"Termite art par excellence"

Over at The Village Voice, Nathan Lee geeks out over Zodiac. I've said it before, I'll keep saying it: David Fincher is our greatest working American director. What with the move and such, I didn't make it to any screenings of this, but this Friday, you know where I'll be.

Pitchfork...

...is wrong. The White Flight record is pretty dang good.

Craptastic

I finally got around to watching Fantastic Four tonight. It's so bad it's not even worth making fun of. It's just a piece of crap. I used to love the Fantastic Four as a kid. At least Sam Raimi's doing Spider-Man 3.

Also, I have to say: HDTV is, if anything, underrated. Really.

Me, the Oscars, CBS News

I know you all already read my column on the American Film Renaissance and the Oscars, but in case you want to read it again, CBS News reprinted it on their website today.

Best Coffee Shop Name Ever

As I was walking around the neighborhood today, I spotted a tiny, underdecorated, hipsterish coffee shop with what may be my favorite name for a tiny, underdecorated, hipsterish coffee shop: Lonelytimes Coffee.

It doesn't really get any more perfect than that.

Me on the movies at NRO

I've got a piece on the Oscars and a new conservative film poll at NRO today. Here's a starter.

On Sunday night, Hollywood will roll out the red carpet and rev up their limousines for the 79th Annual Academy Awards. The four-hour long nationally televised ceremony gives us what is perhaps Tinseltown’s most honest depiction of itself — by which I mean the most glitzy, ditzy, and shamelessly shallow. At their core, the Oscars are a way for the movie industry to publicly congratulate itself for its brilliance and generosity — for really, who needs attention more than movie stars?

New York Livin'

I arrive in New York, disconnected and discombobulated, and, after two days, finally find an internet cafe, only to realize that, in addition to missing two full days of news and blogging... I've missed two full days of TNR's Oscar blog. What next? Truthfully, I don't even want to know.

At least I'm pretty through with the boxes.

PS -- It's a very, very odd experience to go without internet for two days. Not only is it mildly panic-inducing for a news junkie like me to lose all track of the hour-to-hour developments of the news/blog cycle, it's sort of shocking to realize how much I rely on the net for basic information--where stores are located, driving directions, coffee shop open and close times, directions on how to put together prefab furniture. I'm sure this is somewhat exacerbated by the whole moving-to-a-strange city thing (I probably know only slightly more about New York than I know about astrophysics), but still: the internet is seriously like my second brain.

_______ in a box

You know, sometimes I forget what a pain moving is. And then I move again. Honestly, I never want to see another box in my life.

And I'm not even done packing yet.

New Me

I've got a quick review of Ghost Rider (way worse than you thought possible) over at The Corner, and I've also got a piece up on the Bush administration's recent promise to veto card check legislation.

The Circus Returns

I've got a piece on the Democrats' return to power in Congress at NRO today.

King's Dominion

Saw The Last King of Scotland, finally. It's been out here in D.C. since October, but the stars have been aligned against me seeing it--until now. The script is smart, naturalistic, always moving without ever feeling like the scenes were being dragged by the plot tractor (though I preferred Peter Morgan's screenplay for The Queen). Kevin MacDonald's direction was also sharp: lots of topsy turvy hand-held camera work and yellowed film stock to give the piece an aged documentary feel. Mostly, though, he had the smarts to get out of the way and let Forest Whitaker rage and bellow his way through the film. With all the hype surrounding Whitaker's performance, I was expecting to be disappointed, but it's every bit as good as you've heard, maybe better. The range, the naturalism, the quick shifts of tone; if I hadn't seen Whitaker in any number of other movies, I'd be convinced that the guy was some sort of manic menace. The decision to show actual photos of Amin at the end was smart; Whitaker looks eerily like him. McAvoy did a nice job as the flip young idealist who must face up to the hard truth, but this is Whitaker's movie all the way.

Dude-ity

This really is the reason we have Ain't It Cool. (Warning, vulgarity, but I promise, it's completely worth it.) Neill Cumpston is the Joe Bob Briggs of the new millennium.

Mine Your Own Business

I'm in NRO today with a piece on the independently distributed documentary Mine Your Own Business, which examines the distortions made about the mining industry by fringe environmentalists:

The environmental movement is clearly afraid of this film, and it should be. Mine Your Own Business, Irish filmmaker Phelim McAleer’s clear-eyed look at the true impacts of mining and the nefarious tactics of its opponents, exposes the self-satisfied delusions of the environmental Left, putting lie to a host of deadly, anti-growth canards and revealing the smug elitism of many green advocates.

All three people who care about such things may notice that there’s a change in the title/tagline at the end of the piece. As of not too long ago, I’m with NRO full time as managing editor, and sometime in the next month, I’ll be moving up to New York to work from NR’s office there.

My "Me-ness"

And the award for the most insane, most unbelievably narcissistic, un-self conscious, buffoonish interview subject in history goes to. . . internet dating blog celebrity and Gawker gossip fave Eric Shaeffer in this Salon interview by Rebecca Traister.

I submit that I'm no different from 99 percent of everybody. The only difference is that I acknowledge that I have these feelings. I [want] someone who is unconditionally supportive of me in my me-ness.

Nothing to say, really, except. . . wow.

Two Brief Notes

Julian Sanchez asks the question of the day:

I'm resigned to the fact that lots of artists I like are going to have politics I find distasteful, but seriously, do the best hip-hop groups have to be f'ing Marxists?

And while you ponder that, let me just note that I've entered the fray and am now blogging over at NRO's the Corner. If this space looks barren over coming days, well, you know why.

Can She Be Stopped? Probably.

While I certainly respect the Podhoretz theory, I think the Hillary-is-inevitable theory is pretty weak, and, in fact, easily defeated, as Jonathon Chait amply demonstrates. Added to this, of course, is the wonderful absurdity that Obama is polling better amongst women than Hillary, while Hillary is polling better amongst blacks than Obama. And although I find Ross's theory, in which Gore flies in, Han Solo style, to steal the nomination after Obama, Edwards, and Hillary all prove unpalatable, somewhat plausible, the idea that Edwards might actually beat Obama and Hillary is, as Ross notes, pretty far fetched. So who's it going to be for the Dems? Perhaps this will forever prohibit me any future chance at entry into the swanky pundit clubs, but I just don't think it's useful to speculate at this point. In six months, maybe. In ten months, absolutely. But for now, the whole thing is just a glorious spectacle of wonk and punditry--and I plan to sit back and enjoy every bit of it. Repeat after me: ten months is a long time.

For the D.C. Nerds

The Philips Collection here in D.C. is about to start what looks to be a pretty wonderful exhibit: American Art and Early Film. From the description:

This exhibition will present American realist painting from the late 19th and early 20th centuries side-by-side with the earliest experiments in film. Approximately 100 works, including nearly 60 short films (a few minutes long) by Thomas Edison, the Lumière Brothers, and the Cinémathèque Française, along with works by American masters such as George Bellows, William Merritt Chase, Thomas Eakins, Maurice Prendergast, and John Sloan, will provide a new context for looking at the artists’ choice and presentation of subject matter. For the first time, film will be fully integrated into the history of American art.

Not sure if I'll make it what with the impending move, but if you're around, go! And if you haven't already made plans to check out the Stanley Kubrick retrospective at AFI, well, what are you waiting for?

Planes, Trains, and Automobiles

I went up to New York to apartment hunt this weekend, just a single day trip: took the train from Union Station in the morning, came back in the evening. There's something incredibly peaceful about the train. It's quieter than an airplane. You're likely to have a full bench to yourself. The view is nicer, and there are outlets to plug in your laptop or charge your cellphone. It is exactly as comfortable as movies and books suggest that riding a train should.

But there's more to it than just physical pleasantry. It's a calming experience. It's like a massage; it lifts away stress. You sit down, open up your book or your magazine, and for a few hours, you're set. You know exactly where you're going, exactly how long it will take to get there, and for the duration of the trip, your job is simply to occupy yourself. There is a sense of purpose to it—going from place to place for whatever reason—and yet there is also the sense of burdens relieved, of being away from the expectations and uncertainties of regular existence, as you know that for the next few hours, nothing is required of you except to be. It's like a miniature vacation, a time out, if you will, a designated period of time where the only structure is that which is dictated by your location. Yet it is better than a vacation, because in the end you get somewhere; you accomplish something; you serve a purpose.

Ideological Journalism

Ezra Klein: in favor of capitalism after all. (Okay, okay, he's always been in favor of some tempered version of it.)

Anyway, he makes an interesting point about the paucity of work for full time ideological journalists:

It's very hard, however, to make a living being a conscientious, opinionated, progressive writer. And the problem is basic: There are very few outlets. Think about it. You want to get a full-time job as a liberal pundit-type. Where do you apply? Well, The American Prospect, of course. The Nation too. In These Times really doesn't have any money, and The Washington Monthly has a skeletal staff. I guess you could try The New Republic, but that bridge is charred and smoking. Oh, and Salon, and I'm sure a couple more I'm forgetting.

Not one of those outlets turns a profit. Not one employs more than a dozen writers. Between them, you're looking at fewer than (I'd guess) 30 full-time liberal writing positions, and half of those are at TNR.

I might put the number a little higher by counting journalists who, say, work for environmental magazines like Grist or other more narrowly focused publications with a distinctly liberal bent. And while we're at it, let's throw in Harper's and Mother Jones and maybe even the numerous editorial page writing spots that stick almost exclusively to liberal views, just for the sake of completeness. And if you want to be even more generous, you can add a few think tank type positions that exist primarily to fund progressive writing of some sort. But even still, this number is pretty small in the grand scheme of things, and his basic point stands: It is indeed difficult to make a living as a full time, explicitly progressive journalist, just as it's not always easy to make a living as a full time, explicitly conservative journalist.

However, the difference I see is that liberals have more outlets for, if not explicitly liberal, then soft liberal journalism--the sort of "objective" and/or "mainstream" journalism that doesn't declare its biases but, however subtly, pushes a left leaning viewpoint. And no matter what, there are simply more liberal-leaning journalists working in today's newsrooms. As poll after poll has shown, members of the news media tend to self-identify as liberal by a pretty wide margin, meaning that even if there aren't always a huge number of outlets devoted to ardently liberal journalism, there are plenty of opportunities for liberal journalists.

No, Spengler, I won't admit it

Spengler's column on why you really hate modern art is pretty funny, and probably sort of accurate for a lot of folks, but I can't say that I'm one of them. I actually do like the stuff, just as I actually like atonal experimental music (though I'm not particularly into atonal orchestral music). Of course, neither can I say that I'm exactly "a decent, sensible sort of person without a chip on [my] shoulder against the world." (I'm working on it though. Honest.)

Really, I think the difference for the modern/abstract art and music lover, or at least for me anyway, is that while most people experience art and music in a fairly surface, sensory manner, and therefore gravitate, quite reasonably, toward art that's comfortable and pleasant feeling, I tend to experience art from a far more argumentative, analytical perspective. Most people prefer stuff that calms the senses; I, and a minority of other cantankerous folks (many of whom tend to be critic-types) prefer material that riles the mind. This is often a source of frustration for critic types who feel that everyone should follow their experience, and although I don't propose a solution, it does seem to me that critics and others of similar disposition should generally refrain from castigating general audiences for not getting something. (Other critics, however, are fair game.)