Me and Orson Welles
September 11, 9pm
Ryerson Theatre
Orson Welles is one of those rare film personalities that fascinates me outside of his body of work.
An accomplished thespian and radio artist before he ever turned to more celluloid based endeavours, his genius and larger than life personality were eclipsed only by his hubris and arrogance. His film career was cut tragically short because he refused to play the studio game, but not before he forever changed the way that movies were made in Hollywood. As a result actions, he spent the rest of his life hopping around the globe trying to secure financing on a variety of projects, never again truly getting the opportunity to truly exercise his creative abilities.
However, in the Richard Linklater production, Me and Orson Welles, the focus of the film is on Richard Samuels (Zac Efron), an aspiring actor who lucks into a supporting role in Welles’ modern dress stage version of Julius Caesar. The film covers approximately the two weeks before the opening of the play. Samuels is chafing at the bit as approaches the end of his high school education and so he goes out into the world to see what it has to offer him. Almost by accident he becomes a member of the famed Mercury Theatre where he experiences first hand the passion, creativity and near chaos that was any project Orson Welles’ put his mind too.
Welles, played to absolute perfection by little known actor Christian McKay, is almost reduced to being part of the background scenery, albeit a part of the scenery that’s not afraid to insert itself forcibly into the action of the film. His almost tangible personality reinforces the character and feel of the late 1930’s, where radio was the mainstream commercial juggernaut of the day, film little more than a snot-nosed upstart and where theatre was where all the really prestigious actors worked.
McKay’s Welles moves like a storm throughout this film, scattering actors, and their ambitions, left and right. People don’t act with Welles, they react to him. He is as far above his stage counterparts of the day as he would be above his film peers less than four years later. It’s unfortunate that in the film that bears his name in the marquee, it is not this man that we are supposed to be watching
Zac Efron, Clare Danes and Ben Chaplin all do credibly jobs with the time they are given on screen. But make no mistake, you’re hear to watch Christian McKay. The man manages to bring Welles’s epic personality to the screen, but dial it back just enough that he doesn’t overshadow his fellow performers. This film is nothing more than a brief slice of Welles’ frenzied career, but it is a filling meal nonetheless.
***A note on my festival experience thus far. TIFF 07 was notable for the sheer amount of death and nudity that I ingested. I saw some great movies but the subject matter was overwhelmingly bleak and depressing and by the end of the fest I was craving some lighter fare. This year, the theme of my TIFF experience seems to be intense character driven pieces. Gone are the blood and guts, and questionable graphic nudity scenes of last year, and I would argue that my festival experience has
Friday, September 12, 2008
Thursday, September 11, 2008
and furthermore...
...my honeymoon sinus infection has flared up again.
Which means I'm blowing copious amounts of snot out of my skull, breathing entirely from my mouth and generally shuffling along in an obscene parody of a living, functioning human being.
Over the last couple days S has wondered aloud about the need to consider separate bedrooms for the duration of my illness. This is only disturbing when you consider the fact that we live in a one bedroom townhouse.
Which means I'm blowing copious amounts of snot out of my skull, breathing entirely from my mouth and generally shuffling along in an obscene parody of a living, functioning human being.
Over the last couple days S has wondered aloud about the need to consider separate bedrooms for the duration of my illness. This is only disturbing when you consider the fact that we live in a one bedroom townhouse.
Fall start up
So,
Back in school again for another semester. This time out the course is Reputation Management aka Crisis Communications and since its my fifth course in my PR certificate it officially puts me over the halfway mark in post secondary education: round 2.
My first assignment is supposed to be talking about my personal brand. What makes me, me?
6’4, blond hair, blue eyes, devastatingly handsome and recently started snoring in his sleep. Bam. Done. What more do you need to know? That’s my brand.
I also started the fall Frisbee season on Tuesday. I signed up as an individual and got thrown into a team that just made the switch from rec to intermediate. So I found myself handling again as some people were a little disc shy. Its not big a deal. Maybe I’ll take the opportunity to get my flick down. Stranger things have happened.* My only beef with the team is that we play at a venue that’s notorious for injuring people. The floor isn’t turf or wood, its some kind of rubberized concrete that becomes extremely slippery when the outdoor temp starts to drop. S tore her Achilles tendon there, I’ve seen break their wrist and more wipe outs then I can count. Last year I even wrote the sports league to complain about their continued use of the venue.
But with the loss of their domed turf field, the league can’t afford to be picky at where they schedule games. And since I signed up to play in it, apparently, neither can I.
*Stranger things have in fact NOT happened.
Back in school again for another semester. This time out the course is Reputation Management aka Crisis Communications and since its my fifth course in my PR certificate it officially puts me over the halfway mark in post secondary education: round 2.
My first assignment is supposed to be talking about my personal brand. What makes me, me?
6’4, blond hair, blue eyes, devastatingly handsome and recently started snoring in his sleep. Bam. Done. What more do you need to know? That’s my brand.
I also started the fall Frisbee season on Tuesday. I signed up as an individual and got thrown into a team that just made the switch from rec to intermediate. So I found myself handling again as some people were a little disc shy. Its not big a deal. Maybe I’ll take the opportunity to get my flick down. Stranger things have happened.* My only beef with the team is that we play at a venue that’s notorious for injuring people. The floor isn’t turf or wood, its some kind of rubberized concrete that becomes extremely slippery when the outdoor temp starts to drop. S tore her Achilles tendon there, I’ve seen break their wrist and more wipe outs then I can count. Last year I even wrote the sports league to complain about their continued use of the venue.
But with the loss of their domed turf field, the league can’t afford to be picky at where they schedule games. And since I signed up to play in it, apparently, neither can I.
*Stranger things have in fact NOT happened.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Shock and Awe
Oh yah,
ASBAR #10.
The one that has apparently been recalled due to a printing error. (Must fight the urge to add air quotes.) The one which must be instantly destroyed if you see it out in the open sunlight.
Well apparently my local comic shoppe decided to ignore that edict, received the title as planned, and stuck it on the shelf anyway.
Yes, there are some very bad words in here.
Yes, you can see said bad words without trying very hard.
No, I’m not shocked.
Let’s face it. If you’re reading ASBAR you’re doing it because a) You want to see just how far Miller will go before his overlords at DC pull him back. b) You like a good laugh, (and the dialogue in this title is nothing if not hilarious.) c) You want to be a part of the tidal wave of public criticism and (sometimes) mockery. d) You like Jim Lee’s art.
Honestly, it doesn’t bother me that much. It feels like shock for shock’s sake, like a writer trying to push the envelope, trying to stir up some controversy and hey, its working.
Very few people I know admit to liking ASBAR, but they all read it, because they’re fascinated by how far this thing will go. I don’t know how well this title is selling, mostly because I’m too lazy to use the internet, but it’s still being published so obviously someone is reading.
Yes the language goes way beyond strong, but honestly this comic wasn’t intended for younger readers. The argument that, just because it contains Batman, we should be extra vigilant in ensuring that it remains all ages friendly is disingenuous. We make Batman comics (Super Friends) for younger readers, why can’t we have ones for older ones as well? Like anything else that may be bad for children, booze, drugs, cigarettes, guns, etc, accountability for making sure this comic doesn’t end up in the wrong hands lies in the hands of responsible adults.
Of course kids are going to want to see Batman swear. They’re also going to want to Daddy’s Playboys as well. Specifically because they’re not supposed to see it. We know to keep pornography from children, so why not questionable reading material as well? If your childhood hero using offensive language disturbs you on a personal level, then vote with your wallet or write to someone who can do something about it.
In an industry where almost every safe plotline has been done, it’s inevitable that someone is going to try to push the boundaries in order to find something new. If that offends you, push back.
ASBAR #10.
The one that has apparently been recalled due to a printing error. (Must fight the urge to add air quotes.) The one which must be instantly destroyed if you see it out in the open sunlight.
Well apparently my local comic shoppe decided to ignore that edict, received the title as planned, and stuck it on the shelf anyway.
Yes, there are some very bad words in here.
Yes, you can see said bad words without trying very hard.
No, I’m not shocked.
Let’s face it. If you’re reading ASBAR you’re doing it because a) You want to see just how far Miller will go before his overlords at DC pull him back. b) You like a good laugh, (and the dialogue in this title is nothing if not hilarious.) c) You want to be a part of the tidal wave of public criticism and (sometimes) mockery. d) You like Jim Lee’s art.
Honestly, it doesn’t bother me that much. It feels like shock for shock’s sake, like a writer trying to push the envelope, trying to stir up some controversy and hey, its working.
Very few people I know admit to liking ASBAR, but they all read it, because they’re fascinated by how far this thing will go. I don’t know how well this title is selling, mostly because I’m too lazy to use the internet, but it’s still being published so obviously someone is reading.
Yes the language goes way beyond strong, but honestly this comic wasn’t intended for younger readers. The argument that, just because it contains Batman, we should be extra vigilant in ensuring that it remains all ages friendly is disingenuous. We make Batman comics (Super Friends) for younger readers, why can’t we have ones for older ones as well? Like anything else that may be bad for children, booze, drugs, cigarettes, guns, etc, accountability for making sure this comic doesn’t end up in the wrong hands lies in the hands of responsible adults.
Of course kids are going to want to see Batman swear. They’re also going to want to Daddy’s Playboys as well. Specifically because they’re not supposed to see it. We know to keep pornography from children, so why not questionable reading material as well? If your childhood hero using offensive language disturbs you on a personal level, then vote with your wallet or write to someone who can do something about it.
In an industry where almost every safe plotline has been done, it’s inevitable that someone is going to try to push the boundaries in order to find something new. If that offends you, push back.
Work bit
Crashed a press conference this morning, for strictly work related reasons. Met Paul Gross, Don McKellar, Martha Burns and Karen Kain.
I was literally surrounded by a who’s who of Canada’s A-list arts and culture types.
I’m being pounded into the ground with work right now. I’m like a carnival whack-a-mole. I’m rushing to meet deadlines on Project A, while the recent federal election call means that I need to deal with the appearance of an instant workload on Project B.
Such is life.
The arrival of the new staffer is a mixed blessing for me. One the one hand I’ve been doing the job of two people for almost a year now so I can’t deny that the extra set of hands is needed. On the other hand I embrace change like a vampire embraces sunlight, with much wailing and gnashing of teeth…followed by a little internal combustion.
She’s a nice person, works hard and is probably smarter than I am. She also knows my Manager outside of work and is another opinion that muddies the water a little bit. Even though it was a shit load of work, I’d become used to shouldering the load and it’s like pulling teeth for me to give any of it up.
I was literally surrounded by a who’s who of Canada’s A-list arts and culture types.
I’m being pounded into the ground with work right now. I’m like a carnival whack-a-mole. I’m rushing to meet deadlines on Project A, while the recent federal election call means that I need to deal with the appearance of an instant workload on Project B.
Such is life.
The arrival of the new staffer is a mixed blessing for me. One the one hand I’ve been doing the job of two people for almost a year now so I can’t deny that the extra set of hands is needed. On the other hand I embrace change like a vampire embraces sunlight, with much wailing and gnashing of teeth…followed by a little internal combustion.
She’s a nice person, works hard and is probably smarter than I am. She also knows my Manager outside of work and is another opinion that muddies the water a little bit. Even though it was a shit load of work, I’d become used to shouldering the load and it’s like pulling teeth for me to give any of it up.
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
TIFF not for the regular guy anymore
So I’ve seen (and participated) in some chatter about how the basic nature of TIFF has changed recently. Last weekend, a Toronto newspaper columnist even called it elitist and went on to list a bunch of reasons why the fest wasn’t about the regular people any longer.
I have to say on the whole I find his basic premise spot on. The fest has changed. About five or six years ago when I first started attending it seriously I could buy a ten back of tickets for about a hundred bucks (tax included) and have a reasonable chance at getting in to see just about any film on the schedule. This included some years where I spent some serious time in the Rush Line in the hopes of catching a hot film. Now days I pay north of 160 for that same ten pack and may get none of my first picks if I happen to get a bad box in the random draw.
It’s all changed now. The big venues are more interested in keeping people away, setting up more and more of those crowd control barriers at the larger venues (Roy T and the Elgin). It used to be I could stand in the Rush Line at Roy T and watch the limos pull up and drop the glitterati off. Nowdays I’d have to run a gamut of police officers, photogs, crazed fans and crowd control barriers straight out of Children of Men. Inviting it isn’t.
Then there’s the preferential treatment afforded to ‘Donors’, the price jacking of anything at the Elgin, the ever encroaching presence of big name sponsors, an unhealthy obsession by the media to cover the eating habits of whatever celeb happens to be in town and a general overall feeling that this festival isn’t about having fun anymore.
It’s about setting up a pecking order for those with enough money and influence to jump the line and get in to all the hot parties. Its about business and doing deals and getting sponsors ships and the prestigious of a permanent office on Queen Street (the sponsorally named Bell Lightbox)
I guess the only question have is ‘What took it so long?’
I have to say on the whole I find his basic premise spot on. The fest has changed. About five or six years ago when I first started attending it seriously I could buy a ten back of tickets for about a hundred bucks (tax included) and have a reasonable chance at getting in to see just about any film on the schedule. This included some years where I spent some serious time in the Rush Line in the hopes of catching a hot film. Now days I pay north of 160 for that same ten pack and may get none of my first picks if I happen to get a bad box in the random draw.
It’s all changed now. The big venues are more interested in keeping people away, setting up more and more of those crowd control barriers at the larger venues (Roy T and the Elgin). It used to be I could stand in the Rush Line at Roy T and watch the limos pull up and drop the glitterati off. Nowdays I’d have to run a gamut of police officers, photogs, crazed fans and crowd control barriers straight out of Children of Men. Inviting it isn’t.
Then there’s the preferential treatment afforded to ‘Donors’, the price jacking of anything at the Elgin, the ever encroaching presence of big name sponsors, an unhealthy obsession by the media to cover the eating habits of whatever celeb happens to be in town and a general overall feeling that this festival isn’t about having fun anymore.
It’s about setting up a pecking order for those with enough money and influence to jump the line and get in to all the hot parties. Its about business and doing deals and getting sponsors ships and the prestigious of a permanent office on Queen Street (the sponsorally named Bell Lightbox)
I guess the only question have is ‘What took it so long?’
Monday, September 8, 2008
Purge
So last night was the big clothes purge.
I got rid of nearly two dozen T-shirts, some pitched callously overboard in a desperate bid to save my concert Ts, a double handful of socks, a lone pair of pants, and another lone pair of shorts and a couple long sleeved work shirts I no longer wear. They all went in a big black garbage bag for drop off at the closest Salvation Army. I even managed to chuck a jacket that I don’t wear anymore.
I tried for almost an hour to get rid of an old (p)leather motorcycle jacket that absolutely doesn’t suit me but I love nonetheless. In the end I tucked it back in the closet, secure in the knowledge that I’ll go through the same dance with it the next time I do a clothes purge.
For the first time in years there is space in the closet. Which of course only served to remind me of the other clothes I want, but put off buying due to wedding related expenses (MEC jacket, plain black T’s, new pair of sports shorts and some replacement dri-fit)
I got rid of nearly two dozen T-shirts, some pitched callously overboard in a desperate bid to save my concert Ts, a double handful of socks, a lone pair of pants, and another lone pair of shorts and a couple long sleeved work shirts I no longer wear. They all went in a big black garbage bag for drop off at the closest Salvation Army. I even managed to chuck a jacket that I don’t wear anymore.
I tried for almost an hour to get rid of an old (p)leather motorcycle jacket that absolutely doesn’t suit me but I love nonetheless. In the end I tucked it back in the closet, secure in the knowledge that I’ll go through the same dance with it the next time I do a clothes purge.
For the first time in years there is space in the closet. Which of course only served to remind me of the other clothes I want, but put off buying due to wedding related expenses (MEC jacket, plain black T’s, new pair of sports shorts and some replacement dri-fit)
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