Conversation between writers

A convo bw writers on collaboration, challenges of pub at the fringe, signal to noise, david Mack, neil Gaiman, gonzo & http://www.modernmythology.net/2013/03/a-question-of-art-aesthetic-and-body-of.html

Double Feature Double Dates

or Making The Most of a Crappy Economy

Let's face it: the economy sucks. Sucks to the point that suddenly, spending $12 for a ticket, $8 for parking, $15 for snacks, and $wayTooMuch for dinner has ceased to be an impulse night out has evolved into a major financial consideration. It's in times like these that video rentals and libraries become all the more important, and really, what better way is there to take our minds off an awful reality than with a couple of awful movies? To that end, I present my list of bad movie double features - one a week should keep you going well into blockbuster season, by which point hopefully you'll have saved enough for a night out.

Paul Verhoeven Misogyny Night (Total Recall and Showgirls)
Ah, the 90s - when nihilism was in and feminism was a dirty word. Sharon Stone basically treated her role in Total Recall as a warm-up for the more-coherant Basic Instinct, and Showgirls is...well, Showgirls. (Note: get the VIP edition if possible - the pop-up trivia track alone is worth the price of admission.)

Movie Monster Smackdown Night (King Kong vs Godzilla and Freddy vs Jason)
Icons will be icons, after all, whether they be the rubber-suited behemoths of the 60s or the latex-makeup goremeisters of the 80s. Just be careful you don't get both of these discs going at once, as I'm fairly certain a Fatal Fourway matchup between these titans would rip a whole in the fabric of spacetime.

Mass Media Will Kill You Night (Videodrome and Death Race 2000)
When you think about it, it isn't that big a leap from a UHF channel showing snuff films to a government-endorsed national obsession with gladitorial road rallies. This is the ultimate in meta message - TV won't just rot your brain, it will turn your very dismemberment into entertainment. Toss in the Max Headroom pilot (or better still the original BBC teleplay) as an appetiser if you can track down a copy.

Let's Sing About Eating Each Other Night (Sweeney Todd and Cannibal! The Musical)
It'd be a close vote as to whether Tim Burton or the creators of South Park are more divorced from what the rest of us call reality, and nowhere is that simple fact put on better display. That said, I dare you not to hum "Shpadoinkle" after all is said and done.

Road Trips From Hell Night (House of 1,000 Corpses and The Doom Generation)
You'd think it wouldn't take a genius to figure out that entering an off-the-beaten-path hillbilly hovel adjacent to a museum of serial killers might not be wise. Meanwhile, the next time you discover that every purcahse you make at a convenience store costs $6.66? Just turn around and go home. Even if you're hanging out with naked Rose McGowan.

The Bard Is Spinning In His Grave Night (Tromeo & Juliet and Strange Brew)
Shakespeare will serve as inspiration for new movies forever due to one simple fact: he's public domain. That said, it takes especially twisted minds to turn Romeo & Juliet into a lesbian-infused, Manhattan based Hatfield/McCoy feud - let alone to turn MacBeth into a Bob & Doug Macenzie brewery wet dream.

Can't Sleep, Doll Will Kill Me Night (Dead Silence and Child's Play)
All modern killer sculpture movies, of course, owe an inestimable debt to the classic Twilight Zone episode The Dummy. But each of these takes is a classic in its own way. For a lighter chaser, see the Buffy season 1 episode The Puppet Show.

Gotta Sing, Gotta Dance, Gotta Throw Shit At the Screen Night (The Rocky Horror Picture Show and Hedwig and the Angry Inch)
If you watch these alone in your living room, you're a loser. Yet if you spend countless hours to perfect a costume and hairdo, memorize ritualized call-and-response lines that sync to a years old script, and get together with a bunch of ther similarly-afflicted afficinados, you're part of a countercultural movement. Go figure.

Bonus, not-actually-bad-but-campy-as-hell theme:
Witty Dialogue-Based Comedy Night (Clue and The Princess Bride)
Campy, guilty pleasures at best, but I'll lay dollars to donuts that between them, these two movies account for most of the catchphrases spouted by any self-described movie buff under the age of 35. An entire generation of snarkers can't all be wrong, can they?

— Tovarich

More Oscar Predictions

Because I enjoy public humiliation, I thought it was time to throw my hat into the ring with my Oscar predictions. No need to share your Oscar pool winnings with me, as long as you don't blame me when you lose. When it's all over, in hindsight it might look predictable, but right now I'm having trouble guessing many of the categories (and Tovarich's insights only make things trickier).
Best Picture
The last award to be given out is, necessarily, the first one you should try to predict. Often, the most-nominated film turns out to be the Best Picture winner, but in this case, Slumdog Millionaire had no shot at being the most-nominated because of its no-name cast and inability to fit into some of the other technical categories. It's also the most loved, and most talked-about, film in just about every demographic.
WINNER: SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE
Best Actor
Richard Jenkins and Frank Langella are in the happy-to-be-nominated category, and Brad Pitt's performance was several steps below the others. I would have said that Mickey Rourke was a shoo-in a month ago, but he's been so overexposed and borderline embarassing on the talk show and tabloid circuits that I'm going to go with Sean Penn nailing his second Best Actor award. I bet the final totals will be close, though.
WINNER: SEAN PENN (MILK)
Best Supporting Actor
There are three things you can do that help you to win an Oscar. You can be one of the biggest, best-loved stars. You can give the best performance in the category. And you can die tragically during the year. Heath Ledger is the shooingest of shoo-ins.
WINNER: HEATH LEDGER (THE DARK KNIGHT)
Best Actress
Sentiment leans toward Kate Winslet, who has never won, but The Reader is so awful (and little-seen) that I don't see her being canonized in this role. People love Angelina Jolie, but they didn't like Changeling. Melissa Leo may have given the best performance, but there aren't enough votes for Frozen River. So it's between Anne Hathaway and Meryl Streep. Like the Acting category, this is a really tough call. I can see Anne Hathaway winning, as the Academy loves seeing young, beautiful and talented actresses up there. But Meryl Streep has only won two Oscars, and none since 1983. The fact that Doubt has four other nominations and Rachel Getting Married none should put her over the edge.
WINNER: KATE WINSLET (THE READER)
Best Supporting Actress
Doubt is going to split its votes, Marisa Tomei already won in this category, and Taraji P. Henson seemed to ride Benjamin Button's coattails. That leaves Penélope Cruz as the only possible winner, despite being in the least-watched film among the nominees.
WINNER: PENELOPE CRUZ (VICKY CRISTINA BARCELONA)
Best Animated Feature
Not only is Wall-E a shoo-in, its only competition is two light mainstream films. At least Waltz with Bashir might have provided some drama.
WINNER: WALL-E
Best Art Direction
Though these categories can look tricky, they can be among the easiest to predict. In this case, Benjamin Button not only has the most nominations, it has rich and complex settings throughout many different eras. This film is going to pick up a few consolation prizes.
WINNER: THE CURIOUS CASE OF BENJAMIN BUTTON
Best Cinematography
The academy loves big, sprawling epics, and it also loves to ride the coattails of whatever wins Best Picture. In this case, I'm going go with Slumdog Millionaire because it nicely balances both of these trends.
WINNER: SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE
Best Costume Design
Recent period pieces never win, and having elaborate costumes on the movie poster helps as well. So it would be hard for The Duchess to lose this one, even though nobody has seen the damn thing.
WINNER: THE DUCHESS
Best Directing
Only with rare exceptions does the director not match the film, so enjoy your moment in the sun Danny Boyle.
WINNER: DANNY BOYLE (SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE)
Best Documentary Feature
As fun as it would be to see Werner Herzog on stage, the most popular (and most stirring) documentary of the year was Man on Wire. Bonus points for being put together in the most traditional manner, full of talking heads and still photographs. Voters in this category don't like their boat to be rocked too much.
WINNER: MAN ON WIRE
Documentary Short Subject
Your guess is as good as mine. Sorry, there's no Holocaust film, unless you count The Conscience of Nhem En, which is about the victims of the Khmer Rouge. The one that's most unlike the others, and the most traditional, is The Witness: From the Balcony of Room 306, a film about the last living witness to MLK's assassination and, in the Academy's mind, a tribute to our new president of sorts. But seriously, who knows.
WINNER: SMILE PINKI
Best Editing
Usually this goes to the longest film, and the one that plays the most with chronology. Hello, did somebody say Benjamin Button?
WINNER: SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE
Best Foreign Film
Waltz with Bashir has been blowing people away, and has to be considered the front-runner.
WINNER: DEPARTURES
Best Makeup
Comes down to people voting for The Joker's memorable makeup and Benjamin Button's aging process. Will the fact that Button had so much character CGI affect the vote? Heck, even Hellboy could sneak in for a win. Flip a coin, I say. I'll go with The Dark Knight as a sentimental second vote for Heath.
WINNER: THE CURIOUS CASE OF BENJAMIN BUTTON
Best Original Score
With Slumdog Millionare getting so many Best Picture votes, and people remembering the music most of all, this should be a fairly easy pick.
WINNER: SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE
Best Original Song
Slumdog might split some votes, but the Peter Gabriel Wall-E tune is so awful that I think people will do the research to find out that Jai Ho is the boisterous closing-credits song that they hummed all the way home.
WINNER: JAI HO (SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE)
Best Animated Short
Pixar has never won this category automatically (only one win), and while Presto is a lot of fun, it also feels derivative of old Looney Tunes. Let's go with La Maison en Petits Cubes, which has the most unusual (yet elaborate) two-dimensional look.
WINNER: LA MAISON EN PETITS CUBES
Best Live Action Short
Toyland is the Holocaust short of the year, so let's go with that for old times' sake.
WINNER: TOYLAND
Best Sound Editing
Loud and poppy is better (this is the special effects category) so The Dark Knight should nail it.
WINNER: THE DARK KNIGHT
Best Sound Mixing
Sometimes the Academy has trouble differentiating between music, sound, and sound effects, so let's see if Slumdog Millionaire can ride its Best Picture coattails.
WINNER: SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE
Best Visual Effects
Benjamin Button sure was impressive, but The Dark Knight is the type of film that usually wins this category.
WINNER: THE CURIOUS CASE OF BENJAMIN BUTTON
Best Adapted Screenplay
Follow the lead: Slumdog Millionare will win, unless you're picking a different film for Best Picture.
WINNER: SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE
Best Original Screenplay
Quirky films usually get this category, and Mike Leigh is well-liked. But Milk is the only film among the five to be nominated for Best Picture, so it will probably get the most votes.
WINNER: MILK
Final tally: Slumdog 7 wins, Dark Knight 4, and nothing else with more than 2.
FINAL COUNT: SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE 8 OSCARS, BENJAMIN BUTTON 3 OSCARS, MILK 2 OSCARS, THE DARK KNIGHT 2 OSCARS

– David Gorgos

© TLA Entertainment Group

The Original Video-on-Demand

Photo: © Norman McGrath

Formerly the Museum of Television & Radio, The Paley Center has two locations (NY and LA) where anyone can view thousands of classic (and not so classic) TV shows at the flip of a switch. Queued up at a mainframe and beamed to individual sets, it not only predates Hulu and Comcast on-demand but surpasses them with the breadth of offerings. (YouTube may have millions of videos, but they're mostly on the DIY level rather than professional commercial productions).

My first visit there, during my early '90s collegiate era, I arrived armed with selections jotted down from pre-world-wide-web research, and instantly became one of the few to witness the only episode of "Turn On." Ahead of its time, yet also painfully unfunny, it took the rapid-fire gags of "Laugh-In" to an extreme postmodern level. Later shows like "Monty Python's Flying Circus" would crib such concepts ad sketches without beginnings or endings and credits shown out of order, while "Tim and Eric Awesome Show Great Job" would crib the ironic lack of punchlines... or intentionally unfunny ones. Best part of "Turn On"? The parade of headache commercials by the show's sponsor. Most appropriate.

Next up was the second, and final, episode of "You're in the Picture," Jackie Gleason's ill-fated game show. Reception was so bad that he cancelled the show in its second week, live on air. Rather than play the game, he pulled out a chair, fired up a cigarette or twenty, and ad-libbed a half hour of apologies for various failings throughout his career. No wonder he was so well-liked!

The great disadvantage to this collection, of course, is that you have to travel to one of the coasts to see it. There is a small amount online at www.paleycenter.org but it pales in comparison to other websites. So until Hulu, Netflix or your local cable company can offer such delicious rarities, video-on-demand will be left wanting in my book.

– David Gorgos

© TLA Entertainment Group

Revolutionary Road screwed at the Oscars? Not so fast...

(2008, 119 min) Revolutionary Road is, above all else, an exquisite example of that tired old adage: great books make bad films. Actually, a more accurate twist of the phrase, in this case, would be: great books make disappointing films. Not that they lacked effort but Sam Mendes and Kate Winslet have reduced a beautifully written, psychologically revealing tale of the two-headed dragon of lost romantic youth and the hopeless spiral into conformity into a histrionic and ultimately shallow acting exercise.

One is often remimded, when viewing this adaptation, of a one act play put on by Method-trained high school students who yell all their lines in a vain attempt to project the psychological complexities of their characters. Winslet, the driving force behind this adaptation, acquits herself the most. She has moments when April Wheeler's damaged psyche actually bubbles to the surface and punches the audience in the gut. But, too often, her scenes with co-star Leonardo DiCaprio feel like a toe-to-toe acting bout, one in which DiCaprio is getting bounced all over the ring. Aside from the film's inability to even scratch the novel's depths of character insight, DiCaprio's performance is the most disappointing thing about the film. Having re-established his acting chops with exceptional performances in The Departed and Blood Diamond, he thoroughly regresses, making his Frank Wheeler into a callous mook who never demonstrates just what it was that made everyone think he was so special. He screams nearly all of his lines and affects an accent more suitable to a suporting player on "The Sopranos" than the once-Byronesque, disaffected salaryman that Yates detailed so beautifully.

Not everything about Revolutionary Road is a disaster. Roger Deakins' cinematography is lushly lit and perfectly composed (and exactly what one would expect from award-bait) and Tariq Anwar's editing occasionally takes a stab at quietly making points... at least, that is, when the actors stop shouting at each other for long enough for a subtle, poignant cut to register. Thomas Newman's music, however, is an embarrassment to film composers everywhere. It's as if he and Mendes got together to discuss whether the score should emphasize the action on-screen or run in counterpoint to it, but never came to a decision. Frankly, the score could've been lifted from any pathetic attempt by an indie arm of a major studio to grab a few golden trophies made in the last ten years.

Perhaps the saddest effect of this production is that those who haven't read the novel will be left with the work as a shallow, melodramatic and, above all else, clichéd tale of an unhappy couple in the midst of a tragic spiral. Those who see this film and leave the novel on the shelf, or worse, try to read the novel but can't escape the visions of DiCaprio and Winslet desperately screaming at each other will be cheated out of the experience of enjoying one of the twentieth century's greatest novels.

– Daniel Reed

© TLA Entertainment Group

Oscar the Grouch

I saw 7 in theaters, this year. I think that's a new personal best.

I should qualify that. I don't really have the same taste, personally, as the Academy; I tend to watch movies in theaters specifically because they demand a giant screen and kicking sound system, less because they're objectively good movies. I suffer from no illusions that My Bloody Valentine 3D will get an award (though it's a damn fun little film if you're in any way a fan of 80s slashers) but I'd rather pay 30 bucks to see that than, say, Doubt (with dialogue that Merchant & Ivory would have found overwrought and costumes that would make the History Channel blush). So it's unusual for me to have that much overlap with the stuff that actually gets nominated. Whatever, that's what DVDs are for.

BEST ACTOR
Who Will Win - Sean Penn, because California's anti-gay Prop 8 will be fresh in the minds of the Hollywood Elite.

Who Should Win - Mickey Rourke. The Wrestler was not a happy movie by any stretch, but it's unquestionably one of the best performances of Rourke's career.

BEST SUPPORTING ACTOR
Who Will Win - Heath Ledger. Even if he was still alive, it was a riveting performance, easily the best in The Dark Knight.

Who Should Win - Honestly? Heath Ledger. Sucks to be Robert Downey Jr.; against just about anyone else he'd get it, but Ledger really pulled out all the stops.

BEST ACTRESS
Who Will Win - Meryl Streep. Doubt is An Important Movie™ and Streep is An Important Actress™.

Who Should Win - Meh. Hollywood is never known for giving women good roles in general, but this year was particularly uninspired on this front.

BEST SUPPORTING ACTRESS
Who Will Win - Someone other than Marisa Tomei, so who cares.

Who Should Win - Marisa Tomei, for committing completely to an unflattering role and making it come to life. Pity that our culture punishes sex workers.

BEST ORIGINAL SCREENPLAY
Who Will Win - This one's a tough call, but I'm gonna give the edge to Wall-E. With the first half hour being dialog free, it would have been easy to make missteps, but they pulled it off with grace and aplomb.

Who Should Win - Don't get me wrong, Wall-E is a work of art and a milestone for the ages, but In Bruges deserves at least an honorable mention here.

BEST ADAPTED SCREENPLAY
Who Will Win - Another tough call because none of them stand out as the obvious choice. I'm gonna go out on a limb and say Slumdog Millionaire, with no "who SHOULD win" entry because, frankly, none seemed especially better than the others.

BEST ANIMATED FEATURE
Wall-E. Period.

BEST DIRECTING
Who Will Win - Danny Boyle for Slumdog. Of the five picks, Slumdog is the only one that shows a real variety in directing styles and manages to still remain coherent as a picture.

Who Should Win - Jon Favreau for Iron Man. (Hey, I can dream, can't I?)

– Tovarich

Of Golden Globes and Undead Trollops

Poor Marissa Tomei. Despite giving a bold and provocative performance in The Wrestler, she got screwed out of a Golden Globe because she forgot one of Hollywood's cardinal rules: in much the way that the Academy doesn't reward those who go full retard, mainstream actressess aren't supposed to actually strip. Just ask Elizabeth Berkeley, who committed career suicide with Showgirls; or Jessica Alba, who kept her bra on in Sin City and lived to tell about it; or Demi Moore, who went from playing an empowered, self-actualized ecdysiast in Striptease to a brutalized sexual assault victim in GI Jane. There is a corollary to this rule, however, which is that "exotic dancer" is one of the few roles an adult actress is allowed to portray in the main(ish)stream cinema world. Thus we get Jenna Jameson in Zombie Strippers, the most ambitious exploitation flick you never saw.

At once political satire and titty flick, Zombie Strippers is set in a dystopian near-future in which the religious right and now four-term president George W. Bush have made sex so socially unacceptable that strip clubs have been driven completely underground. A soldier infected with a government-created disease wanders into one, infecting the star dancer. What follows is a 90 minute examination of philosophy, the meaning of life and death, and the obligatory stripping and gore sequences such a premise would demand - and this is likely the only review i ever expect to write where a sentence like that is recorded without a trace of irony.

The zombie plague, you see (it's always a plague these days - an infections disease with a well understood, bodily-fluid-based transmission vector, with no known cure and an unavoidable conclusion; it's zombies that are the cultural allegory to AIDS, not vampires) only turns male victims into the classic Romeroesque shamblers with no soul or vocabulary. Women, meanwhile, retain their intelligence, and gain new powers of speed, strength, and dexterity, accompanied by a lack of fear and incredible unstoppability. The only drawbacks: the slow but inevitable decay of the flesh and an insatible hunger for brains. This means the resultant undead super stripper has essentially unlimited earning potential until she eats her customers, a fact exploited by club owner Robert "Freddy Kruger" Englund, playing against type as a germophobic queen in a performance that has to be seen to be believed.

Though never seeking to rise above a b-movie chuckler, Zombie Strippers actually plays lip service to some fairly complex ideals about the meanings of life and death. The goth dancer, for instance, is fascinated by the state of undeath and longs to experience it for herself; Jameson reads Focault and isn't afraid to drop the names of his theories; the farmer's daughter and her boyfriend grapple with the meaning of existence and whether or not God exists. It's not Shakespeare, but it suggests that the writer and director at least had a search engine and weren't afraid to use it. The script does tend to bog a touch with refereneces that don't really go anywhere, but let's face it - with a title like Zombie Strippers, are you really here for the dialog?

At the end of the day, this is in many ways your basic low-budget camp fest that fails to hit the legendary level of badness necessary to become a cult classic, but is entertaining on its own merits. The acting is over the top as it should be, the stripping is entheusiastic and well-shot, the effects are silly but show continuity, and the film makes just enough zombie oeuvre references to work. You even get a commentary track with both Englund and Jameson, which is almost worth the price of admission alone. The real question is whether Jameson can rise from the death of her adult film career as an undead Julie Strain.

– Tovarich

Award Fatigue

Ratings for all awards shows have been slipping for years, so this isn't exactly a new concept. But even around the TLA offices, where awards-season buzz has continued unabated through thick and thin, the apathy has become palpable. To wit: Not a single Golden Globes party has been scheduled by any of our employees. And I'm not even upset about it Why is this happening?

• Celebrity Culture Used to be, the news was full of news, and only the occasional variety or talk show would delve into the movie business. Now, the movies are the news, and celebrities from Angelina Jolie to Kevin James are overexposed even before their movies are released. Shows like The Oscars were your chance to see them with their guards down, as real (yet undeniably fabulous) people. No more.
• Everyone's a Critic Do I really need the Golden Globes to confirm that Slumdog Millionare is a fucking great picture? I've already had 20 people tell me I need to see it. Hell, the homeless guy down the street hasn't been to a movie in three decades and even he's telling me to go see it.
• Too. Many. Awards. I'm not talking about Cinematography and Editing, which are actually among my favorites. I'm talking about the Indie Awards, the Film Critic Circle Awards, the Extradited Eskimo Awards. Half the awards are doled out before the films even play in Philly! I think the reason the Golden Raspberry Awards (pictured above) are gaining in popularity is because it's the only organization doing something different than the rest.
• Time's Up Comics like to joke about the epic length of the Oscars, but somehow back in the '70s, they got the show done an hour earlier, with full dance and song numbers, and no need to cut off the speeches early. The speeches are the best part! Honestly, I look at old broadcasts and I can't tell what they're doing differently. Yesterday I listened to The Beatles on my iPod and "Eleanor Rigby" clocks in at 2 minutes and 2 seconds. Oasis can't even get to the first lyric by then. Time used to be more precious.

That said, I'm sure I'm going to be on my couch on Sunday night, watching the stars get drunk during the Globes. But it feels more like an obligation than a joy. Would I even be watching if I didn't still work in the industry? Are you watching?

– David Gorgos

© TLA Entertainment Group

This Is Your Brain On Anime: Paprika

There is a story of the Chinese sage Zhuangzi that goes:

"Once Zhuangzi dreamt he was a butterfly, a butterfly flitting and fluttering around, happy with himself and doing as he pleased. He didn't know he was Zhuangzi. Suddenly he woke up and there he was, solid and unmistakable Zhuangzi. But he didn't know if he was Zhuangzi who had dreamt he was a butterfly, or a butterfly dreaming he was Zhuangzi. Between Zhuangzi and a butterfly there must be some distinction! This is called the Transformation of Things."

Though on its face this may seem an almost childish idea to most, if you have ever experienced a lucid dream, or if you really pay any attention at all to your inner life, you may come to realize that there is truth to it. What is more, there is a real terror that can accompany realizing that the ground we stand on, at least figuratively speaking, is not solid. All experience is simply experience, whether it involves balancing your checkbook or talking to the monk levitating above a colossal, marching procession of cymbal-crashing frog men.

Many movies have dealt with this idea. (The Science of Sleep and Vanilla Sky are the first two that come to mind that do it any justice, but there are many more.) However, few have done it with such a brilliant flare for the surreal as Satoshi Kon's Paprika. Like his previous film, Perfect Blue (review here), the animation is top notch, and the script solid, though even the best animes tend to be a little stilted in translation. He also utilizes many of the same techniques in both movies, including breaking that fourth wall nearly every scene. In the case of Paprika, these techniques are being applied for a different purpose, and I would say they are done somewhat more gracefully.

However, the genius of Paprika lies in the sheer inspired weirdness that exists in the realms of consciousness between waking and deep, dreamless coma. There is a certain logic to dreams, which tends to only make sense within the context of the dream itself- while dreaming it makes perfect sense that you are talking to a fox, while underwater, that is somehow both your mother and your dead future self at the same time. Whenever we wake up and try to recount our dreams to friends, they oftentimes sound foolish for this reason. It really is true that you "had to be there." Paprika succeeds at dealing with these realms, bringing us there without it feeling too forced. (Unlike your stereotypical dream sequences where the director is like "it needs to be weird. Get a smoke machine and find us a midget!")

Though I will admit I have not (yet) read it, I would imagine much of this influence comes from Yasutaka Tsutsui's novel that the movie was based on. On the strangeness scale, between Full House and Naked Lunch, this movie is definitely a trip to Interzone.

So if "off the beaten path" is your thing, and you haven't taken the trip yet, I suggest you strap yourself in for quite a ride. Just don't be surprised if you have some really strange dreams afterwards.

--James Curcio.

Excuse Me... Who Are You?

In a world where we are expected to play a variety of conflicting roles, in which our lives are all interconnected, broadcast and dissected, we invariably develop situational identities. We are not one person, we are many people who go by the same name.

Though all of us deal with this in varying ways as we go through life, nowhere is it more of an issue than in pop culture. The long list of psychologically and emotionally fractured ex-teen stars is ample proof. "Who are you?" Mima, the central character in Perfect Blue, asks of herself. It is her first line in our 'play within a play.' It is a question that really seeks no answer, instead expressing the complete lack of a frame of reference.

Just a decade after its release some of the devices of this film may now seem old - websites pretending to portray the 'real life' of pop idols, obsessive paparazzi, frothing J-pop fans - however, many of the questions explored by Perfect Blue remain as vital as ever. In fact, it is possible they have become even more so as the line between reality and fiction continues to blur.

Britney Spears vs. Perfect Blue -- Mashup

In many ways this movie seems downright prophetic. To the Myspace Generation, everything is either performance, or irrelevant. If you can't photograph, blog, videotape or otherwise record something, it may as well not have happened. I'm sure you've heard this before: A.D.D. running rampant in our children, cultish obsession with actresses that only recently got their periods, on and on. I'm not about to contribute to all of that alarmist noise.

However, it is rare that we take a step back and think about how all of these things are symptoms of underlying identity crisis, a crisis that actually transcends most of our other sexual, cultural or racial boundaries. The teen idol, acting out the pre-scripted, cut-out role, and their screaming fans are united in their lack of intrinsic identity. The former plays to the expectant dreams of the latter, yet neither of them actually are that illusion. When it shatters, there is nothing there. Playing to the expectation of a lover is ultimately no different than playing to the hopes of the audience. It is all acted in the mirror.

Is she Mima the pop star? Mima the actress? Mima the shy girl who loves her tetra fish? Unless if pantomiming is all it takes, the answer is "no." She is none of the above.

Sure, there are several things about Perfect Blue that don't quite hit the mark. The film-makers probably could have made their point without busting the 4th wall every couple minutes once the film gets rolling. It also may have gone further if Mima's actress-persona developed an actual personality of its own.

However, despite its occasional stylistic heavy-handedness, this movie is positively brilliant for it's ability to deal with the 'heavy' themes of identity and cultural expectation without being a 'heavy' movie. (It doesn't hurt that the animation has the ambiance and grace of older classic anime's such as Akira.)

"Who are you?" Mima asks herself, never really finding an answer. Everyone in the film is united in their desire to be this perfect idol. This is the reality Perfect Blue gives us a glimpse of, although you see it anytime you turn on the television. Japanese or American, all of our cultures seem to meet at this crossroad: we are a planet of voyeurs.

This was a syndicated review first run on Alterati. Next up, I'll be running an original review of another film by Satoshi Kan, Paprika.

• Order Perfect Blue on TLAvideo.com.
• Interview with Satoshi Kon, Director of Perfect Blue.

--James Curcio.