Remembering Michael, 1958-2009

When I bought tickets to the Michael Jackson concert in London, I was incredibly excited because I was going to be in the midst of a cultural icon, a world-wide legend, The Man and probably most important, The Myth. As we remember Michael Jackson on this day and in the future, I can't help but emphasize how the idea of memory is so crucial to our conception of star identity and ultimately how timelessness can be used a signifer of stardom.

In many ways, Jackson existed outside of time and within the cultural imagination of society. The Michael that has passed on today is not the Michael that we are mourning. We feel an incredible loss of the young and vibrant boy on the Ed Sullivan show singing and dancing with the Jackson Five, the innovative dance moves, Thriller, the essence of a global entertainer. We also remember the scandal...the whirlwind erratic behavior, the lawsuits, the courtrooms, a tragic star's Peter Pan syndrome.

In the midst of all of this, we are left with an unfinished picture of Jackson--his life gone, but his narrative still very much alive. There will be stories, many stories, written about the media talent, anecdotes shared, but we will never know his "truth." Fragments of his self will tried to be pieced together but Jackson will remain an enigma, a star whose celebrity and fame is so surreal that any authentic image of him will always seem to escape our grasp.

The Sweet Little Film that Could

I wanted to see Away We Go for two main reasons: 1.) I'm a sucker for movies about babies and/or pregnancy and 2.) I'm a sucker for the rom-com genre. And the film did not disappoint me on either front. Think of it as the adult version of Juno without the witty Diablo Cody dialogue. Director Sam Mendes leaves behind the kind of suburban dysfunction that makes you want to kill yourself (found in Revolutionary Road and American Beauty) to take on the more whimsical side of family and romance. In a surprisingly heartfelt and honest turn, Maya Rudolph shined as Verona, a woman who finds herself unexpectedly pregnant and on a (mis)adventure to find a place called home with her adorably dorky boyfriend, Burt (John Krasinski). The couple galavant around the country--and even to Canada--trying on different cities to find the right fit. Along the way, they connect with old friends and family that are just off kilter enough to make you want to hightail it to the next destination. A particularly entertaining vignette highlights Maggie Gyllenhaal as a hippie professor who has a strong aversion to strollers.

In some ways, the film's destination-framed narrative makes it seem a little stilted. Cuts to text on a black screen signaling a location change ("Away to Phoenix", "Away to Miami") get old pretty quickly. It also makes the ending incredibly anti-climatic. But what we're really supposed to get out of the film is a couple's love for each other despite future uncertainty and it has that in spades. Verona and Burt are not only believable characters, but Maya and John have great on-camera chemistry. Though the film reads through its marketing as a pretentious indie flick, it is only half that. The rest is a slightly slow-paced, enjoyable drama about life and love.

The Hangover or Why White Boys Rule

Credit: themovingpicture.net

Yesterday I went to the movies to see Disney Pixar's latest achievement, Up. It was a great film albeit a tad depressing--in only a Pixar project can a story about a lonely curmudgeon's search for life after the death of his wife, be woven into a delightful tale of fun and adventure complete with robotic talking dogs and a loud and colorful bird.

But I digress.

After the movie, my friends and I snuck into The Hangover. Directed by Todd Phillips of Old School and Road Trip fame, the film focuses on the same subject: reckless white boys doing...well nothing actually. It follows engaged Doug (Justin Bartha) who ventures to Las Vegas for the bachelor party of a lifetime with his pals Alpha-Male Phil (Bradley Cooper), geeky Stu (Ed Helms) and his fiance's stoner brother, Alan (Zach Galifianakis). However, when they accidentally take Rohypnol and wake up the next morning in their lavish Las Vegas pad, it is trashed complete with a crying baby, tiger, and a missing groom-to-be. The movie proceeds to use all of the conventions of a road trip/buddy film as the friends laughably attempt to retrace the steps of their eventful night to find Doug.

So that's the plot. And as far as plots go for gross-out guy comedies, it was engaging and I lost the right amount of brain cells while viewing. But as I sat there with my two black male friends in the darkened theater, I realized why I was simultaneously completely entertained yet disgusted with this film and others like it. I call it the effect of the Ethnography of the White Male: See White Boy jump. See White Boy run. See him completely screw up and spend lots of money because White Boy doesn't have a care in the world. See all of this to the soundtrack of Kanye, Usher, and other Hip Hop/RnB tunes. To be the token Angry Black Female, it irked me that the movie transposed urban culture onto the narrative of these overprivileged white boys. It also irked me that every supporting character on their hapless adventure was a minority (whether it be by race or gender) that was completely Other-ed against the frat boy smiles and antics of the white male leading characters. True to patriarchal form, nothing is ever their fault really...it is stupid black drug dealer who inadvertently gives them roofies. A stripper who accidentally marries one of our heroes. And a queered Asian guy that turns their life into a living hell because he wants his "purse" back. In the end, our lovable white boys save the day and equilibrium is restored into their lives.

Am I completely over-analyzing all of this? Of course. But that's what I do. And the degree to which everything was so blatant in this particular movie actually amazed me--so much that the movie was actually hilarious. I'm not going to recommend paying money to see it though. Wait for the DVD where there is sure to be an extra-extra special uncut version.