Think Like a Man

Think Like a Man

seen @ Jackson Heights Cinemas, Jackson Heights, Queens, NY

4.25.12

Ride around on the subways in New York and you'll see plenty of people reading books. It's always been a habit of mine to look over the shoulders of someone and follow along, whether it's a hard copy or an e-book - if I don't have a book of my own, that is (or even if I do). Ride in the subways long enough and you'll easily deduce which books are the popular ones. In the last few years, I've seen people read the Hunger Games books, the Harry Potter books, the Game of Thrones books, and The Help.

I have yet to see anyone on the subway read Act Like a Lady, Think Like a Man, the relationship-advice book by Steve Harvey. I have no doubt it has sold well, nor do I doubt that it has a modicum of popularity. But the movie Think Like a Man, based on the book, would have you believe the book is all the rage - which, I suppose, is understandable, given the movie's clever hook.

In Think the movie, Think the book is the catalyst for a war-between-the-sexes tale, where first the ladies, then the men, use it to try and improve their respective relationships. Harvey himself pops up periodically to impart nuggets of wisdom from his book in a fourth-wall-breaking manner. It does kinda feel like an infomercial after awhile, but it kinda-sorta works because of the way the book is perceived  on both sides: the women see it as vital information being passed on, though some warm up to it quicker than others. (None of them explain why Harvey's opinions on dating bear any weight to begin with, but again, you have to accept this premise for what it is.) The men, by contrast, feel betrayed that one of their own is calling them out on their bad habits, and they use the book to "flip the script," as it were, on their women.

I suppose Harvey's presence in Think kinda reminds me of Elinor Glyn's in the silent classic It: both have written about male-female sexual relationships and how they work, both have had their writings adapted into films, characters in both films read their writings and try to act on them, and both authors appear as themselves in the films to further explicate their respective philosophies. That's about as far as that comparison goes, however.

I have no dog in this hunt; in the game of love, I've been a third-string bench-warmer planted next to the Gatorade cooler for far too long. Still, I enjoyed Think for what it is - a light, glamorous rom-com. It doesn't say anything new or profoundly different about dating, but then neither do 95% of Hollywood rom-coms. What amused me about this one, and this is something I mentioned on Twitter, is how it has the feel of a classic rom-com from the 30s and 40s. The stars are glamorous and beautiful, surrounded as they are by lovely shots of LA by day and by night; the dialogue is delivered snappily, and the story is less about sex than it is romance. It didn't feel like it was making the men out to be dogs or dummies, like I tend to see in a lot of contemporary rom-coms (especially black ones!), but by the same token, it wasn't afraid to show the women's flaws.

Like I said, ultimately this doesn't add up to anything all that insightful or unique; this isn't vintage Woody Allen here. For what it is, though, it's entertaining. It even begins with an animated sequence!

This was the first film I'd seen at the Jackson since the Queens World Film Festival, and the glamor has definitely worn off. When I entered the side theater, the house lights were off and everything was pitch black. It was less than ten minutes to showtime and I was the only one there. I had to find a manager and ask him to have the house lights turned on so I wouldn't trip over myself finding a seat - which was entirely possible, since the center aisle of stairs is steep and not lit with footlights. (Using my cell as a flashlight didn't help.)

I've been coming to the Jackson for so many years, seen so many movies there, and it's an active link to my childhood, which is probably why I tend to look at it through rose-colored glasses most of the time. Still, I think I'm finally beginning to see it as it really is: old.

When I was in Columbus, there was an old neighborhood theater with only a single screen (the Jackson has three), and it felt more modern and stylish and popular than the Jackson does now. (I'll have to write about it sometime soon.) I love the Jackson and probably always will, but every time I go there, I feel like it's not long for this world. I hope I'm wrong.

Let's put a bounty on cell phone users!

...You can't just let The Text-Crazy Kids blaze up Facebook in a theater in order to boost box office without messing it up for everyone else -- and that includes the rest of us old people and that segment of the teenage populace that, you know, doesn't need to compulsively check their phones at the movies and maybe, just maybe, hates it as much as the rest of us when other people do it. To officially allow texting in a theater is to effectively encourage texting in a theater. And while folks like Miles might experiment with outside the box teen baiting strategies -- and good luck to her in that -- how can you even effectively host a text-friendly screening? By offering specialty showtimes, a la Baby Brigade or 21 and Up screenings, maybe?

This has been in the wind for awhile now - the possibility of some movie theaters experimenting with allowing texting for certain films at certain times. I think we can all agree that this idea is wrong, wrong, wrong for so many reasons. I had to confront a cell phone user at a movie recently, and while it may be necessary, it's not always pleasant (I consider myself lucky that I didn't have to yell or get physical in any way). Still, if dwindling ticket sales are the root problem that this idea is supposed to solve, let's find a better solution - one that doesn't reward bad behavior. 

A fine for cell phone use is a good idea, but it would require vigilance on the part of theater staff, and not every theater has the amount of people available for the task. And ushers can't be in the theaters all the time. So why not give the audience the ability to police itself... and in a way that would not only encourage them to root out cell phone users, but actually reward them for the effort!

Think about it: how many more people would turn out for the movies every week if the theaters offered a lucrative reward for catching cell phone users in the act? When you go out this summer to see Avengers or Amazing Spider-Man or Men in Black 3, you don't wan't the experience ruined by some douchebag texting in the middle of the movie, but most people don't feel inclined to do anything about it. Well, if you knew that the theater would reward you with, say, a $50 gift certificate and unlimited popcorn at your next screening, would you do something about it then? You bet your ass you would! And if you're there with a bunch of your friends, well then, you've got a whole posse backing you up, pal! What's one little pimply-faced teenager gonna do against that?

The theater could also provide some sort of silent signaler which one could use to alert the staff, for those times when the cell phone user may have friends backing him or her up. Because after all, you wanna collect on that bounty, but you don't wanna have to fight for it - unless you feel you can win, that is!

And of course, it's entirely possible that more than one person could lay claim to the bounty, in which case management can simply split the reward equally. The important thing is to emphasize teamwork. Everybody should be encouraged to work together towards a common goal. And management should recognize that you've gotta spend money to make money - because isn't a little financial incentive worth a bigger ticket-buying audience?

I think it's worth a shot, don't you?

[Eh, okay, so this is only half-serious. Feel free to improve on my idea all you like.]

------------------------

Related:

Five ways for theaters to get butts back in seats

Thank you, Alamo Drafthouse, for giving a damn

Bully

Bully
seen @ Kew Gardens Cinemas, Kew Gardens, Queens, NY
4.24.12


For what it's worth, I saw the PG-13 version of Bully and I'm convinced that the big rating hoo-hah that preceded this film's release was a whole lotta nothing in the end. Say what you will about the film's uber-producer Harvey Weinstein, but at the very least, I can see why he chose to champion this film. It's moving and powerful, and the bullied children, along with their families and friends, eloquently lay bare the narratives of their lives. It's tough to sit through at times, but it's worth the effort.


That said, I don't think Bully was as comprehensive a film as it could have been. Why? No one talked to any actual bullies! As harrowing and at times even inspiring, the stories of the bullied children are, after awhile one gets the feeling of preaching to the choir. We all agree that bullying children is wrong and that something should be done about it, but in order to do that, I feel it's necessary to first ask: why does it happen?

Bullying is not an inherent act; it must be learned. It's an act that transcends gender, race, environment and generation. Without getting too deep into psychology and sociology, I think it's safe to say that it's learned from being around other peers, and is the result of a variety of societal pressures and fears. But talking to actual bullies and finding out straight from them why they harass other kids would've been as enlightening as hearing from the bullied - not to lay blame, not to antagonize, but simply to understand. The more I watched Bully, the more I felt that it was a little bit one-sided.


Still, when you see these stories unfold, you can hardly blame director Lee Hirsch for wanting to give as much time to them as possible. A few highlights: the town meeting held by the parents of the teenager who killed himself, in which an entire community bares its pain over the effects of bullying; the mother of the girl who faced her tormentors with a stolen gun, hugging and singing to her daughter; the father of the small-town lesbian teen, saying how he never truly understood what it meant to walk in another's shoes until he raised a gay child in an intolerant town. These are only a few of the images that linger long after seeing this film.

From a different angle, I was quite curious as to how they filmed the scenes on the school bus with Alex, the Iowa tween who is shockingly blase about the amount of bullying he gets. It looked like there was an actual cameraman on the bus and not a hidden camera, so if that was the case, how did they get the kids to act normally and not mug for the camera?


Reality television has challenged our perception of filmed, intimate (read: unscripted) moments, and while this is certainly not unique to Bully, there were a few scenes where I couldn't help but wonder at the level of veracity. I'm talking about any scene meant to be spontaneous, but filmed from more than one angle, such as the bus scenes. Seeing cuts in such scenes make me think there's a "jump" in time implied. While it's possible that there was more than one camera on that bus, how likely is it - especially when one is specifically after naturalism uninhibited by the presence of cameras? Like I said, this is not something unique to this film, but I couldn't help but think about it as I watched.

Regrettably, I had to take action against a chronic cell phone user while watching Bully. I was in Theater 6 of the Kew Gardens, a small screening room, half of which has stadium seating. I was in the front left side of the first row of stadium-seating, and in a corner in the far rear, right side, was a middle-aged (I think) couple. There were perhaps a half-dozen other people in the room when the film started.


The woman's cell went off early. I didn't see her at first because she and her companion were so far back, but after the second time it went off, I spotted her. The movie was just loud enough at first that I could pay her yapping on the phone no mind, but I was getting irritated. The third time her cell went off, however, during a quieter moment, I got out of my seat, walked halfway up the stairs, pointed straight at her and demanded she get off the phone. (I even remembered to say please.) Surprisingly, she didn't put up a fight - and I was ready for one. I didn't hear her cell for the remainder of the flick.

'Restless City' opens this Friday!

Just a reminder that Restless City, the movie I reviewed from last year's Urbanworld Film Festival and the latest film to be picked up by AFFRM, opens this Friday nationwide (here's the list of where and when it's playing). This is a really good movie, but if my review alone isn't enough to convince you, check out the trailer, or this video interview with director Andrew Dosunmu, or this review from The Hollywood Reporter.


I'm gonna see it with friends, and since I've already written about it once here, I'm gonna write about this second viewing on the WSW Facebook page, so be sure to look for it there.


---------------------
Related:
'Restless City' picked up by AFFRM!!
My obligatory Top 10 for 2011

A few thoughts on Dick Clark

I'll probably remember Dick Clark more as the New Year's Eve guy than anything else. I do remember watching American Bandstand as a kid, but I can't honestly say that it was all that influential in shaping my musical tastes. I'm a child of the MTV generation. Music videos had a much greater impact on me. That and Casey Kasem's "American Top 40."


I certainly recall seeing Clark every New Year's Eve on TV. It was part of the fun of getting to stay up late on such a night as a kid - imagining myself in Times Square with half of New York, yelling and screaming. I should say, though, that the appeal quickly vanished after I actually did spend one New Year's in Times Square with a friend. We didn't get closer than 50th Street, it was cold as hell, and standing around for hours, unable to move, much less see anything, was not as cool as it looked like on TV; in fact, it actually sucked!


And then there was also Pyramid, a fun little game show, as well as TV's Bloopers and Practical Jokes. I think I watched that more for Clark and Ed McMahon than anything else. Those two always seemed part of my television viewing experience while growing up. They were just there, in one way or another... and they were likable, so why wouldn't I watch this silly little show?


I spent a New Year's with John and Sue not too long ago, and we were making fun of Clark, still hosting New Year's Rockin' Eve post-stroke, and yeah, I guess I feel a little guilty about it now. Seeing him soldier on like that was awkward, no doubt, but foolishly heroic as well, I suppose. I mean, he had absolutely nothing left to prove, but there he was, still ringing in the new year like he had been doing for so long, like nothing changed and obviously he was unafraid of embarrassment..


Dick Clark was an American institution, an integral part of our pop culture for generations. I know I'll miss him.

Pride of the Yankees

Pride of the Yankees
seen on TV @ TCM
4.18.12


Did you know there's a Y-nk--s fragrance? I've been seeing subway ads for it lately and every time I do, I wonder who thought it was a good idea and why would anyone choose to wear it? I imagine it smelling of sweatsocks, tobacco, and whatever else the inside of a professional baseball player's locker smells like. Call it Eau de Jock Strap.


There was a time, still within living memory, when the Team From the Bronx was the only team in town. And while I'm grateful that this period ended, since the Mets came along in 1962 to fill the void left by the Dodgers and Giants (50th anniversary this year, by the way - just sayin'), sometimes I wonder what it would've been like growing up with only one ball club. Indeed, when it comes to sports, New York is greedy; we have to have two of everything (the Nets will return to this side of the Hudson this fall in a new arena in Brooklyn). I never questioned the need for this until I spent a year in Columbus, a smaller town where everyone - and I do mean everyone - gets behind one team: the football Buckeyes of Ohio State U. 


It was a very different feeling. Having a single team in a single sport unites the town in a manner unlike here in New York, where there are always gonna be divided loyalties. Let's face it, anyone who says they like both the Team From the Bronx and the Mets equally are not real New York baseball fans. (I suppose a similar argument could be made for the Giants/Jets and Rangers/Islanders, but I wouldn't know for sure.)

More than any other sport, baseball has been a hugely integral part of New York's identity, and yes, the Team From the Bronx is largely responsible for that, but the Mets, Giants and Dodgers were and are also part of that identity too (I've touched before on what makes the Mets distinct from their crosstown rivals). But what if New York remained a one-team town after the Giants and Dodgers left?


Would it have been so bad to eventually get behind one team, the team with more championships than anyone else? Sure, it would've been wrenching at first to be forced to shift loyalties after rooting against them for so long - I know how it would make me feel - but once the reality set in, I imagine that eventually I'd have to concede that any team is better than no team. (Actually, now that we've got minor league teams within the five boroughs as well, that'd be a compromise I could live with...)

These days, however, sports teams change cities at an alarming rate, as greedy owners stick up their host cities for money to build ultra-modern arenas. The Team From the Bronx held up Y-nk-- Stadium for ransom too, demanding the capital necessary to make a new ballpark, and because no one can conceive New York without the Team From the Bronx, they got it, though not without a drawback or two (for instance, parking space that no one uses).


It's pointless to speculate on what a one-team-per-sport New York would be like, I know, but with the imminent return of the Nets this fall, it's been on my mind a bit lately, and I've wanted to get it off my chest.


So: about that Lou Gehrig biopic from the 40s. You know the one. I used to see this on TV every so often around the start of baseball season, and of course, because I knew my baseball history, I knew who Gehrig was. Watching it the other day, I was gratified that I now know who Teresa Wright, Walter Brennan and Dan Duryea were in addition to, of course, Gary Cooper, and could better appreciate their performances as well (especially Brennan).

Still, the movie doesn't hold up as well for me anymore. For instance, there are places where the action stops dead (why did we need to see that dance number?). The narrative is not as dramatic as it could be. The drama should come from Gehrig's slow realization that he can't perform as well as he used to because of his neurological condition, but in my opinion this gets the short shrift because the movie is so eager to show you the whole of Gehrig's life, which, prior to his illness, is less dramatic.


The worst part, though, is how they can't even be bothered to explicitly tell you why Gehrig can't play ball anymore, never naming amyotrophic lateral sclerosis even once, which I find a little offensive, actually. It minimizes the disease and keeps it at a safe distance for no good reason and makes it less real, and by so doing cheapens Gehrig's life a little bit. I realize a lot of people love this movie, but that's just how I see it.

Marley (advance screening)

Bob Marley, poet and a prophet

Back during my days as a summer camp counselor in Massachusetts, there was this guy named Nick. He was one of the counselors, and he was a good guy; very laid-back. Nick played guitar, and his bag was world music. I remember him teaching me about some Brazilian music that I really dug. Nick played guitar, and all summer long he tried to get the kids into reggae music. There were two songs in particular he loved playing most. "Pressure Drop" by Toots and the Maytals was one; the other was "Redemption Song" by Bob Marley.


He had mixed success. Nick was popular and well-liked by both campers and staff, so it wasn't anything to do with his personality. He was a decent singer, so it wasn't that. I suppose some songs connect with kids more than others.


Every now and then I think of Nick whenever I hear reggae music, and in my neighborhood, I hear it almost as often as I do hip-hop. To be honest, reggae has always been difficult for me to get into. A lot of the time, I can barely understand what the singers are saying, partially because of the thick Jamaican accents, partly because of the cadence of their singing. "Pop" reggae stars like Shaggy and Sean Paul are different, naturally, though I imagine most reggae fans would probably turn their noses up at those guys. And then there's someone like Matisyahu, who is perhaps in a league of his own.

Bob Marley taught me how to off it

Still, when you talk about reggae music, sooner or later you have to come to Bob Marley, because in practical terms he was the Elvis of reggae. No one in the field has the following he does, even long after his death, because over the course of his brief life he grew to become much more than a singer. Like John Lennon, he was an icon for peace.


The forthcoming documentary Marley captures his life and music beautifully, including interviews with members of his band, The Wailers, plus family, friends, and business associates, and of course, lots of news and concert footage.


The film goes into the singer's conversion to the Rastafarian religion, but it doesn't go that deep into the faith's basic tenets. We do see quite a bit of discussion on the Ethiopian emperor Haile Selassie, who's revered as some sort of reincarnation or direct descendant of Christ or something, like Linda Fiorentino's character in Dogma, but we don't really find out how he got that way. Rastafarianism is such an integral part of Marley's music; it would've been nice to have gone a little more into it, I thought.


And then there's the political aspects of Marley's life. We see the opposing political parties in Jamaica during Marley's time, his involvement, the attempt on his life during a concert in Jamaica, as well as the subsequent concert, years later, that the country practically begged him to do in order to restore peace between the factions.


Seeing all of this reminded me of the activism in pop music that I grew up witnessing in the 80s. Whether it was to fight drugs, or South African apartheid, or hunger in Ethiopia, I don't recall ever questioning its place, even if I didn't always understand what the cause was about. Take apartheid, for example. I vaguely remember learning a little about it in school, but I probably learned more about it from singers like Peter Gabriel than anything else. It's an aspect of 80s music that's rarely discussed. People sometimes mock 80s music, but for all its synthesized sound and big hair and heavy makeup, it was also a period of great activism, and that activism was front and center in the mainstream.

Bob Marley, walk it like he talk it

Marley, though... imagine an entire country looking to a singer to quell civil unrest and inspire hope and freedom amongst the populace. And not just in Jamaica, either; the doc also shows him in a concert in Zimbabwe on the eve of that nation's independence. (Of course, no one knew at the time what their leader, Robert Mugabe, would turn out to be like, but hey.)

Perhaps the only contemporary musician comparable to Marley in terms of combining popularity and politics might be Bono, but even he doesn't come close to the reverence many people felt, and still feel, for Marley. There was no one quite like him.


Marley the doc was screened last Thursday at a club called the Knitting Factory in Brooklyn. This was my first time there. The bar/lounge area is surrounded with paintings of musical stars, like Debbie Harry, Iggy Pop, and Johnny Cash. In one corner there was a video game console where people were playing Tetris. I played it for a bit before we were all let into what would normally be the concert hall for bands. There were folding chairs all around in front of the screen on the stage. I sat up in the front row for a change.


The audience was a diverse one, and it soon became clear to me that some people knew Marley's history better than others. A woman in the row behind me periodically responded to salient points on Marley's history with knowing "um hmms" in recognition. She talked to her friends quite a bit, but it never quite reached the point where I felt I had to shush her.


Marley will be released April 20 (Four-Twenty, of course).