#025 - A Serious Man (2009)

Director: Joel & Ethan Coen

Writer: Joel & Ethan Coen

Runtime: 105 min.

I have to be honest. I needed a little bit of help with this one. I'm about as big a Coen Brothers fan as there is--I've seen all of their writing/directing credits with the exception of 1985's formerly Sam Raimi-helmed Crimewave and the vignette compilation To Each His Own Cinema--but I wasn't immediately able to pick up on what exactly made this movie so clever or charming. So I took to the reviews. I pulled up Metacritic and browsed, read a few and tried to gauge what the general reaction was to this one. To be blunt, it sounds like a lot of critics thought this film was hilarious but can't really explain why.

Hmm.

Have the Coens so thoroughly outdone themselves year in and year out that now people take for granted the fact that their films are going to be fantastic? I found The Ladykillers to be a bit of a throw away marked by an absurd Tom Hanks spawn and Burn After Reading to be generally goofy but largely unmemorable. Otherwise, look at the list--Fargo, No Country For Old Men, The Big Lebowski, Barton Fink, Raising Arizona--upon presenting these titles to a couple friends of mine, their jaws just dropped continually further: "They did ALL of those?!" I even told them straight out that I didn't particularly know what the story was behind A Serious Man but I knew it was the Coens so I was going anyway. It wasn't the eye-opening experience that seeing No Country For Old Men was, but I certainly wasn't disappointed. Judging from the landscape of professional reviews, however, I'm not so sure if critics aren't just lapping up the Coen Kool-Aid without giving it a second thought.

And I kind of think they know this.

The story centers on Larry Gopnik (renowned theatre actor Michael Stuhlbarg), a college professor whose life seems to be heading right into the crapper. His wife wants a divorce, his children are insufferable brats, and his brother moves in and blankets his house with multiple legal and medical issues. He's even being blackmailed by a physics student and heckled by an anonymous opponent to his tenure review. There are tons of negative things going on, but they are handled in a very realistic and subtle fashion, and Stuhlbarg expertly absorbs them all with a near constant expression of "you've got to be shitting me".

More than anything, after the movie was over, while trying to collect my thoughts, I kept looping through one specific concept: Here's a movie where the Coens grab us by the collar and say, "We're going to mess with your head, and make you feel what we want you to feel." They were flexing their filmmaking muscles. And not just for you to "ooo" and "aah" over, but rather for you to be pulled along for the ride and whipped in any direction they so choose. One review I saw made a strange claim that it was a comedy film that was shot and scored as if it was horror. Strange, that is, until after I saw the movie, at which point I decided, "Holy crap they're right." With lots of angled close-ups and slow camera movement, and slow, deliberate motions by the actors, they created a really tense atmosphere even though the story was easily one that they could have made into a slapstick comedy. It seemed like a forceful hand--"We know how to make you feel dread, so we'll make you feel dread." As far as I'm concerned, it worked to a T. There was something ominous sort of bubbling along underneath the storyline, I felt uncomfortable, I felt like the story was going to rip apart at its seams and spiral out of control. But instead of spiraling, it was more of a merry-go-round, slowly bobbing its way around and around, coming to enough points of equilibrium to make you think that there was going to be a final resolution (or--look away!--a happy ending).

The movie definitely puts the Coen Brothers' strong grasp of suburban society on full display, maybe even more so than any of their previous films (though Fargo and Raising Arizona were quite sharp). Usually, I feel like their stories involve characters or actions that are quite out of the ordinary, and maybe that's what some people dislike about this movie--that nothing spectacular is going on, that we can all identify with his life and sympathize with him without being tickled by voyeurism of the extravagant. I was particularly fond of Larry's interactions with Sy Ableman (Fred Melamed), the man for whom his wife has chosen to leave. Just watching him being forced to sit down and talk about the logistics of a separation and remarriage gave me a bit of a burning sensation in my chest, sympathizing with Larry. It's funny, but cruel, and as one event snowballed into another, I really found myself adopting that same "you've got to be shitting me" look.

In all, it probably wasn't one of their most memorable films. I doubt it'll produce a strong cult following or ignite a recital of one-liners, but it served as a very good cinematic exercise for the already phenomenally accomplished brothers. They re-worked their strongest muscles and even made time for a few new ones. And I, like a lot of Coen fans, have full faith that they KNOW exactly what they're doing, so while it likely won't end up on any Oscar radar, it stands as another example of how talented (and dark humored) they are as filmmakers.

#024 - Where the Wild Things Are (2009)

Director: Spike Jonze

Writer: Spike Jonze & Dave Eggers

Runtime: 101 min

In almost every review for this film, critics point out the concept that this is indeed NOT a children's movie. Drawn from one of the most memorable children's books of all time, there was an expectation that it would be a fun-filled romp that parents would love as much as their kids. Actually, it ended up being a movie made entirely for ADULTS, which just happened to be based on a children's book.

I was impressed with the movie, I really was. I had enormous expectations for it, and while it didn't necessarily surpass any of them, I think it was a really touching film with a story everyone can relate to, even if it strayed thematically from the story's basis. It didn't hit every high point I think it wanted to hit, and it certainly wasn't as well-structured as previous Jonze efforts Adaptation and Being John Malkovich (but you can argue his screenwriter for those films was simply superior). What it ended up being was a powerful display of imagination, terrific costume and CGI design, and an emotionally driven story that simplifies to the struggle of being an individual.

As far as things that were hands-down fantastic, I think it's worthwhile to right off the bat applaud the animatronic and computer-generated work of the Wild Things themselves. I think they were as close to being drawn from the collective childhood imagination as possible--not just for Max himself in the movie, but for all of us in the audience who grew up on this book and certainly crafted our own images of the creatures long ago. They were part human and part alien, playful yet emotional, and just smart enough to be useful characters without blurring the line of, "How does a child imagine such sophisticated creatures?" (Which would have been a big problem for me, since I know they're supposed to be within Max's imagination.) And the voice cast for the Wild Things was stellar--James Gandolfini, Catherine O'Hara, Forest Whitaker, Paul Dano, Chris Cooper. I doubt anyone could really take issue with the execution of the creatures, which is why this version might hold up as a all-time great children's movie. I also think the soundtrack, which was recorded by Karen O (of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs) and Carter Burwell (frequent Jonze and Coen Brothers collaborator), was awesome. It was just art house enough to capture the attention of twentysomethings and the Village set, but poppy and lighthearted enough to hold favor with parents and their children. And last, I want to tip my cap to the cinematography by Lance Acord (Being John Malkovich, Adaptation., and Lost In Translation). The visual flow was not at all in the vein of typical PG films, with far too many hand-held shots, closeups and muted colors, but as an adult I thought the photography was exquisite. Lots of producers these days have jumped onto the concept of hand-held cameras (see The Office and Slumdog Millionaire) for the implied level of realism it brings to the screen. Fixed cameras and wide angles would have made it feel like a soap opera or an episode of Barney, but getting up close to Max's face and trailing close behind him on point of view shots helps to bring the viewer into Max's world, and it helps to push the level of character identification that already existed.

From a story perspective, Where the Wild Things Are was not at all intended for children. Even the obvious nods to youth, like dirt clod wars and toy villages with figurine citizens, seemed to be crafted from the viewpoint of an adult looking back, rather than a boy looking forward. And the common throughline of familial tension is clearly intended for adults, since we can see Max's pain and feel it ourselves, whereas kids might be able to recognize the emotions, but not really understand why they're important to be shown in a movie. I think in a lot of ways, this film was Jonze's ode to the loss of childhood, it just happened to be framed in the story of Sendak's children's classic. I don't really find fault with this, I just think it's very likely that some viewers will go to the theater intending on seeing a retelling of their favorite childhood story, but will instead be treated to an almost painful journey of the sadness in isolation (and sad, sad giant monster eyes).

After the movie, I remarked that although I have never read any of Dave Eggers's work, I could see a lot of similarities in tone between Wild Things and Away We Go, though, when asked to explain why, I didn't have much of an answer. I suppose I wouldn't be a very worthwhile movie reviewer if I couldn't explain that kind of thing, so I thought about it, and the one phrase that kept bouncing around in my head was this: "the burden of being". I think both films are very existential in their reflection, and both revolve highly around family. The characters seem to be grasping at this idea of happiness as if it were an attainable possession, as if it were a gift they could treat themselves to forever if they could only harness it in the right way. For the Wild Things in this film, their happiness is represented by their king--in this case, Max--who promises to make everything okay and to keep out the sadness. Of course, Max is just a projection of their own inner flaws (though Jonze does tend to beat us over the head a little by revealing their flaws, often) and it takes them the course of the film to realize what all the audience realized from minute one--that their happiness is their unity, and sticking together is the only way to combat the sadness. This is quite similar, I feel, to Away We Go, when Burt and Verona undertook this journey to find a home (the Wild Things undertake a mission of BUILDING a home!) as a blanket desire to induce happiness, security, and comfort, when everything they needed was right under their noses the whole time. Maybe I'm being too general here, but at least these comparisons sort of support my claim about the movies being similarly themed. And both movies actually vacillated pretty quickly between high points and low points--this may not necessarily be Eggers's fault, but it was something I noticed that applied to both. The (surprisingly rare) moments of pure "fun" in Where the Wild Things Are often immediately disintegrated into tension, with the characters ending up crying, pouting, or walking away in disgust. Which is why I feel like I keep tracing back to the concept of "burden of being"--despite the fact that all everyone wants is to pursue these moments of unadulterated joy, I think what the filmmakers are trying to express is that we don't really NEED that joy. It's an outlet, a vice, it's not "real", and what we REALLY need is that safety net of family and loved ones to catch us when we come down off those highs. It's a pretty simple concept, but as far as film "messages" go, I don't think it's an awful one.

Overall, I'd say hit up this movie--even though I don't think my opinion is going to sway you, since it's a pretty notable movie and I'm sure most people have made up their minds on whether they want to see it. But I liked it, even though it was a pretty sad movie and overall kind of left me feeling glum. I just think that's sort of the intention of the filmmakers. So, well played, Spike. Well played.

#023 - Lessons Learned

Some would argue that this was an exciting, eventful sports weekend. Others might say it sucked beyond all comprehension. Me? Well, I'm far more "others" than "some".

Saturday's college football featured three notable turds--the Oklahoma-Texas "Red River Rivalry", Florida's ho-hum performance and late-game referee bailout, and Ohio State's steaming, fly-filled pile of dung versus Purdue. After a catastrophic performance last weekend, I vowed I would not bet college football anymore this year. Well, that turned out to be a lie. I bet it lightly, taking baby steps back into the ring, and won 3 of the 4 wagers I placed for a modest gain. And by modest, I mean, about enough to cover one meal and one drink at Ruth's Chris.

*Interesting snippet about Purdue that I noticed this morning: Drew Brees of the Saints is 5-0 this year. Kyle Orton of the Broncos is 5-0 this year. I'm sure much has been made of their Boilermaker connection and undefeatedness. But the one that most people probably didn't pick up on--former PU quarterback Curtis Painter is currently the backup to the Colts' Peyton Manning, who also sits at 5-0 for the year. And this weekend Purdue pulls off an upset of Ohio State in practically dominant fashion? Something is going on here.

Naturally, college football was just a tiny appetizer in preparation for Sunday. I pulled out very few stops with my... ahem... "friendly stakes". And of course, it was a total shitstorm. Very little reading, analyzing, or researching could have prepared ANYONE for certain events--such as:

Or, you know:

Unhappy face.

If my net return from the day were to show up on SEC filings, it would be the kind to be displayed (in parentheses). Or possibly in red ink. It was not good, friends. It was not terrible, either, as I took advantage of some early games, like the Chiefs cover and victory, the Texans cover, the Panthers victory (which Jake Delhomme made far, FAR harder than it need be--I stand by my Jeff Garcia claim. Come on, John Fox, I know you have it in you.), the Ravens cover, the plethora of points in the Saints game, and the fact that the Chiefs and Redskins was going to be one of the most horrendous displays of offense since... well, Week 5 (Hey, Derek Anderson! You won 6-3! What are you going to do next?).

Those early gains ended abruptly, though. The main culprit for the losses is certainly the Eagles. I might violate many of the textbook rules for sports betting week to week, but one of the ones that I try to avoid (and failed miserably to do this week) was putting too many eggs in one basket. My basket for this week was the Eagles. And they spoiled rotten pretty quickly, with little run defense, little run offense, an inability to convert third downs or get to the red zone, and JaMarcus Russell's finest hour since the Tampa game we hold in our hearts so dear.

Aside from the invaluable lesson re-learned about not banking too much on one team, there were a number of other things I took from the week that I hope to remember from here on out (though, will admittedly probably ignore).

1. Never Overestimate a Rookie Quarterback -- Yes, Mark Sanchez has been terrific so far this year. And nobody can argue that it was his fault they lost last Monday night to the Dolphins. Ronnie Brown and the wildcat just ripped the Jets' defense to shreds. But he's still a rookie. And the lumps will come. And like yesterday, they will sometimes (and hopefully not often) come in the form of 5 interceptions. Credit to the Jets' defense for keeping that game close--well, let's be real, credit the Bills' pathetic offense. Sanchez's quarterback rating for the game was 8.3. Which would be an impressive IMDb rating or earthquake, but this scale goes to 158.3, not 10. After a 3-0 start, the Jets are now 3-3. Which makes sense. This was a .500 team with Brett Favre this year, and coming into it, I thought they were about a .500 team with Sanchez, if not a little worse. He's been better than expected, but I doubt I will see many more -10 point lines for the Jets as the season goes on.

2. When There's Weather, Advantage to the Team That's Used to It -- Sure, the Titans have played in snow before. And as late as last year, their smashmouth, defense-oriented style of football would have been perfect for the snow. But snow in Foxboro? That's Tom Brady territory. That's Bill Belichick territory. They've been there, they've done that all before, and when you can chuck up 300 yards and 5 scores in the first half of a game on a snow-covered field, that's a good way of saying, "You're not on our level." The Titans can't really stop anyone in perfect conditions, but I think once both teams came out of the tunnel and the game started, there wasn't much question about who was going to win. (-9.5 was a very fair spread for that game, don't let the result fool you.) Same goes for rain in Seattle and mudslides in Pittsburgh.

1b./2b. When a Player Publicly States He's Never Played in the Cold, It's a Bad Sign -- I missed this this week, but during the Jets' broadcast the announcers couldn't help but harp on Mark Sanchez's candid remarks that he's never played in sub-50 degree temperature. Game conditions at the Meadowlands weren't nightmarish, but they were bitter and windy, not good for a guy fresh out of USC who probably wears sweatshirts when it's 75 outside.

3. 14 Points is Still a Shitload to Cover in the NFL -- This is professional football. I have been a little misled so far this season by the dominance of favorites. Easy covers by the Eagles and the Giants last week despite 15- and 16- point spreads capped a 5-week run where the favorites cleaned house on Vegas. This week saw three 14-point spreads for the Eagles, Packers, and Steelers (who went 1-2) and three 10-point spreads for the Jaguars, Jets, and Patriots (who went 1-2). In college, 10- and 14- point spreads for big favorites are easily covered. For one, there is an inherent different in competition. Power programs get to select the cream of the crop. They spend millions of dollars on the best players, the best technology, and the best equipment (wait did I say "best players"--I didn't mean that, NCAA, I promise). There aren't practice squad players on the Steelers who could whoop the pants off of the Panthers' regulars. If there were, they'd be on another team, starting and getting paid for it. And on top of it, college has style points. Winning big is a factor. In the NFL, a team is just as happy with a 1 point win as it is a 30 point one. If anything, I think coaches would prefer the former, as it would keep the team more focused, and hard-earned wins are more valuable than cakewalks. As the Browns showed, even teams that have no business being in the stadium can still cover big spreads, as opposing defenses don't really care about being more than two scores up as the clock expires. Even for games that you know in your heart are locks, spreads bigger than 7 get dicey.

4. Never Underestimate a Cross Country Trip -- Being professional athletes, who get paid millions of dollars to do this dozens of times a year, you would think traveling a couple thousand miles to play a game wouldn't have much an effect. Well, you would also think that people would understand that buying handguns almost exclusively leads to tragedy and almost never to heroism. But apparently they keep selling them, and teams keep putting up stinkers after traveling cross country. Whatever preconceived notions I have about that trip, I must put them aside and realize the empirical evidence that shows it takes a toll on players' bodies and minds. The Jaguars squeaked by the Rams in a sad performance just a week after traveling to Seattle and getting their asses handed to them. The Eagles got stomped on by the Raiders after traveling from Philly to Oakland. As with all "rules", this one doesn't hold for every example, and should be taken on a case by case basis, but I think there's enough evidence to suggest it plays a factor.

5. It's Not Wrong to Bet on Your Rooting Interest -- Despite the public perception, I don't really think it's that wrong to bet on your rooting interest. I think most of the time, the problem is, you let your biases blind you, and you fail to see the potential traps of the game. I still believe the Eagles were a good bet this weekend, and even though it's likely I was biased towards them from the start, I don't think it was wrong to bet on them. The Raiders had shown absolutely no ability to play offense, they were without Darren McFadden, they were without Nnamdi Asomugha, and the Eagles seemed to be clicking with McNabb back at the helm. Maybe 14 points was strong for them, but I still would have been far more confident betting the Eagles than Oakland in this game. And taking adjusted lines on the Birds in this game was even more of a lock. This was just an NFL upset, plain and simple, one team played better than it had before, one team played worse than it had before. And how the game affected me is totally separate from how I feel about betting it. Most people say, "You don't want to feel even worse if they lose." I felt like crap after the Eagles lost, but not because I made a mistake gambling. I still thought it was the right play from my perspective, but being a fan it hurt to see the team execute so poorly and come home with a loss to an inferior opponent.

The important thing to remember is that Sunday is only six days away. And I'm sure I'll get right back up on that pony again, hopefully with better results.

#022 - The Informant! (2009)

Director: Steven Soderbergh

Writer: Scott Z. Burns

Runtime: 108 min

I want to get something out of the way.

Yes. Matt Damon put on a lot of weight for this role. And he went from being GQ sexy to DQ frumpy. Let's applaud the commitment, he really dove into his role, for my money, he disappeared into the role--it became sort of like, "Hey, that guy looks like Matt Damon... in a weird way." Just like Charlize Theron before him, critics and audiences everywhere will give him kudos on what a remarkable transformation he went through. But I don't think just putting on some weight and sporting a wicked mustache should earn anyone a round of applause. Damon was good in this movie, not astounding or anything, but good, and the acting should speak for itself, not the body type.

I made the analogy after the movie that it was sort of like seeing a film where the first half is about a jewel thief, showing how he makes his intricate scores, building and showcasing his craft, and the second half is him standing trial for murder. (FYI: That is NOT the plot of this movie. Just being careful.) Why put so much effort into one thing if it's just going to morph into another? I know this movie was based on real events, so there's not a whole lot they can do about it. And in Mark Whitacre's (Damon) story, the two events are much more intertwined, but only in passing comments. I typically expect better from Soderbergh. Usually, I feel his efforts are to show us parts of the story that we didn't even KNOW were parts of the story. But in this case, it feels like they jumped on board with the fast moving train of this comedic portrait they had developed, got Damon all good and fattened up for the character, and then 2/3 of the way through, went, "Holy crap, we're going to have to finagle this ending in here somehow."

That doesn't mean there wasn't anything to like about this movie. It was certainly clever at times, it made me laugh, but sort of in that Burn After Reading-"this is so ridiculous"-chuckle type way. Not in a "this scene is truly hilarious" type way. And the costume designers and set designers absolutely NAILED 1992. Whitacre's ties were unfathomable. I give them all the credit in the world for that, it truly felt like the world I knew as a 7 year old kid. The main problem I have is that it was jumbled. It didn't flow from start to finish. I wasn't sure if I should root for Whitacre or against him. I mostly just identified with the FBI Agents who were assigned his case. And I can't tell if that was the objective. I felt sorry for Whitacre as the story went along, but I didn't FEEL sorry. I wasn't happy for him at any moment, I wasn't sad for him at any moment. And I think it was partially because the typical arc of storyline--the hero's quest--wasn't fully revealed. He was on a quest for something, but kept leaving bits and pieces of it out, until eventually, they all scattered on the floor. I know that was part of what made this case so special--that Whitacre obsessively and continuously lied to EVERYONE, even after he had supposedly turned up his palms--but I think it could have progressed better.

Lots of people were really excited for this movie, myself included. They had a catchy marketing strategy with the 90s retro and the ridiculous Fat Damon shots and the exclamation point. But it just didn't feel like a home run to me. My friend James saw the movie with me, and he loved it, so don't think that my viewpoint is the only one. And Roger Ebert interestingly gave it a glowing A+ review, though from reading it I can't tell why, except that he thinks it was funny. It was worth seeing, but I don't think it'll be talked about in the way that they were hoping it would. And if Soderbergh puts forth another Ocean's 12-level effort like this again, some people are going to start to wonder about his renowned status as a world-class filmmaker.

#021 - Why I'm a Bandwagon

To clarify something, I'm a Mariners fan. They're these guys:

(And not these guys.)

Still, a lot of people wonder how that is. Or why that is. Or why I'm not a fan of the Phillies, even though they won the World Series last year, aren't I excited about the "WORLD PH&&&IN' CHAMPS!"? Come on, I'd have to be heartless not to, right?

Well, I guess I am heartless. I love the Mariners. I always have. They've been pretty much my only baseball love, even though I don't live in Seattle, and I've never even BEEN to Seattle. A conversation with a co-worker yesterday turned into a debate about my fanhood (which can very easily be taken as a debate about manhood) and he very firmly opposed my viewpoint. There's a simple reason why I love them, and then a little bit more complicated reason. But taking both into account, I actually think how I align myself with sports teams is completely appropriate, even though I doubt anyone else would agree.

On one hand, I can see the value of "I live here, I root here". When you're a kid, you're growing up with one team (or two or three or four, or if you live in New York, seven) that plays on TV every night. One stadium to go to with your family. One set of headlines in the newspapers in the morning. Being a fan of where you're from is the accepted practice. Everyone can understand it, nobody would judge it. But personally I don't feel that's the "best" way to do it. I live in Philadelphia, where the most stubborn, passionate fans in the country live, but I want to be honest about something here--also some of the worst. Thousands of people on the street decked in Phils 2008 gear will tell you they lived and died by the team every year. But there are statistics that show that they didn't. And on top of it, there's experience that shows that they didn't.

I want to rewind to April 2009, and while I'm not going to dig very hard to find a good link, here's what I'm talking about. Pat Burrell is one of two local athletes who most turn me off to the idea of being a "home teamer". When he returned to the city after his release last off season, you would have thought it was William Penn himself coming home to roost. He was showered with applause, tears, loving tributes, cries of "It won't be the same!" and "We'll always love you!" But I'm a pretty observant sports fan. And "always love you" is the FURTHEST thing from the truth when it comes to Pat Burrell's career in Philadelphia. Here's a guy who was heckled by the home fans out in his perch in left field. Here's a guy whose name preceded the word "sucks" more than anyone I can remember (as long as you don't consider "Dallas" a name). Here's a guy for whom people would jokingly pencil in a K on the scoresheet before he saw a pitch. The Phillies talked about trading him, and I'd be willing to bet that only about 1 in 10 fans would have opposed it. He drew walks, but nobody was impressed with his homers, his RBI, his batting average, his fielding, his speed. The guy was simply not well liked. He was never the golden boy that Rollins is. Never the face of the franchise. Never a Subway spokesman like Howard. Never ever guy's AND girl's dream like Chase. And yet, the team puts together a solid run (completely forgetting the TORRID backlash from the loss to the Rockies the year earlier) and walks home last year with the World Series Championship after defeating the talented but less experienced Rays. All the sudden, Pat the Bat is a national hero. An icon. He deserves his own statue. A graceful champion, the embodiment of the team. Nobody ever claimed Philadelphia fans weren't fickle.

If anything, I'd like to tip my cap to Burrell for putting up with the fans for that long. Winning heals all wounds, but I'm sick of Phillies fans out there talking about how much you loved Pat Burrell. Look, I can't point the finger at each and everyone one of you and claim you were guilty. But I was here, for all of it, for the three years that everyone was excited about this up and coming first overall pick, and for the six years that everyone was waiting for him to become a league-leading slugger and griped about his .250 average and 120+ strikeouts. Don't kid yourselves. You may have a new fondness for him now, especially that he played on the Series winner, and that he left, and that he's nearing retirement. He did more than most people gave him credit for, but he was not well-liked, and he did always carry a bit of an underachiever tag (being the #1 pick and all). The same can be said for Charlie Manuel. Lots of people were disgusted with him. Lots of people questioned why the team was keeping around a man who could barely walk the dugout steps or form a complete sentence. It took Brad Lidge about two months to go from hero to assassination target. A few weeks ago I heard talk from some people who were claiming Cole Hamels was "done". People are very peculiar with their fanhood.

Would I be considered a "die-hard" Eagles fan if I was one of the brilliant gentleman at the 1999 NFL Draft who booed the team's decision to pass on Ricky Williams, the record-breaking running back from Texas? Or if I booed the team's decision to sign McNabb to a long term deal, to give him the reigns after his injury led to Jeff Garcia's resurgence with the team? I love Donovan McNabb. Other than his mom, I might be the only one left. What else does the guy have to do to prove he's one of the six best quarterbacks in the league. His record as a starter in the NFL is 84-45 (65%, and 9-6 in the playoffs). By comparison, Peyton Manning is 122-59 (67.4%, and 7-8 in the playoffs). What is everyone missing? Really, everyone who's been calling for a regime change the past five years, who do you want? Peyton Manning? Tom Brady? The list of NFL quarterbacks who have been more successful than McNabb is incredibly short. And the list of AVAILABLE NFL quarterbacks who have been more successful than McNabb... well. If McNabb does manage to bring home a Super Bowl to Philadelphia in the next couple seasons, I hope he stands up there at the championship podium, with all the fans screaming out, "We love you Donovan! We believed in you the whole time! We knew you'd do it!"--well, I honestly hope he smiles that million-dollar smile of his, holds his middle finger up to the crowd and says, "No you f-ing didn't."

All of this has just kind of disgusted me. Some of my closest friends and family members are Phillies fans, and they like to rib me about, "How many games did your team win last year?" "Oh when's the last time the Mariners won a World Series?" But since I've been old enough to pay attention, Philadelphia fans have done far more bad mouthing their teams than they have praising. The same can easily be said for Yankees fans, though I don't really want to go there, because I have far too many biases against the Yankees to control myself. But year in and year out they call for A-Rod's head, even though before his steroid allegations, he might have been a unanimous first-ballot Hall of Famer (Rickey Henderson was not unanimous). And I can understand the concept of appreciating what you have, because if you do remember, Alex Rodriguez was actually ON the Mariners. Regardless of "my" team's performance, I base my fanhood on something that some people might find hard to comprehend--I actually LIKE the teams that I like.

The simple explanation for my love of the M's is this--I was 8, 9 years old. There wasn't an 8 year old in the country during 1993 that didn't love Ken Griffey Junior. He was everywhere, just about the coolest guy you could even imagine, and he was one hell of a baseball player. (Actually I believe kids at the time were split between Griffey and Bonds, damn am I glad I landed on Junior.) Then in 1995, the M's managed one of baseball's greatest late-season comebacks by tying the Angels for the AL West division crown and sending the teams to a one-game playoff for the right to face the Yankees. (Note: Randy Johnson's 18-2 record is no typo.) The Divisional Round series versus the Yanks was one of the greatest of the 90s, if not one of the greatest of all time. Five games. Two that went into extra innings. (Special kudos to Jim Leyritz for catching 15 innings in the rain and ending it with a walk-off homer in Game 2.) Griffey belted five homers in the five game series. The M's fell down 2-0 before winning the final three at the Kingdome to take it. And two of the greatest Mariners of all time, Griffey and Edgar Martinez, combined to seal the series victory with my single favorite play in baseball history: The Double. Just reading all this probably doesn't do any justice to the events, since I know how much emotion is welling up in me just thinking about it.

*EDIT: Video of "The Double", courtesty of MLB.com. You know you want to watch.

The Mariners lost the next round to the Indians and haven't really sniffed the same level of playoff success since. That doesn't mean I don't still love them. I wear my navy and teal proudly, even when they finish with the worst record in the AL, and even though when I tell people I'm not from Seattle, they just look at me confused. I don't think being a fan is all about success. Successful teams are interesting. I root every year for LeBron and the Cavs, and they have thus far failed me, but instead of being considered a bandwagon, I'd rather just be considered an admirer. I'm disappointed when they lose, but I don't really live or die by them. I see LeBron as an underdog in his quest for "Greatest Ever", and ultimately, as a basketball fan you have to side with either him or Kobe (and for countless reasons which I could get into at another time, I pick LeBron). I also like the Suns, as their style and Steve Nash's worldliness are catchy. And of course there's the low-lying, slow-burning love for the Thunder that's developing, because they've assembled quite the talented cast (and because at 6'5" 175 I share a body type and playing style with Kevin Durant--6'9" 210). But it's been quite some time since I had the same fire for an NBA team as I do for the Eagles or Mariners (or Maryland basketball!). Too many players changing teams too often, and too many enormous egos complicating things.

I don't consider myself a bandwagon and I honestly don't think most other people would. But I don't really subscribe to the theory that states you should root for where you're from. Too often, this familiarity has bred contempt for me. I'm not particularly a hockey fan, but I've noticed that every year, Flyers fans talk about this being "the year" for the team, they've signed all the newest over-the-hill castoffs from across the league for twice their market value, and this will be the year they finally get it done. I wish they wouldn't get themselves so excited. It doesn't take a genius to see that this is the way all Flyers fans get every year, why would they expect this year to be any different? (See: Chicago Cubs.) And I like the Phillies as a team--well, certain players, like Chase Utley--but some of the aforementioned qualms with the fan base has been what's really driven me from rooting for them for the past 15 years. I stick by the Eagles, not really because they're from Philadelphia, but because as a team I truly find them enjoyable to watch. The rest of the fanbase continues to test my patience weekly, but I choose to ignore their jeers and applaud all of the great moments they provide.

Sports to me is about identity and excitement. When you feel a kinship for a certain team or player, their successes and their failures can directly influence you. And while I don't have a particular set of rules that decrees which teams I root for, the one thing that unites all of them is that they've provided enough excitement and enough positives to outweigh any of the negatives, or else I just wouldn't see the point in caring about them. As a fan, I want teams that I already LIKE to succeed, as opposed to wanting to like teams that I know are succeeding. I may have only really experienced one championship in all of my sports fan career (the 2002 NCAA title for the Terps), but it was an incredible treat for that reason.

#020 - There's more than one way to skin a pig

Simply put, I wish I had more followers. What's not to like here? We've got sports, movies, political commentary, and the occasional very, very odd post. I guess I'm missing out on a large segment of the male population by not having the cliche "Babe of the Day" post. And a large segment of the female population by deciding to ax my "Twilight Gossip of the Day" concept.

If anyone out there has any tips for how to become a more successful blogger, let me know. I want to be one of those people who is famous despite having no noteworthy talent.

Moving on to something that interests me, I'm deciding to tackle my first NFL post. (Oh gosh, let me rethink that wording...) I'm deciding to pound out my first NFL post. This past weekend marked the first Sunday of the season that I lost money, so it was a sad day for all, but comparatively, it wasn't so bad, only about US$90. (I like to pretend that I have readers from all over the globe.) I'm not quite at the point where I'm confident enough to start posting my spread "picks of the week" for you to bet on, so if you're interested in something more along those lines, mosey on over to this blog (and give the guy a break, it was a rough start to the season, and he's actually doing well on the games that he DOESN'T post). But I would like to share some thoughts of my own now that we've reached the 25% mark of the regular season.

Section 1: They Can't Possibly Be This Bad (Or Can They?)

The Titans. (0-4) You can't blame them for their opening week loss to the Steelers. It was a tooth and nail type game, and considering Super Bowl champs always win to open the season, a 13-10 loss on the road is commendable. And the upstart Jets got them in week 3, which should have been more of a coin flip if not for some seriously bad Titans turnovers on special teams. But the losses to the Texans and Jags stand out more. Why? Because they decided they didn't have ANY defense. The loss of Albert Haynesworth was pretty devastating to them, but he shouldn't have this much of an effect on the entire team. 37 points to the Jags? The Jags that had scored 12 against the Colts? What happened to the ball-hawking, cyclone-causing defense of last year? Lots of fingers are being pointed at Kerry Collins, calling for his head, crying out for Vince Young. I like Vince. I think he's one of the best college players of the decade. But he's never been very successful passing in the NFL. And like all young quarterbacks who are known for their wheels, I feel like he started doing that whole "I want to be a pocket passer" thing. If he's just going to step in and be a pocket passer, what's the use in switching QBs? Collins is a veteran, he's been there, he's never wowed anyone, but he's been successful. Honestly, I'd be more in favor of the switch to VY if I knew that he was going to open it up and use his god-given athleticism to make plays. But somehow I doubt that's going to happen. I think the Titans should stick with Collins, until they're sure that they're out of the playoff hunt. But right now they should be more focused on stepping up the defense. A crapload of points to Houston + a crapload more to Jacksonville = big problems. Still, I think they'll actually surprise some people and beat Indianapolis this week. Indy always struggles with Tennessee, and it's at home, and they need to get off the schneid.

The Panthers. (0-3) This one is a little bit easier to diagnose. Jake Delhomme stinks. I've never liked him as an NFL quarterback. Apparently neither has Steve Smith. I think last year's Cardinals game was just the collapse of his overachieving career. The thing about Carolina is, I think they have a decent number of pieces together to make a good team. Their running game is quite solid, if they can ever get enough opportunity to show it. But Delhomme has been so miserable at converting third downs this season, DeAngelo and company have been held to a limited amount of carries. Their defense is not horrible. It's an above-average NFL defense, despite not making any real key adjustments over the offseason. I might just be crazy on this one, but I think the key to the Panthers success is sitting out there in the form of a balding white dude. Jeff Garcia has been cut by Philly, and if memory serves me, this year's Panthers would serve as a totally appropriate analog to the 2006 Eagles. They have a top-notch running back, a good defense, a veteran offensive line, a veteran coach. The big advantage that these Panthers have is Steve Smith, a receiver of a caliber Garcia hasn't had the pleasure of throwing to since... yup. I know, I know. This is all kind of a stretch. But I like the Panthers. I don't think there's much to dislike about them (other than Delhomme). And I think Garcia deserves one last shot to resurrect a team from the depths of despair. Regardless, I'll probably still bet on Carolina in the weeks to come, and they'll probably still keep letting me down.

Darren McFadden. (145 YDS, 3.1 YPC) I've said it before and I'll say it again--I WISH the Eagles had this guy. I think he's dynamite. And I think the Raiders organization is the wet blanket stopping him from exploding. He's got no passing game, his defense can't get off the field (and is the worst case of one-man defense since the LeBron/Magic series), and he has a very good chance at becoming the most talented running back to lay a big fat egg for his pro career. This gripe is more fantasy-related than anything. Adrian Peterson is a beast, and man for man, he's better than McFadden. But if they switched teams, things would be a lot different. The good news is McFadden's injured for the next few weeks. Out of mind, out of sight.

Section 2: They Can't Possibly Be This Good (No, They Can't)

The Broncos. (4-0) I'm pissed about these bastards. They've killed me. Spread pools, spread bets, straight up pools, everything. I don't think they're this good. I'm hoping New England finally shows them the door. Kyle Orton is 17-2 as a starter at home in the NFL. Say what? That's absurd. Though in a sick kind of way, I'm enjoying the post-Cutler syndrome. That's what he gets. They've just been the complete opposite of what I've expected so far, and that annoys me. How does a team that last year played less defense than a cardboard box suddenly turn into Mr. No-Scores? Well, games against Oakland and Cleveland can't hurt. But something seems fishy about this. Now that Buckhalter has gotten his yearly crutches walk on, they're one Champ Baily tweaked hamstring away from 4-12.

Section 3: They Can't Possibly Be This Good (Or Can They?)

The Jets. (3-1) And Mark Sanchez for that matter. (Ladies-approved link.) I've heard a lot of talk about, "Who's going to be better, Matt Ryan, Joe Flacco, or Mark Sanchez?" I have to give props to Joe Flacco for how he's playing this season, and Mark Sanchez because I figured he'd be a bust (ahem... ahem...), but there's no reason to think that through FOUR games you can reasonably say Sanchez is on the same level as Matt Ryan. I think Ryan, more than the others, is the successor to Peyton Manning. He seems to have superhuman composure for a kid, and it was evident right from the get-go last year. I think it's only a few years before he catapults into the "Coach-on-the-field" status that Manning has been toting. I digress. The Jets' strength to this point is their defense. Unlike Denver, I think they have the personnel and coaching to continue deploying a wicked defense for the remainder of the season. Rex Ryan was blessed with freaks like Ray Lewis and Terrell Suggs and Ed Reed in Baltimore, but he's proving now that he's no pushover when it comes to scheming--and more importantly, coaching BETWEEN games. He gets his PLAYERS fired up and prepared for the game, not just the playbook. That's the kind of difference that sets coaches like Jeff Fisher, Mike Tomlin, and Tony Dungy apart from Xs-and-Os guys like Mike Martz, Norv Turner, and (yeah I'm saying it) Andy Reid. As bitter as I was about the Jets after week 3, I think their loss at New Orleans (which I definitely saw coming) was the right stepping stone for the team. I think they needed that setback to dig in. If they can respond with a win this week against a rejuvenated and re-Chad-enated Dolphins team, I think it'll go a long way to cementing themselves as a real contender, and not just an early season surprise.

Section 4: Thoughts on Week 5

Favorites have been covering at an alarming rate. So this week, we're seeing the backlash from that. Philadelphia (-15 vs. Tampa) and New York Giants (-16 vs. Oakland) are taking the bulk of the heat. Both of these games are tough calls. Usually with spreads this size, you don't even want to bother with picking the favorites, and I guess that's what Vegas is trying to do. The Giants have been costing them money right and left, so if you want the Giants, you're going to have to take a gamble. I don't see the Raiders scoring more than 10 points against them, but with such a pathetic offense, there's no reason for the Giants to go out and slaughter them and run up the score. They only beat Kansas City by 11 points last week, and mind you, Kansas City lost to Oakland. Still, Oakland is on the road, 3000 miles away from home, no McFadden, with JaMarcus Russell at QB in the Meadowlands, so New York wouldn't be an awful pick. I hope the Eagles win of course, and I can see them covering that spread, but not enough to put any significant amount of money down.

Other games I like:

(Again, don't bet on these, just some thoughts that jumped out at me upon viewing the lines.)

New England (-3 1/2) at Denver. (See above.) Also, Belichick needs to lay the hammer down on Josh McDaniels. It's that simple.

Arizona (-5 1/2) vs Houston. The Cards are usually strong at home, save that season-opener against San Fran. And Houston is suffering through some swine flu-related troubles right now. Might not be good for travel.

New York Jets (-1 1/2) at Miami. The Jets' defense is a little more manly than the Bills'. This is the bounce-back I was referring to earlier.

Atlanta (+2 1/2) at San Francisco. I know they're traveling a long ways, but I think San Fran is in that tier of teams that Atlanta plays well right now. They might not beat the top-level guys like New England or Indianapolis or NYG, but they always fare well against the mid-levels. (They won at San Diego, Green Bay, and Minnesota last year.) Now that I think about it, I might steer clear of this one. Not enough evidence to support my initial hypothesis.

Section 5: Welcome back, big guy.

#019 - Seymour Beardface

Alright. This might end up being a bit of stretch, but don't hold it against me. Just a thought.

I was getting ready for work, brushing my teeth, splashing some water on my face to try and wake up as I am perpetually tired these days, and I dried my face and the few days of scraggly growth that has accumulated on my cheeks and jawline. (Side note: upon auditioning for a movie role, I was told I looked too young and should grow a beard. I told them, "Well, it's not going to be a real beard, but sure." So I haven't trimmed it.) This got me to thinking about the concept of facial hair as a whole. And I stumbled upon a question in my own head that I hadn't previously thought of:

Why do men have facial hair and women don't?

It's easy to say that these days it comes down to a matter of preference, and has probably affected sexual preference for as far back as we can remember. That plays a certain role in all of it, sure. (And I'm guessing a bunch of you out there might argue, "Dude, women DO." Anyway.) Maybe there was a flip of a coin back in the day and the first caveman decided he liked a woman who didn't have any hair on her face, so they started popping out babies and subsequently less and less women over time sported a regal chin carpet. But I kind of doubt that was the whole story from the get-go, and I'm thinking there was more of a biological basis to it.

Well, I spent some time looking around on the internet. Of course, a lot of the results I found jumped over the evolutionary basis, and went straight to the modern day biology. Male hormones tend to accelerate hair growth on the face and slow growth on the top of the head during puberty, when sexual hormones become more active. Female sexual hormones actually tend to accelerate hair growth on the top of the head, which I think should eventually be pushed out of the natural selection process, since men everywhere can agree that women who go to the salon twice a week and spend three hours a day shampooing and conditioning are clearly missing out on valuable procreation time. Regardless, just because that's what our hormones do these days doesn't mean that's the reason it all started. It's pretty much like saying the reason we get hungry is because our bodies release chemicals that tell us to eat. Well sure, that happens, but the reason they GET released in the first place is because our organs are concerned that they're lacking enough nutrients to continue working at full capacity. THAT is what I'm looking for here.

One possible solution I found was that in the early days, being a man and having a beard was useful for being recognized from a distance. Hey, that sounds good, except, why? "Oh look, someone is coming! Hey wait--it's a man!!" ?? I don't really know what purpose that serves? Certainly you can give credence to the theory that humans have hair to keep themselves warm. And that over time, as the body became less exposed to the elements, body hair started waning, but facial hair remained as strong as ever because the face was always exposed. (Thus, future descendants of ninjas will probably have smooth baby faces.) Still, that's a good explanation for why men have beards. But why DON'T women?

Well, the best answer I found in all of my exhaustive searching (11 minutes, 4 google queries) was, of course, related to mating. When humans were not human, and instead animals that walked around on all fours and often found themselves head-to-hind, males were able to distinguish the potential fertility in a mate by noticing a female's swollen ...ahem... goods. Then all the sudden we jumped up on two legs so we could swing from tree-to-tree on vines and participate in Edward 40-Hands. Now that we were forced to look women eye-to-eye, we had no way of knowing if her seeds were ripe. Ding ding ding! Biological significance. Apparently, women's faces get a nice red glow to them when they're feeling the heat, but if they were outfitted like ZZ Top, us men would never have any way of knowing (certainly we wouldn't ASK). So God reached down from the heavens with his Mach 4 and ripped that face felt right off.

I'm not sure if this is the 100% guaranteed fool proof reasoning behind beardless women, but I'm going to stick with it as my own theory for the next time I find myself in an awkward situation and need to play it cool with a fun fact of evolution. Of course, there's always the answer that Eve, the first woman, didn't have a beard because God didn't want her to, so, end (and beginning) of story. Either way, I for one am glad that things turned out like this. Especially because I myself can't really grow anything, so it's comforting that at least there aren't millions of women out there kicking my ass with their lady-scruff.

#018 - Zombieland (2009)

Director: Ruben Fleischer

Writer: Rhett Reese & Paul Wernick

Runtime: 80 min

I realize I'm going to receive some gentle ribbing for returning to my blog some three months after I slapped it across the face, booted it from my moving car, and left it stranded along the side of the highway with nary a truck stop to be seen for miles in either direction. So, gentlemen (because I know all you ladies would have the decency to let me be), allow me to do the honors:

"Woah! A new post! Watch out! Don't call it a comeback!"

"What?! You have a blog?! Since when?!"

"What took you so long?! I've been DYING for a new update!"

Alright, if anyone says that last one, I'm sure it's with a heavy dose of sarcasm. And I applaud you for you efforts. But I just realized that, dammit, I shouldn't give up so easily. If I had reached #145 or #207 or something, that would have been a reasonable stopping point. But to only get to #017 and then quit? That's pathetic. That's like going to run a marathon, and as soon as you find yourself squeezed in amongst the other participants at the starting line, saying, "Oh, you know what? My feet are kind of sore... I think my wife's calling... I left the stove on." I should at least give it a half-hearted effort, and run until I pass the first Dunkin Donuts, at which point I will mysteriously vanish along with a half-dozen double chocolates.

I checked out Zombieland this weekend. Saturday night, the 9:50 showing at The Bridge (Cinema de Lux) in University City. There's nothing about this theater that makes it worthwhile to spend $12.50 to see a movie there, unless you consider assigned seating to be a "perk", which I don't--though I should say having assigned tickets does actually make it easier to sit directly next to a random person, which I ended up doing. Normally I'd adhere to the 1- or 2-seat-gap rule, but at least this way I could be like, "I didn't have any choice! They assigned me here!"

Given the choice between seeing The Invention of Lying (which, don't get me wrong, seems like it would be pretty decent, but didn't seem like as raucous as a late Saturday showing should be) and Zombieland, I fell quickly on the latter, mostly for the lack of morality exhibited in the movie's previews. It didn't disappoint. (Cue "I had to read four paragraphs to get your first thought on the movie? Thanks.")

Here's why Zombieland succeeded: it was fun. And actually, unlike most movies that try to run with the debauched-good-time theme, there were surprisingly few moments throughout the film where I found myself shaking my head thinking, "This is absolutely stupid," or, "I don't even get what's going on here." That was largely my response to the movie The Goods, which was out this summer starring Jeremy Piven. Zombieland, however, stuck to the basics, didn't really try anything new, and executed a well-designed plan thanks to hundreds of gallons of fake blood, a tiny bit of charm from Jesse Eisenberg, a hefty dose of swagger from Woody Harrelson, and an epic cameo by Bill Murray (Bill Groundhog-Day-Ghostbustin'-Ass Muwway).

There are three very common storylines threaded in this movie that we all know and love. Or know and hate. Either way--1) The zombie movie. Yeah, zombies have been done before. Lots of times. And unlike the absurd deluge of vampire movies going on right now, Zombieland doesn't try to make up new rules about zombies. One vampire trailer I saw had the lead laughing off a claim about turning into a bat, like that's only something you see "in movies." There's an overwhelming effort to establish identity and individuality. You don't really see that in Zombieland. They're normal zombies, right off the George Romero bloodline. But kudos to the make up team on this one. The overload they did on blood and guts and raccoon eyes actually made the movie funnier. 2) The road movie. A group of stragglers, traveling together, overcoming obstacles, reaching a destination, and once or twice along the way nearing group dissolution, but in the end having each others' backs. 3) The underdog gets the girl. Normally I am a big cheerleader for the underdog, but in this case, I actually wasn't really affected either way by Jesse Eisenberg's ("Columbus") lust for Emma Stone ("Wichita"). That's not to say the filmmakers failed with this part of the story, but I think they gave such an effort to make Eisenberg's character quirky and neurotic and obsessively sheltered that by the end of the movie, he had risen up to "normal dude" status, and not anything more redeeming. Then again, Wichita was a hustler and a liar, so it's not like he was landing the golden goose here--er, wait, she WAS presumably the last cute girl left on earth, so maybe he did.

The movie was not without flaws--too much voiceover by Eisenberg throughout (especially in the beginning) and too heavy a reliance upon Twinkies to move the plot forward, but overall was a completely worthy late-summer flick that packed just the right amount of good jokes, bad jokes, and exploding zombie skulls. Right now IMDb has it ranked as the 230th best movie, which is absurdly high and it will certainly tumble, but it did include at least one cockblocking robot-related quote to keep it on the pop culture shelf for a couple months.