Movies

An arm with a tattoo: "I was made for the library, not the classroom."

The Village: Better Than the Reviews

The Village, much-maligned for not living up to M. Night Shyamalan's media-manufactured reputation for shocking twists, was actually a pretty good movie when judged on its own merits. An interesting, well-told story - not quite the allegory of a post-9/11 world some critics have suggested - it features what is arguably one of the most amazing debut performances by a young actress in Bryce Dallas Howard. There is no way in the world Kirsten Dunst, the original actress cast in the role, could have handled the part as the movie would have sunk on her frail, one-note shoulders. The twists,…

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An arm with a tattoo: "I was made for the library, not the classroom."

On Saturday, I lost my glasses on Nitro (the roller coaster at Great Adventure), a fitting epilogue to the tough lesson that was Friday's watershed louder than words show. I had low expectations for the Friday slot to begin with, but twenty-one paid in the audience - the majority of whom were supportive friends/co-workers from outside of the poetry scene and much of the extended Acentos family - was even worse than I'd expected. Glaringly absent were many of the usual suspects from the scene, or as one person put it, those most likely to be on the receiving end…

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An arm with a tattoo: "I was made for the library, not the classroom."

Between my internet connection at work being screwy all day and Blogspot.com seemingly on the blink, the post I started writing earlier was lost. It was about the difference between Batman and Superman and a comment director Wolfgang Petersen made about it. Petersen was apparently attached to a Batman vs. Superman movie that was scrapped in favor of separate movies. Can't say I'm disappointed. Petersen's also the director of the new movie, Troy, with Brad Pitt lamely delivering one of the corniest lines ever: "Immortality! It's yours. Take it!" No thanks, Brad. Between Gladiator and Return of the King, I…

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An arm with a tattoo: "I was made for the library, not the classroom."

a home abandoned long enough returns to its base components walls, windows, doors, floors and ceilings the sum becomes considerably less than its parts old books lean listlessly on shelves next to faded pictures of places long-forgotten, friends no longer familiar a film of dust covers them all the last mix tape from years ago hides at the bottom of the box at the back of the shelf in the closet never opened the dust on the doorknob is proof of its neglect we are more likely to pick at scabs than encourage healed wounds to remember the sting of…

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An arm with a tattoo: "I was made for the library, not the classroom."

Barbershop 2: Reconciling desire & familiarity, ideals & expectations

There's only been a handful of "black" movies that have struck me as having that certain something at their core that expressed a sincere love for the people it presented, warts and all, and this is one of them. The first Barbershop, Waiting to Exhale, Boyz N the Hood and Rosewood are some of the others that come to mind. There's an emotional honesty to each of them that transcends the archetypes they employ to tell their stories. Of course, that's all debatable but, in this instance, it's not the point.

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