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I have watched and read your reviews for years with great honor. I disagree so strongly with your review of “Eat Pray Love” that it makes me sick. You just don’t get it, and many others like you don’t get it. You do not know at all what it is like being a woman in this day and age (or previously) who did not want to be defined by a man or married off to one. If you think Stephen in the movie was an OK husband, you are out to lunch. He was horrible!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (except on paper to people who do not need emotional sustenance). David was the narcissist from hell that many of us have fallen for… do you not get that??????????? Many of the males of the species are frankly overrated and the women’s movement has proven this (or frankly not sufficiently). I hope your wife will bring you up to speed. (Jeanine Carlson, Ph.D., Licensed Clinical Psychologist) |
✖ Via Roger Ebert.com: “You do not get that???????” by Roger Ebert, August 18, 2010 The quote is from a woman complaining to Roger Ebert about his review of Eat, Pray, Love. Somehow, I found interesting the fact that she’s a “Licensed Clinical Psychologist”. |
• Aug 20, 2010 link notes tagged:
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Another way of saying this, as Viktor Shklovsky did in his seminal 1916 essay, “Art as Technique,” is that art’s aim “is to make objects ‘unfamiliar,’ to make forms difficult, to increase the difficulty and length of perception.” Through difficulty, through impeded progress (rather than through predictability and velocity), art offers us a return to apprehension and thought. |
✖ Via The Quarterly Conversation, “DeLillo’s 24-hour psycho” by Lance Olsen, March 1st, 2010“Lance Olsen’s most recent novel is Head in Flames (Chiasmus, 2009). He teaches narrative theory and practice at the University of Utah.” |
• Apr 08, 2010 link notes tagged:
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Since the days of Un Chien Andalou and The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, filmmakers have reached beyond meaning. But with this summer’s biggest, loudest movie, Michael Bay takes us all the way inside Caligari’s cabinet. And once you enter, you can never emerge again. I saw this movie two days ago, and I’m still living inside it. Things are exploding wherever I look, household appliances are trying to kill me, and bizarre racial stereotypes are shouting at me. Transformers: ROTF has mostly gotten pretty hideous reviews, but that’s because people don’t understand that this isn’t a movie, in the conventional sense. It’s an assault on the senses, a barrage of crazy imagery. Imagine that you went back in time to the late 1960s and found Terry Gilliam, fresh from doing his weird low-fi collage/animations for Monty Python. You proceeded to inject Gilliam with so many steroids his penis shrank to the size of a hair follicle, and you smushed a dozen tabs of LSD under his tongue. And then you gave him the GDP of a few sub-Saharan countries. Gilliam might have made a movie not unlike this one. […] Michael Bay understands that summer movies are about two things: male anxiety, and pure id. That’s why he casts Shia LaBoeuf, that supreme avatar of pure male inadequacy, in the lead role. LaBoeuf projects a pathetic, wall-eyed dorkhood, when he’s not babbling like a tumor removed from Woody Allen’s prostate that somehow achieved sentience. I imagine the DVD of ROTF will include a whole disk of outtakes where they had to stop filming because LaBoeuf was drooling on camera. […] |
✖ Via BoingBoing / io9 : “Michael Bay Finally Made An Art Movie” by Charlie Jane Anders (Wed Jun 24 2009). |
• Jun 30, 2009 link notes tagged:
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