Kindness feels good
3 May 2008 | 2 Comments
Earlier this week I saw Lars and the Real Girl and if I can convince even one person to see it, I’ll feel like I’ve added a glimmer to the general light in the universe. It’s a beautiful, fine movie. I laughed out loud, I cried, I loved every single character, and when it was done I felt terrific.
And you know why? Because it was 106 minutes of people being kind to each other. A community of folks confronting difference in one of their own and responding with compassion and kindness. And that is all that happened. Someone was frightened; people were kind; and it helped. I kept waiting for the cruelty that I knew was coming because that’s what happens when wacky people make themselves vulnerable, right? But it never happened.
Isn’t that extraordinary? A movie so confident in the power and wonder of human kindness that the kindness is all we need to see. Without a trace of anything sentimental or silly. It wasn’t a fairy tale — it was a simple story of the extraordinary kindness that people are capable of in the smallest acts. It was about how we really all do make a difference to each other. And for my money, there’s more power and human truth in this movie than in all the hip ironic let’s-plumb-the-depths bullshit I’ve seen or read in the last ten years.
I’m not linking to the trailer because it spoils some of the nicest moments. Just rent the movie and watch it.
And here’s a more immediate kindness fix in the meantime (gakked from my friend Dave — you rock for making me aware of this, bro.)
I hope this story makes you feel as good as it did me. Because it’s true that the simplest kindness can change a mind or a life. And all we have to do is see past what’s awkward or scary or inconvenient or icky about someone else, to put being human above being different from me. And that matters so much.
It’s a human thing to use our differences to demonize — dehumanize — each other. It’s a human thing to let our fear make us indifferent or cruel. But it is also a human thing to be kind, to be joyful, to find love and beauty and hope where we can…. and so I find joy and beauty and hope in the kindness — fictional and real — that I have seen in the last couple of days. I believe that such kindness could save us all.
Vid it
10 April 2008 | 2 Comments
Have you heard of vidding?
Buy the DVDs of your favorite TV show or movie. Get a kickass piece of music. Load up some software. And put together diverse images and brief clips to make a music video. Chart your love for a character or relationship, explore a theme or arc. Express your connection to the show.
Tell your own story about the story that you love. To music that you love. How cool is that?
We have the technology these days to allow pretty much anyone with a computer to respond to art if they choose — by blogging, creating fan websites and community, mashing up, posting fan fiction, costuming, vidding. I love this. What joy, to be able to respond to what moves us.
Although I’m a writer, I don’t find my kicks in fan fiction even when it involves characters or stories that I love. My heart belongs to mashups and vidding, and when I think of responding to someone else’s art, it almost always involves music. I think I love these forms so much because they give me indirect access to something I yearn to do directly, but cannot. I can play music well enough, but I’m not a musician. I’m not an artist. But if I cannot create my own music, I can still choose to create something original and meaningful (to me) with someone else’s music.
Some feel that using images and music in this way is stealing. And technically, in fact, it is. But although I am a hedgehog (very prickly) about many aspects of nicking someone else’s art (see this, for example), in the case of using art to respond to art, well, I’m all for it. Nicola talked recently about fan fiction, and I agree with her — we should all be free to play. We should all be free to show our joy. We shouldn’t steal unpublished work, and we shouldn’t steal the financial benefits of published work. But that’s not what we’re talking about here. Any artist who believes they can maintain total control over every comma or pixel or note of their work is dreaming — and so why would anyone start that fight over a three-minute music video that does nothing but show love?
This is the best vid I know of, made by y-fish. It uses clips from Firefly and Serenity, and the song “Defying Gravity” from the Broadway show Wicked. I think it’s great. If you like it, let her know.
(And if you visit y-fish’s LiveJournal, be sure to note that the first comment on this vid is from Joss Whedon, the creator (along with Tim Minear) of Firefly and Serenity, who is totally non-grumpy about this use of his work. About this love.)
I wish there were a way to respond like this to a novel or short story. Imagine. Wow. If someone did something like this in response to my work, I would cry like a baby and count myself blessed.
Slings and Arrows
26 March 2008 | 3 Comments
I’ve been meaning for months to rave about Slings and Arrows because it is absolutely fabulously awesome (and available on DVD). It’s Top 5 television for me, along with Deadwood, Buffy, Firefly, The Wire, and Battlestar Galactica. (Okay, that’s six. Oh, well.)
I have a degree in acting. At one time, I wanted more than anything to be a professional film and stage actor (and if I can become a go-go dancer at 47, then I am sure as hell not giving up on acting just yet). I tend to fall in love with television that seems like Big Fun for Actors. I care about movie performances, of course — but a movie is a novella, if you will, whereas television series are novels. The best movies give me a chance to be part of a story, an experience with a specific emotional arc. The best television gives me a chance to be part of a world, to live over time with people, to go on and on from one emotional space to the next. I love that. It’s the only reason I watch television (unlike my sweetie, who adores educational programs and South Park).
And so I love Slings and Arrows. I love the people. I love that the acting and the writing are so good. I love that it’s about theatre. I love that it’s funny and gutsy and passionate and smart.
And there’s some kickass Shakespeare. I’ve done Helena (A Midsummer Night’s Dream) onstage, Lady Mac in my heart, Hermione (A Winter’s Tale) in auditions, and Ophelia’s mad scene in a bikers’ bar (but that’s another story). As well as being about life, love, and the chaos and joy of being creative, Slings and Arrows is also about the genius of Shakespeare, about finding one’s way into the words as living text rather than historical magnificence or high school torture. Absolutely brilliant stuff.
Here’s a long-ish (about 4:30) trailer for the show.
And here’s the scene that made me want to write a movie for Paul Gross one of these days.1 Because he does the best damn Ophelia I’ve ever seen.
1Oh, and I’m also dying to write for Frances McDormand, Jodie Foster, Laura Linney, Robert Downey Jr., Alan Rickman and Johnny Depp. Because they are all so interesting.
Girls rock
12 February 2008 | Leave a Comment
Everyone is beautiful in their own way, and they get even more beautiful when they start to be powerful and they decide to rock. –from Girls Rock!
Go watch some beautiful powerful girls.
Sweeney Todd…
8 January 2008 | Leave a Comment
…absolutely rocks.
I fell in love with the play in the 80’s. I’m not a huge fan of what I think of as typical Broadway musicals or Broadway singing — if I hear one more orange-haired moppet belt out “Tomorrow” in a size 20 voice, I will absolutely run screaming from the room. But Sweeney Todd worked because the songs work as story, not just as vehicles for voice.
And now we have Tim Burton and his vision for Sweeney, and it’s fantastic. Dark, sophisticated, visceral in a way that is both cartoonish and gut-churning (seriously, when the first guy lands on the pavement, I just about lost my popcorn…). This is a streamlined Sweeney, and it’s a naturalistic one. Many of the talented cast don’t have trained voices, and the ones who do are forgoing Broadway-belt-it-out in favor of showing us who and where they are, and why. Telling us a story of themselves, or giving us a window into themselves at a moment of crisis. I love this naturalistic approach to music. I’d much rather watch an actor sell a song than simply sing it to the back row.
In particular, I think the duets benefit from this approach, as well as from the intimacy of the camera. If songs are story, then duets are relationship, and these are so nuanced and compelling… great stuff. A grownup movie with strong performances and all the grand guignol that Sweeney Todd demands.
*****
And while we’re at it, I am so so so so excited about this. Heath Ledger is going to be amazing, I can just tell.
God, I love the movies.
22 January
Edited to add: And now he’ll never be amazing in anything again. God damn it, anyway.





