New York or Los Angeles to be as media savvy as their pretentious coast-dwelling kin. "Rollergirls" is a purple-state show if ever there was one. It takes place in the heart of Texas, though that heart happens to be Austin (the oasis). Also, the characters are predominantly middle-to-lower class-- a group that has been severely under-served across the television spectrum since the cancellation of Roseanne. Of course, this isn't the case for all of them. One girl, Venis Envy, who was the focus of this first episode was a former art-student who decided to buy a camper with her hipster boyfriend and travel the country living nomad life. This sounds like hipster chic, until you realize living out of a van is, generally speaking, not the American dream, but maybe for some-- actually I kind of hope it is.
Most refreshing, though, is Rollergirls' blatant sexuality that is everpresent, but never comes off as forced. The creators do an great job of presenting the girls as matter-of-fact as possible. I mean, let's not kid ourselves here, the underlying principles in Roller Derby are the marketing of sex and violence as entertainment, and perhaps that's exactly why it seems to work so well. This isn't WWE. The girls aren't silicone filled body-builders. They are, simply put, incredibly regular-- only tattooed, wearing little and kicking ass. It's post-feminist, but what's better is that its solidly representational of people living in the mid-United States. Also, a Hilton sister is nowhere to be found.
It should probably be noted that the last reality show I watched all the way through was The Real World #10 (back in New York), and even then the only reason I could justify watching was that I found myself stuck in front of a television running a marathon once and figured, what the hell. Perhaps this explains why I find the show so fantastic. Maybe "Rollergirls" is a reality show for people who patently hate reality shows. Unsurprisingly, more than one critic finds it bottom-rung, but I would argue that they simply don't know the audience.
Which brings things back to the original problem. If "Rollergirls" fails it will be because it isn't all that groundbreaking in the tradition "its not TV" sort of way and will hardly garner any sort of acclaim (this isn't the Amazing Fucking Race, now is it?), and yet it isn't the campy mess some were probably hoping for, making the series a perfect supplement to a 40 and pot-brownies. "Rollergirls" should not be missed, despite these shortcomings. Real or not, its representational of America, and not the guilty-pleasure part of America... the part that is just pleasure. Pleasure, and life.
NOTE: I feel like this subject matter also lends itself to the subject of co-opting indie-culture. Or the notion of indie-culture for the masses, and how utterly ridiculous that phrase is, but I've written too much. Perhaps another day.
*Interesting sidebar: I'm kind of fascinated by what level or realism people want out of their media. Most dramas score points for being as true-to-life they can possibly be. A show labeled as "gritty" is suppose to be "real" which then theoretically makes it "good." And yet, no one apparently wants to watch a comedy that is real, because it makes them uncomfortable (which is why, I suppose, The Office, can't hold onto Earl's numbers-- a show that is exceptionally unreal). What's even more peculiar is that the "Reality" programming that people respond to are all based on premises that border on the surreal. I mean, there's a "Reality Show" whose name is "The Surreal Life" and if anyone can explain that to me, I'll ship you your weight in aged cheese. The Real World has never really been about (save for the first 2.3 seasons) BEING REAL. Reality rarely comes with a furnished loft and the ability NOT to work. In fact, one of my favorite seasons, New Orleans (8), actually had a character who was rarely in the show because he went out and got a job.
This seems to carry itself over to movies as well, but more in terms of what audiences are suppose to be scared of:
If Chloe Sevigny gives Vincent Gallo a tragic blowjob, "The Brown Bunny" gets released UNRATED or suffers from the dreadful NC-17 box-office killer, and yet Hollywood can go mad-crazy for the burgeoning torchure porn genre of horror filmmaking and no one thinks twice about it.
0 Comments
Meeting Dr. Pepper
posted by RICK : 7:00 PM
While in Omaha I was planning on shooting a few scenes from a movie I've been working on for what seems like all eternity, but schedules became tight and when push came to shove I just couldn't justify making myself and my friends stay up all night roaming the frozen streets of west Omaha until the sun shows its ugly head. So instead my sister and I put together a short based on the world's greatest scientist (and on an old recoil piece). It's not high art, but it is mildly entertaining.
Apologies ahead of time for the shoddy production values, but c'mon, this is comedy not Brokeback Mountain.
Dr_Pepper.mp4 [10.4mb]
0 Comments
Wednesday, January 04, 2006
The first forgettable record of 2006.
posted by RICK : 4:55 PM
Like the rest of America that is still hopelessly clinging onto the early aughts, yesterday I picked up First Impressions of Earth" by one-time supergroup The Strokes. I'm not going to say I was excited for its release, as I wasn't, but I was hoping that it would be a pleasant gem in an otherwise cold, unforgiving winter. I've had the record for about 24 hours as of this writing and have yet to get all the way through it (mostly because of time constraints and my lack of iPod), but that being said what I've heard couldn't be more boring-- or at the very least-- couldn't descend into complacency quicker. The first two tracks are exactly what I was hoping for, but then it just turns into the jangle-jangle-whine-whine formula that they never really had in the past, but always hinted at.
The very first time I heard The Stokes was on Halloween night in 2001, when I bought myself tickets to their first NYC show after the record ("Is This It?") was released. That show kicked ass. I wasn't even sure if this was a band I liked or not. All I could tell was that the crowd was going nuts, and I wasn't certain if I'd make it off the Hammerstein floor alive. Perhaps more interestingly, I didn't know at the time that this was suppose to be the Jesus Christ of rock and roll that was going to come down from the heavens and save us from a world of ultra-produced boy-bands and rap-metal. Now, I see that in order to have fulfilled the prophecy they had to eventually die. At the time I was never of the opinion, unlike many, that this band WAS the end-all, and by the time I actually got their record and decided "hey, these kids are good," the moment had already passed and the Hipster-Pontious-Pilot had called for their heads.
When the dust settles, I'm sure I'll look back (perhaps like I did with Weezer's "Make Believe") and declare "First Impressions of Earth" to be a decent record. Hell, it may even start climbing in playcount years from now when I go through my library and think, "Oh yeah, this band was awesome once!" Unfortunately, until that moment comes I'm stuck with a boring record from a band that is no longer relevent in the ever expanding family tree of rock and roll.
In other sad music news...
It has been reported that pianist/pop-freak Nellie McKay has been dropped by Columbia Records. Apparently, she wanted to release her next album (originally due this coming Tuesday) with 23 songs, and they wanted to release it with 16-songs. Why, in the age of digital music this is even an issue is absolutely beyond me, but apparently she was trying to get out of the label anyway.
Her best quote on the situation:"It ain’t no use to sit and wonder why. They kept the coffee pot, I got the dog.” She added, “All that matters to me is that I can continue to make irritating music which will baffle and enrage."
-AP
I hope the record still comes out.
0 Comments
Tuesday, January 03, 2006
Such Great Heights.
Monday, January 02, 2006
Proving a point...
Welcome to "What Is Recoil?." If you would like to post something on this blog, but don't have a WIR-Blogger login, then send me an e-mail, and I'll make it happen. SHAZAM!
-Rick
(co-creator)
Rick |
Dynamarx |
rus-trick |
ryan |
The Potato |
JDM |
DrNewsie |
Mr. MS |
AK |
Brooke |
Stein |
Moses |
G |
CarrieOkie |
Jen |
Duhn |
M. Moore | Laura |
Mr.T |
kat |
abby | Greg
09/2005 | 10/2005 | 11/2005 | 12/2005 | 01/2006 | 02/2006 | 03/2006 | 04/2006 | 05/2006 | 06/2006 | 07/2006 | 08/2006 | 09/2006 | 10/2006 | 11/2006 | 12/2006 | 01/2007 | 02/2007 | 03/2007 |
While in Omaha I was planning on shooting a few scenes from a movie I've been working on for what seems like all eternity, but schedules became tight and when push came to shove I just couldn't justify making myself and my friends stay up all night roaming the frozen streets of west Omaha until the sun shows its ugly head. So instead my sister and I put together a short based on the world's greatest scientist (and on an old recoil piece). It's not high art, but it is mildly entertaining.Apologies ahead of time for the shoddy production values, but c'mon, this is comedy not Brokeback Mountain.
Dr_Pepper.mp4 [10.4mb]
0 Comments
The first forgettable record of 2006.
posted by RICK : 4:55 PM
Like the rest of America that is still hopelessly clinging onto the early aughts, yesterday I picked up First Impressions of Earth" by one-time supergroup The Strokes. I'm not going to say I was excited for its release, as I wasn't, but I was hoping that it would be a pleasant gem in an otherwise cold, unforgiving winter. I've had the record for about 24 hours as of this writing and have yet to get all the way through it (mostly because of time constraints and my lack of iPod), but that being said what I've heard couldn't be more boring-- or at the very least-- couldn't descend into complacency quicker. The first two tracks are exactly what I was hoping for, but then it just turns into the jangle-jangle-whine-whine formula that they never really had in the past, but always hinted at.
The very first time I heard The Stokes was on Halloween night in 2001, when I bought myself tickets to their first NYC show after the record ("Is This It?") was released. That show kicked ass. I wasn't even sure if this was a band I liked or not. All I could tell was that the crowd was going nuts, and I wasn't certain if I'd make it off the Hammerstein floor alive. Perhaps more interestingly, I didn't know at the time that this was suppose to be the Jesus Christ of rock and roll that was going to come down from the heavens and save us from a world of ultra-produced boy-bands and rap-metal. Now, I see that in order to have fulfilled the prophecy they had to eventually die. At the time I was never of the opinion, unlike many, that this band WAS the end-all, and by the time I actually got their record and decided "hey, these kids are good," the moment had already passed and the Hipster-Pontious-Pilot had called for their heads.
When the dust settles, I'm sure I'll look back (perhaps like I did with Weezer's "Make Believe") and declare "First Impressions of Earth" to be a decent record. Hell, it may even start climbing in playcount years from now when I go through my library and think, "Oh yeah, this band was awesome once!" Unfortunately, until that moment comes I'm stuck with a boring record from a band that is no longer relevent in the ever expanding family tree of rock and roll.
In other sad music news...
It has been reported that pianist/pop-freak Nellie McKay has been dropped by Columbia Records. Apparently, she wanted to release her next album (originally due this coming Tuesday) with 23 songs, and they wanted to release it with 16-songs. Why, in the age of digital music this is even an issue is absolutely beyond me, but apparently she was trying to get out of the label anyway.
Her best quote on the situation:"It ain’t no use to sit and wonder why. They kept the coffee pot, I got the dog.” She added, “All that matters to me is that I can continue to make irritating music which will baffle and enrage."
-AP
I hope the record still comes out.
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Tuesday, January 03, 2006
Such Great Heights.
Monday, January 02, 2006
Proving a point...
Welcome to "What Is Recoil?." If you would like to post something on this blog, but don't have a WIR-Blogger login, then send me an e-mail, and I'll make it happen. SHAZAM!
-Rick
(co-creator)
Rick |
Dynamarx |
rus-trick |
ryan |
The Potato |
JDM |
DrNewsie |
Mr. MS |
AK |
Brooke |
Stein |
Moses |
G |
CarrieOkie |
Jen |
Duhn |
M. Moore | Laura |
Mr.T |
kat |
abby | Greg
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Like the rest of America that is still hopelessly clinging onto the early aughts, yesterday I picked up First Impressions of Earth" by one-time supergroup The Strokes. I'm not going to say I was excited for its release, as I wasn't, but I was hoping that it would be a pleasant gem in an otherwise cold, unforgiving winter. I've had the record for about 24 hours as of this writing and have yet to get all the way through it (mostly because of time constraints and my lack of iPod), but that being said what I've heard couldn't be more boring-- or at the very least-- couldn't descend into complacency quicker. The first two tracks are exactly what I was hoping for, but then it just turns into the jangle-jangle-whine-whine formula that they never really had in the past, but always hinted at.The very first time I heard The Stokes was on Halloween night in 2001, when I bought myself tickets to their first NYC show after the record ("Is This It?") was released. That show kicked ass. I wasn't even sure if this was a band I liked or not. All I could tell was that the crowd was going nuts, and I wasn't certain if I'd make it off the Hammerstein floor alive. Perhaps more interestingly, I didn't know at the time that this was suppose to be the Jesus Christ of rock and roll that was going to come down from the heavens and save us from a world of ultra-produced boy-bands and rap-metal. Now, I see that in order to have fulfilled the prophecy they had to eventually die. At the time I was never of the opinion, unlike many, that this band WAS the end-all, and by the time I actually got their record and decided "hey, these kids are good," the moment had already passed and the Hipster-Pontious-Pilot had called for their heads.
When the dust settles, I'm sure I'll look back (perhaps like I did with Weezer's "Make Believe") and declare "First Impressions of Earth" to be a decent record. Hell, it may even start climbing in playcount years from now when I go through my library and think, "Oh yeah, this band was awesome once!" Unfortunately, until that moment comes I'm stuck with a boring record from a band that is no longer relevent in the ever expanding family tree of rock and roll.
In other sad music news...
It has been reported that pianist/pop-freak Nellie McKay has been dropped by Columbia Records. Apparently, she wanted to release her next album (originally due this coming Tuesday) with 23 songs, and they wanted to release it with 16-songs. Why, in the age of digital music this is even an issue is absolutely beyond me, but apparently she was trying to get out of the label anyway.
Her best quote on the situation:
"It ain’t no use to sit and wonder why. They kept the coffee pot, I got the dog.” She added, “All that matters to me is that I can continue to make irritating music which will baffle and enrage."I hope the record still comes out.
-AP
0 Comments
Such Great Heights.
Monday, January 02, 2006
Proving a point...
Proving a point...
Welcome to "What Is Recoil?." If you would like to post something on this blog, but don't have a WIR-Blogger login, then send me an e-mail, and I'll make it happen. SHAZAM!
-Rick
(co-creator)
Rick | Dynamarx | rus-trick | ryan | The Potato | JDM | DrNewsie | Mr. MS | AK | Brooke | Stein | Moses | G | CarrieOkie | Jen | Duhn | M. Moore | Laura | Mr.T | kat | abby | Greg
09/2005 | 10/2005 | 11/2005 | 12/2005 | 01/2006 | 02/2006 | 03/2006 | 04/2006 | 05/2006 | 06/2006 | 07/2006 | 08/2006 | 09/2006 | 10/2006 | 11/2006 | 12/2006 | 01/2007 | 02/2007 | 03/2007 |