Beltmann

Tonight, only enough time for a short film: Salaryman 6 / Jake Knight / Japan / 2002

I saw it a couple months ago, and overall it's not very strong, but it has some interesting aspects, including some weird reworkings of Romero, Re-Animator, and even Dead-Alive. It starts as an off-kilter horror movie, and then for a stretch it completely embraces broad, deadpan comedy--and that stretch was definitely worth seeing. Too bad it didn't stick with that.

I don't mind that Sandler movies are dumb--I mean, I love, really love stuff like Top Secret! and even Tommy Boy--it's just that I don't find them "good" dumb... although Wedding Singer wasn't too bad. I'm sure I'll rent the gay firefighter thing eventually.

I thought everybody knew Pseudo Echo was to blame.

If you can persuade all of humanity and all of future humanity to join us in thinking cosmically, I'm with ya.

Yeah, that's been in my queue for a few weeks now. I'm mostly interested because of the subject matter--and hey, it can't be any worse than Boston Public, right? Haven't seen it. Looks unbearable. While I think Sandler is an interesting guy, in general I can't stand his movies. I did catch up with Reign Over Me the other night and thought he did a pretty good job. Still, the only Sandler movie I would ever watch a second time is Punch-Drunk Love. I dunno. I'm intrigued. Have you heard about this movie called The Signal?

And he just keeps getting better. A History of Violence and Eastern Promises are two of my favorite movies of the last few years.

I totally agree with you that capitalism breeds a soulless kind of greed, but how do I know, exactly, when artists have crossed the line between making a reasonable living and shameless greed? I concede that there might be such a line, and what I'm asking is for you to tell me exactly where it is. This notion that some artists "don't need that much money" to "live a good life" is surely true, but those phrases are also far too vague for me--if I'm going to start judging the moral character of artists I don't personally know, I want to be absolutely certain that I'm on the right side of thin

I tend to feel the same way. Many of my art "heroes" were otherwise jackasses, and not really worth admiring as exemplary citizens. But no matter: My interest in them is related strictly to their art, and the other aspects of their identity usually bear zero weight in my mind.

If I'm reading you right, you are allowing that selling out is okay, but only to an extent. Which raises the question: If selling out is wrong, then why is the degree relevant--wrong is wrong, right? I guess I'm just confused about when I ought to begin judging an artist--is there a set percentage of profit that's the cutoff between "acceptable" selling out and "evil" selling out? And if so, what is that number, exactly?

Ditto.

Tempted all the time--although my variation usually involves flipping burgers. Our department also has a running contest to see who can get the most parents to burst into tears.

Ha, I actually had four hours of parent conferences tonight, so now I'm just enjoying some down time at the compy.

The other day I saw a Wilco VW ad, and hearing "You Are My Face" reminded me of the time I saw the band in Madison. Whether I like it or not, that live show has tied itself to the song in my brain, and now I think of the Overture Center and State St. when Wilco plays. This was not the original intent of the band. The music has been muddled to mean something else, and I think it's obvious that bands should no longer play live shows. Frankly, associations--whether a commercial or something else, whether sanctioned by a band or not--are an inevitable part of our relationship with art. The t

I don't think you read my post very carefully. I didn't question Tolstoy's stature as an artist--btw I teach literature in my job, so I know a thing or two about Tolstoy--but rather questioned your use of his opinion as the only possible voice among artists. Again, there are many "true artists" who may not share Tolstoy's stance, and my point was that their voice, not mine, might be equal to Tolstoy's. That was my sole point, and once again you avoided my central question: Is it possible that your presumptions are not facts? I wish I could have your confidence regarding the subject, but my

You presented their opinions as indisputable fact--as if their reputation somehow puts them beyond reproach--and that's the only point I objected to. Truth is, for every quote you trot out about the evils of mixing art with commerce, I can find another one by another famous theorist/artist/writer/musician/take-your-pick who feels differently. Tolstoy's opinion carries no more weight than any other--perhaps even less, since he made those comments in a time that bears little relationship to a modern understanding of how art often commingles freely with commerce. Is Tolstoy right? Does the pr

I think what you meant to say is that "Art is not money, at least according to Tolstoy and Richard Powers, whose definitions of art are debatable and whose opinions may or may not matter."

I thought the guitar-smashing was cringe-worthy, because it was so humorless and so obviously premeditated. I really like Arcade Fire, but that side of them really rubs me the wrong way.

Did you ever catch up with Requiem? I'd love to hear your take. I actually just bought the DVD last week. That scene where Huller goes nuts in the kitchen chilled my spine all over again.

No, he isn't. But the woman who played his wife in Climates was Ebru Ceylan, his real-life wife.

I was just joshin', dude.

Is there a difference?

Yeah, Ceylan is really interesting. Have you seen his earlier Distant? Out of obligation, a professional photographer invites his unrefined country cousin to lodge with him in Istanbul, and we watch, slowly and silently, as these two spinning wheels fail to connect--to each other, to others, to anything beyond their apartment walls. Ceylan maintains a mood of melancholy and loneliness so unrelenting that it's borderline inhospitable; at times, I felt like leaping into a set of jumping jacks. Still, I was engrossed by the way he complements the quotidian with beautiful visual symmetries, espe

No, but I really liked it. As two couples circle around various layers of betrayal, the movie focuses not on adultery itself but on the subtle, bottomless character motivations that accompany indiscretion. It also boasts extraordinary performances from all four leads, and by now everyone must know that Mark Ruffalo is the closest thing to Montgomery Clift the screen has witnessed since, well, Monty himself.