Archive for July, 2006

Something’s In the Air Tonight…And it Stinks!

I don’t know why I keep watching Michael Mann movies. I see the well-edited previews and all-star casts and become convinced that this time will be different, that I’ll see something great instead of the lengty absurdity of Collateral, the bloated, pretentiousness of Heat, and the obnoxious film school flair of The Insider.

The previews for Miami Vice, Mann’s big screen adaptation of the hit 1980’s TV show he created, looked good. So like a moron, I was in the packed movie theater, waiting for that summer blockbuster rush that never arrived. I have no idea why studio executives think Mann is a go-to-guy for summer fare. He’s so serious and so concerned with setting a scene and establishing grit that his movies lack coherency or, far more important, fun. (If you want proof, the theatergoers and I walked out in silence afterwards. That’s great if the movie is United 93, not a movie expected to draw the young adult crowd for summer.)

The first action scene doesn’t come until an hour and a half into the two-hour affair. What preceeds that is sleep-inducing: Miami cops Sonny Crockett (Colin Farrell) and Ricardo Tubbs’ (Jamie Foxx) deep undercover activites as drug runners is dominated by set-up, meetings in humid rooms and parking garages, and drug jargon. Wow. The movie’s finale makes it apparent that there will be a sequel, which I can only hope will mean plenty of well-lit shots of staff meetings and filing.

Adding to the frustration, Crockett starts a fling with his boss’s right-hand lady (Gong Li, Memoirs of a Geisha and 2046). The romance is a failure on two fronts: it pads the movie, and the actors have zero chemistry. Gong Li’s English is choppy and sometimes inaudible; Farrell, in a lame attempt to add attitude, delivers his line in a rasp that sounds like he’s in constant need of a cough drop. And what’s with his look? Throughout the movie, Farrell sports long blondish hair and a droopy mustache that makes him look like Mike Piazza and George Michael’s love child.

Aside from Farrell and his outlandish attire, no one stands out here. Crockett and Tubbs might as well be accountants with weapons for all the charisma they show alone or together. And how come no one can create a good villian anymore? There are several of them in the movie and none are particularly notable. Perhaps it’s because everyone (good and bad guys) acts the same–intense and irritable.

I know the movie is covering cops on deep undercover, where one mistake could mean death. However, the lack of personality and fun in Miami Vice is downright palpable. Mann thinks the same serious attitude that has worked to some degree in previous films like The Insider is applicable in every other genre. Miami Vice shows the faultiness of that logic. I think I’ve finally learned my lesson.

Rating: ** (out of four)

Mondays suck - except in the summer, thanks to the Bryant Park Summer Film Festival.

If you can, get there early; last Monday by 7 p.m. there were only a few spaces left. Once I found somewhere to sit, I had to occupy myself for a few hours, and was ill-prepared (see list below). The crowd was a good mix of people who looked like they just came from work and people who looked like they didn’t work that day at all. Two hippie kids played tag, hopping from blanket to blanket - which looked fun, but I wouldn’t recommend it unless you want to piss people off - and to my right, a more “civilized” couple ate cheese and crackers.

For future showings I’d suggest the five B’s:

1. Book

2. Box of pizza

3. Beer (or booze, pick your poison)

4. Bug spray

5. Blanket

The bug spray is imperative if you don’t want to scratch your skin from now until Labor Day.

The blanket is also key. I carried a small one. I approached a few people hogging huge expanses of grass without blankets and asked if they would mind if I sat in the corner. Two girls and one earphoned hipster guy said, yes, they did mind, it was their grass.  I guess in New York, you’ll pay a thousand dollars for a small windowless room with a twin bed, but the grass is yours for absolutely free!!!

The screening started with a Looney Tunes cartoon, and followed by “Bullitt”. The ‘uncool’ boys in the crowd roared for the Road Runner. The ‘uncool’ chicks cheered for Steve McQueen.

If you have the chance I highly recommend experiencing New York City’s version of a drive-in. The lawn opens at 5 p.m. and movies begin at sundown. Check here for a complete listing.

Do you want to be an UNCOOLKID?

Here’s your chance.

We’re looking for artists for our first UNCOOLKIDS event. Paintings, photographs, small light-weight sculpture and anything else that can be hung on a wall — if you make it, we wanna see it.

The (loose) theme of the show is Uncool Art. And we mean ‘uncool’ in the best possible way — funny, unique, interesting, thought-provoking, daring — basically anything willing to stand-out from the crowd. (Plus anything that we like, and we’re a big dorks)

We’re looking for 2-3 pieces from each artist. Artists must be 21+ and available to attend the show on August 3rd in Manhattan.

Contact uncoolkids [at] gmail [dot] com if intested and please include jpegs of the pieces you’d like to show.

**UPDATE** We have all the artists we need for this show and are no longer accepting submissions.

Math Art: The Uncool-est Art of them all

Madonna came to town this week for the first set of six sold-out shows at Madison Square Garden.  I’d gotten the memo (and heard all sorts of theories on it, from bikram yoga temperatures to voice preservation methods) about the lack of air conditioning, so I’d dressed in little clothing and brought bottled waters. Still, the heat didn’t stop the guys on both sides of me from disco-dancing, singing, and sweating from the moment the lights lowered.

Madonna appeared on stage forty-five minutes after the time stated on the ticket, and made her entrance in a globe that peeled away from her like a blooming flower. For the first part of the show, she and her dancers wore black leather riding gear, complete with headgear, jodhpurs, bits, and whips. Yes, she whipped her dancers. Images of her ex-rays and vintage footage of riders tumbling off horses flashed on the screen behind her. It was clear that Madonna is marked by the accident that befell her almost a year ago. It was also obvious that she has fully recovered and she wants everyone to know it.

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