I received an email today from Andy (a co-worker) that the trailer for X-Men III has been released.
It should be interesting. Beast (my favorite X-Man), Angel, Colossus, The Brotherhood of Evil Mutants, and, of course, Phoenix.
I haven’t searched seriously, but has X-Men been recognised as a major force in spreading pro-transhumanist, pro-posthumanist ideas?
Warning, this is filled with spoilers. Don’t read any further if you haven’t seen the film and you don’t some of the surprises given away.
My first question after seeing this film is this, “Is Quentin Tarantino capable of making a film that isn’t aggressively self reflexive and steeped in film history?”
Anyway, it is as though Mr. Tarantino has been gorging himself of pop culture for the past 40 years or so, until he was filled to bursting and then, like Mr. Creosote has to vomit it all out for all the world to wonder at.
Wonder at, because it is all so very artfully, carefully, masterfully arranged.
The Kung-Fu masters, the Ennio Morricone-like music, the Kurosawa like tableaus, the ’70’s pop culture references. Westerns, mariachi music, revenge, blood and motherhood.
It is the perfect new-millennium American movie.
For the moment, that is.
Until “Man on Fire” comes out.
Elliott Smith pissed me off royally on October 22, by killing himself.
But I’m over that now, at least enough to write about it. Or maybe just to acknowledge what a tragedy the whole sorry thing is. I mean, it was clear from listening to his work that he wasn’t the happiest person in the world, but I (you? we?) hoped he was working out some of his demons by penning what must have been some of the most beautiful, intelligent, aware and graceful songs (in English, at least) of the past decade. Perhaps in the past quarter century.
We’re talking about someone in the same league as Brian Wilson, Elvis Costello, Kurt Cobain, Paul Simon, Joni Mitchell…
And now he’s dead.
Goodbye Elliott Smith. So long and thanks for all the fish.