2011 in Print

Comics

A nice mix of mainstream, European and indy this year.

  Asterios Polyp – David Mazzuchelli
  Britten & Brulightly – Hannah Berry
  Chance in Hell – Gilbert Hernandez
  Doing Time – Hanawa Kazuichi
  Fun Home – Alison Bechdel
  Hellcity: The Whole Damned Thing – Macon Blair and Joe Flood
  The Lagoon – Lilli Carre
  Maybe Later – Dupuy & Berberian
  Powers: Z – Brian Michael Bendis and Michael Avon Oeming
  Shaolin Burning – Ant Sang
  The Third Musketeer – Jason
  Walking Dead: No Way Out – Robert Kirkman and Charlie Adlard

Scripts

Hm. According to my reading diary, I read the average annual amount of these this year but very few have wowed me like I want to be wowed.

  Billy Elliott – Lee Hall
  The Good Wife: Pilot – Robert King and Michelle King
  Lone Star – John Sayles
  Manhunter – Michael Mann
  The Straight Story – John Roach and Mary Sweeney

Maybe it’s just me.

Books

Some ah, research led me to more non-fiction reading that I would previously readily admit.

  Armageddon – Max Hastings
  Nemesis – Max Hastings
  Striptease – Carl Hiaasen
  True Grit – Charles Portis

I’m tempted to try the Demi Moore vehicle that started out once upon a time as a film adaptation of Striptease but… ‘m afraid I mayn’t survive it.

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2011 on Screen

These are straight from the viewing diary. Those that I remember with a smile get some link-love.

Features

  13 Assassins
  Animal Kingdom
  Another Year
  Born into Brothels
  Buck
  Chugyeogja
  Contagion
  Frozen River
  Get Low
  Leaves of Grass
  Please Give
  El secreto de sus ojos
  The Social Network
  The Women on the Sixth Floor

Television

  30 Rock: Season 1
  Go Girls: Season 2
  Breaking Bad: Season 4
  Downton Abbey: Season 1-2
  The Good Wife: Season 3
  Justified: Season 2
  Monroe: Season 1

There were some shows that were real… curate’s eggs that I wanted to try and be objective about but then I remembered that Sunday School chestnut about pointing fingers and the other three pointing right back at you. (Yeah, I chickened out.)

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IMF

The latest Mission: Impossible instalment is around the corner and I’m kinda interested, kinda excited, though not because I’m a fan of either the franchise or Tom Cruise hisself – it’s for the directors who’ve gamely signed on (and the first one doesn’t count because Nobody knew)*:

  –  M:I-2 by a post-Killer, pre-Paycheck John Woo;

  –  M:I:III by the insanely prolific J J Abrams;

  –  and now Ghost Protocol from Iron Giant and Incredibles maestro Brad Bird.

… Yeah, I’m in.

Although somehow, somewhen along the way, whenever I think of the M:I franchise, I always flash on this:

* Disclosure: I’ll watch anything by Brian De Palma. Anything.

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Morph

The chickens provide fodder for tall tales in Fortress Mamea.

Yesterday, the Goddess returned home late and asked, “Did anyone feed the chickens?”

The Children Teens ignored her aural query, preferring their online and cellular communications. I allowed the pause to lengthen until I finally said, “They were picketing with signs demanding No GST on Fruit and Veges and $15 Minimum Wage NOW, so I confiscated the placards and fed the buggers.”

The Goddess gave me a gentle peck of thanks. “A simple yes would have sufficed.”

Where’s the fun in that?

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Confidence

It’s a good rule of thumb in life to take things in one’s stride with little ditties like:
- it’s gonna be okay;
- take a deep breath;
- five years from now, we’ll laugh uproariously about this moment.

The key word above is moment.

At this very moment, I’m questioning every goddamned thing about a project I’m grinding through.

It’s a project I’ve nourished for some time now, we’ve recently survived the I’ve fallen out of love with you phase, but right now, I’m asking embarrassingly basic questions like:
- what’s my hero’s motivation?
- what’s the theme of my story?
- how best can I begin my story?

I know the answers to all of the above for this project.

But they’re not enough.

Not right now.

Five years from now, I’ll chuckle gently about this moment.

For now, I’ll take a deep breath.

It’s gonna be okay.

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What Up

I’ve been bereft of ideas for posts on this site for some time. You’ve likely noticed.

Oh, I’m still writing. For my sins.

But the blogging… even just thinking about what to post about, I’ve felt… unworthy. Questions I thought I’d answered in the early days of this writing gig and blog were pulling at my sleeve again:

– Who am I to brag and boast?

– What the hell do I know?

– Why am I blogging?

The answer to the first two are kinda covered by No more than some, much less than most but the last is a tricky one.

I’m still getting ideas of what to write about, but when I sit down and stare at the blank screen – hey, I’ve uninstalled all the Call of Duty games from the harddrive (having played them through to the end, of course) – I finish the first sentence or paragraph, and the whole post I had in my head becomes too much hard work to get down.

The blogging is no longer the escape it used to be. I confess: writing is no longer the joyous experience of discovery that it used to be. Actually: it was rarely ‘joyous’ nor illuminating in that ‘discovery’ kind of way.

Writing is hard work, always has been, and it’s what I do.

I’ve taken enough time-outs. You deserve better than abrupt radio silences.

So let’s meet half-way: my (once-)weekly posting will now be monthly, maybe, gods permitting, even more than once a month.

But let’s start with what’s achievable, rather than being aspirational and all that.

Let’s try that, yes?

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Dream It

“I asked [Ayrton Senna] about dreaming,” Cronenberg said. The Brazilian replied that he “dreamed the racetrack. It’s almost like I am practising the racetrack in my dreams.” Asked the same question, [Keke] Rosberg replied abruptly: “No. Why would I dream about the racetrack? I spend too much time of my waking life on the racetracks.”

– From an interview with David Cronenberg where he talks about a failed attempt to make a Formula 1 feature.

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