Salt

 A couple of days before seeing "Salt", I claimed that action movies could not hold my interest for long; that about 30 seconds into a car chase, I get bored. This still holds true. Phillip Noyce's "Salt" has a car chase that probably lasts for five minutes or so, but it felt like a solid 40 to me. There is also the issue with casting the Soviets as the villains again, twenty years after the decline of the Soviet Union: in a world dominated by other global concerns, anything evoking the Cold War simply seems outdated and out-of-touch.

On the other hand, "Salt" successfully avoids all the tedious trends the genre of spy thrillers has been exposed to in the past years. There is no cutesy bickering between the leads, masking the seriousness of their task (saving the US/the world) with irony and humour. In fact, there isn't much talking at all once Salt (Angelina Jolie), a CIA agent who spent months in a North Korean Prison, saved by her pro-active German husband (August Diehl), and now looking forward to spending the rest of her career in an office, is being told by Vassily Orlov (Daniel Olbrychski) that she is really a Russian sleeper agent who will kill the Russian president the following day. Salt flees, proving to be much more resourceful, resilient and creative than her boss (Liev Schreiber) expect (leave it to her to build a cannon out of office furniture and cleaning supplies). The viewer is left in suspense about her motives, as Salt seems to follow the path the Russian laid out for her. The anachronistic villain is the point, in a way, and doesn't even seem that far-fetched after the discovery of Russian spies living perfectly normal lives in the US a couple of months ago.

Angelina Jolie's face remains unreadable, and the performance she delivers here is stunning - she is as good an action heroine as she is a dramatic actress, and I have trouble coming up with a performance to compare this to (apparently the "Jason Bourne" trilogy would lend itself for comparisons but I've never seen any of those). For the most part, she does not even require a counterpart, just incredible amounts of adversaries who are no match for her skills. There are so few movies who feature unapologetic female heroes who do not end up with the male lead in the end (in this case, the very idea is reversed in the essential final scene, when Salt meets a man who might be able to win against her but they are separated by bullet-proof glass, so she has to rely on her ability to play pretend instead). Maybe, years after "Buffy" and "Alias" and even "Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles", the idea of female heroes will finally take hold at the movies as well - and the ending of "Salt", after all, begs for a sequel.

2010, directed by Phillip Noyce, starring Angelina Jolie, Liev Schreiber, Chiwetel Ejiofor, Daniel Olbrychski, August Diehl, Daniel Pearce, Hunt Block.

Mein Computer heißt Jonathan.

"Of course, all this does not mean that speakers of Spanish or French or German fail to understand that inanimate objects do not really have biological sex — a German woman rarely mistakes her husband for a hat, and Spanish men are not known to confuse a bed with what might be lying in it. Nonetheless, once gender connotations have been imposed on impressionable young minds, they lead those with a gendered mother tongue to see the inanimate world through lenses tinted with associations and emotional responses that English speakers — stuck in their monochrome desert of “its” — are entirely oblivious to."

NY Times: Does Your Language Shape How You Think?, August 26, 2010

Dollhouse – I’m going to make you an offer.

Dollhouse: 1x07 Echoes.

The titular sentence of this episode – “I’m going to make you an offer” – stands for everything the Dollhouse pretends to be. It’s Adelle’s justification for what she is doing. It is the pretence of a choice, of a required consent to what happens to the Actives. In the beginning of the episode, we see more of the scene that started the show, Adelle talking to Caroline, in a situation where she is the one making the rules, where Adelle is the one with all the power. In “Echoes”, we learn a bit more about how she ended up there (the second part of that story is told in “Getting Closer”). Adelle needs this more than Caroline because she functions in this environment only if she believes that what they are doing is not completely wrong, morally (I firmly believe that her disgust with Nolan in “Belonging” is  honest and heartfelt).

Adelle: “I’m going to make you an offer.”
Caroline: “I told you all I wanted was to be left alone.”
Adelle: “We both know we’re past that.”
[…]
Adelle: “My offer is this. Your life for your life. I get five years, you get the rest. You’d be free.”
Caroline: “Is that you talking, or the Rossum Corporation? Why me, why did you pick me?”
Adelle: “Caroline, you picked us. This is a good thing, Caroline.”
Caroline: “I know what I saw. What started this.”
Adelle: “You and I have been doing this dance for almost two years. I thought you’d have learned by now: nothing what it appears to be. “

The promise of freedom is just as empty as the promise that a clean slate is possible. We know now that the man in the suit upstairs has ordered Adelle to bring in Caroline at all costs, and that there is no alternative to her joining the Dollhouse because she has been made out to be the future, the saviour.

It’s significant that this episode also offers an insight into Adelle’s reasoning when she is less inhibited because of the drugs.

Adelle: “We make choices. I’m well aware there are forces beyond our control but even in the face of those forces we make choices, and then we live with them. And then we die with them. I know why Echo went to Freemont.”
Topher: “To punish you?”
Adelle: “To let Caroline punish me.”

“In my dream, I’m stronger than you know.”

It’s interesting how early into the show Ballard’s role as the hero of the story was so thoroughly deconstructed. He tries taking care of Mellie, now that he is unemployed and she still suffers shock from having been attacked (and subsequently killed the man who did attack her), but this doesn’t go as far as losing sight of his one and only aim in life, which is bringing down the Dollhouse and rescuing the princess. I suppose we are still meant to cheer him on at this point, especially since we read Mellie’s attempts to stop him not as concern, but as her programming, but it is still difficult to like a character that is so single-minded (I have the same issues with Caroline in this episode and until the end of the show). Mellie is equally single-minded, but in her case it’s the programming. We see how frustrating it must be to be programmed to feel this way about somebody, and then witness how Paul is still obsessing about Caroline (“Are you ever gonna shut up about her? Is she what you think about while you’re on me? Would you let me die Paul, would you be relieved? Ow.” – is the first thing she says in the Dollhouse, once the drugs start having an effect on the dolls as well)

“I have to go. I have to help him.”

“Man on the Street” is also a turning point in the show because from now on, the focus is not on how Echo retains information that should be gone after her treatment: it’s the fact that Caroline’s character trait of wanting to help everybody at all costs is something she instinctually has to fulfil as well. When she sees what is happening on the College campus that Caroline, incidentally, also went to, she knows that she has to help, although she no clear memories of why, and the biography of her imprint does not match her instincts. When Boyd follows her there, not knowing that he is putting himself in danger because everybody who isn’t an Active is influenced by the escaped drug, her instinct to help even overwrites what we are meant to believe is her most basic programming. He asks her if she wants her treatment, and she breaks the script and says “no”.

The interesting concept behind making everybody who isn’t an Active into a potential target for the drug, and therefore helpless and dependent on the Actives, is the role-reversal. Eventually, those with the Active Architecture will again be the saviours of humanity, and this is just a little insight into that possibility (also, the Dolls are also affected by the drug: they remember their most traumatic memories which they shouldn’t even have, and we find out that Victor used to be a soldier). It’s also an interesting idea to have this episode right after Mellie was revealed to be an Active, because it basically ends some speculation about who else might be one: We see Boyd, Topher, Dominic and Adelle affected – but Claire is mysteriously absent from the episode…

Essentially, the traumas that the people in this episode can not get over or forget are what makes them who they are. Sierra and Priya will struggle with the rape for the rest of the series. Victor / Anthony will always be a soldier. Echo will always have Caroline’s instinct to help the helpless – Echo’s story parallels the events that lead to Caroline sitting in this room, opposite Adelle, making a choice that isn’t really one. In the end, Adelle is recruiting again:

Adelle: “I'm someone who can give you what you want.”
Sam: “And what do I want?”
Adelle: “A new life. A better life.”
Adelle: “Your mother, Antoinette Jennings of 483 Helena Street. I understand she's experiencing some financial difficulties. In fact, she's about to lose her home.”
Sam: “Do not threaten my mother.”
Adelle: “Quite the opposite.”
Adelle: “Once you sign these papers, your mother will begin receiving a monthly stipend large enough to solve her financial problems. It will continue for five years, and at the end of that time, you will be quite capable of supporting her all on your own.”
Sam: “How?”
Adelle: “I'm going to make you an offer.”

Random notes:

This is the first time that we see Ambrose. Topher’s reaction: “I might throw up. That’s a compliment.” Adelle’s is different:

Adelle: “The Rossum Corporation is why we exist and I believe in the work we’re funding. I also believe that the only reason why I don’t have Clive Ambrose’s jobs is because he couldn’t handle mine.”

Of course Topher would give Victor an imprint that outranks Mr. Dominic’s just for the fun of it.

Topher and Adelle “under the influence” are comic gold. Joss always uses some kind of excuse to bring out the most ridiculous sides of his most sober characters (Giles and Joyce in “Band Candy”, the new and improved Wesley in “Spinning the Bottle”), and who could be better suited than Adelle DeWitt.

Adelle: “Are you making any progress?”
Topher: “I'm working! What are you doing, besides ... being ...”
Adelle: “Being what?”
Topher: “Wait a minute.”
Adelle: “Sarcastic? Unfeeling? British?”
Topher: “It's an animal.”
Adelle: “Where?”
Topher: “No! The word!”
Adelle: “Still you have to admit I am very British. I don't say hard ... Rs.”
Topher: “You know what I like? Brown Sauce? What's it made of? Science doesn't know!”
Adelle: “It's made of brown.”
Topher: “Brown...mined from the earth by the hard scrabble brown miners of north Brownderton!”
Adelle: “Oh my god, I find lentils completely incomprehensible.”
[…]
Topher: “Our problems are huge and indomitable.”
Adelle: “Oh, I could eat that word. Or a crisp. Do you have any crisps?”
Topher: “You haven't seen my drawer of inappropriate starches?”
Adelle: “Oh my god, I’m having such a terrible day.”

I also love that they decided to go back to Topher’s trampoline in this episode (and Adelle is using it) – and the looks of complete awe at the beauty of Boyd’s piano song is something to behold.

It’s sad that we didn’t get to see more of Dominic. I still find it difficult to reconcile the person we see in season one with the Dominic that is later stuck in the attic – but at least he gets a bit of redemption by making a complete fool of himself here.

Mr. Dominic: “I’m so sorry I tried to kill you.”
Echo: “It’s okay.”
Mr. Dominic: “No, it’s not okay. I tried to burn you to death. Who does that?”

Echo’s response, by the way, was incredibly reminiscent of “Buffy”, but I couldn’t find out from which episode. Eventually I’ll watch the show again. (Oh: In “Angel”, “Hey, no big. Water... over the bridge, under the  bridge...”

“You know. Water. Bridge. Under.”

Linkliste unbehandelter Themen

Politics: 

A large number of US combat troops left Iraq last week, before their deadline in the beginning of September. The remaining troops will help to build up Iraqi security forces and military. The withdrawal comes with a rise in attacks, assassination and attempted killings. 

Foreign Affairs proposes a way of bringing the now nine-year-old Doha talks to an end. 

The Doha Round was launched in November 2001 with the ambitious goal of liberalizing world trade and lifting living standards around the globe, especially in the least developed nations of the world. An agreement on the Round would offer universal economic benefits by reducing farm subsidies, opening up new markets, and spurring investment.

[link]

This SWP study deals with the situation in Sudan before the January 2011 referendum about Southern independence.

Christoph Schlingensief died last week.

Pop Culture: 

I read this novel when I was 10 (the German title is quite an elegant translation: "Morgen war Krieg"). It might have contributed to my fascination with apocalyptic scenarios. The trailer for the movie... isn't that great. 

One of my problems might be that I always pictured the kids a bit younger. 

io9 lists some of the novels to look forward to in the coming months. I can't wait for William Gibson's Zero History.

Channel4 finally released bloopers of the fourth season of Skins. DO YOU LOVE MY GIRLFRIEND?

In other Lily Loveless is lovely related news, someone found information about a seven minute short movie that was shown at the East End Festival back in April. The director of Seven PM was promptly hunted down via twitter and interviewed by afterellen.

When Planets Collide.

"Our history is incomplete"

One - This is the new video from The Thermals. 

Two - The song is called "I Don't Believe You". 

Three - Their new record comes out on September 7th, 2010, and is titled "Personal Life".

Four - That's Carrie Brownstein.

Five - From Sleater-Kinney.

Six - Sleater-Kinney and The Thermals are my favourite bands.

Mut zum Gegenwind

"Schlingensief war einer der größten Künstler, die je gelebt haben", schreibt Elfriede Jelinek in einer ersten Reaktion auf den Tod des deutschen Regisseurs und Filmemachers. "Mit einer so unglaublichen Kraft hat er alle um sich geschart, seine Gruppe Behinderter, dann auch Schauspielerinnen, Schauspieler, Menschen, die wie von einer umgekehrten Fliehkraft buchstäblich an ihn herangerissen wurden (die er an sich gerissen hat), und mit ihnen hat er hat seine Projekte durchgezogen, vorangepeitscht, auch das Projekt seines Opernhauses in Afrika - ich dachte immer, so jemand kann nicht sterben. Das ist, als ob das Leben selbst gestorben wäre."
DerStandard: Jelinek: "Es kann keinen wie ihn mehr geben", 21. August 2010

Gestern noch das Interview in der Spex gelesen. Im Deutschunterricht hieß es immer, "Schlingensief verstehe ich nicht", und allein deswegen war dann das Interesse geweckt.

Skins – Sometimes I think I was born backwards.

Skins: 1x08 Effy.

Effy is fit and mysterious.
Everybody loves her.
Nobody breaks her heart.
Love, love love, what is it good for? Absolutely nothing.

Sometimes I wonder where Effy comes from. She is such a highly conceptual character, it’s impossible not to wonder what the process of creating her was like. She has a specific function in the first generation: she is the perceptive outsider who only needs one tiny look to understand everything that is going on, and occasionally it entertains her to intervene. She doesn’t speak. She, more than once, breaks the fourth wall, looking directly at the camera as if she could see us, behind it, as if she could completely take us apart as well as she does the people surrounding her. Part of the reason why she needs to be such a strong character is because she has to be a match for her overbearing brother – she has to be the one person that Tony Stonem loves, the one person he would actually die for (since it was implied in “Michelle” that he doesn’t really feel that way about his girlfriend). There are so many intense sibling relationships in “Skins”, but this one is the most developed. I still think that the only good thing that came out of the “Effy has always been mad”-storyline that is otherwise horrible for her character is that the one thing Dr. Foster could not erase, the one trauma he was unable to fix, was Tony’s accident. He easily got rid of Freddie and Cook, but Tony is like the other side of the coin and a part of Effy that can not be deleted (by the way, while Tony was only mentioned in a throwaway-comment in season three by Katie, there is actually a season 3 video diary in which Effy, while still on the run with Cook, is sending Tony a video message in which she begs him to come and rescue her, but not hurt Cook). When she talks about him to Foster, it’s probably the first time that we hear actual awe in her voice, for his accomplishments, for how far he’s come, for how special he is, and it’s the same with Tony, talking about Effy here. I think it’s clear from the recaps so far that I am not very fond of Tony Stonem, but his relationship to Effy, his protectiveness of her, is the one exception.

So while this episode is Effy’s, it’s really about Tony, about how slowly every little thing he used to be sure of gets taken away from him. It’s really not the bus that transforms him, he is already going through a change here, walking the streets of Bristol alone because none of his friends wants to talk to him, because all of them are sticking with Michelle. There is a beautiful symmetry here to Effy after she hit Katie over the head with a rock: Sitting in her room, going through her directory, desperately trying to talk to someone.

This is probably not the right episode yet to talk about this, but another one of these magic moments of creation (also: casting) is Pandora. Pandora isn’t in this episode, but the friend Effy’s with, the horrible, obnoxious friend who never stops talking, makes her absence almost palpable. It’s probably a bit far-fetched to say that Effy is more stable when Pandora is around – but part of Effy’s crisis in season three came with Panda’s absence, and her spiral continued throughout season four, in which Panda was nowhere to be seen for the most part (which, of the many things that season got wrong, is probably one of the most unforgivable mistakes).

Even though the viewer follows both Effy and Tony, the moment where we realize that something is terribly wrong is probably only when Tony tries to pick up Effy from the police station, finds out that someone has already pretended to be her brother and signed her out, and then gets beaten up badly on the street when he tries to follow her. “Emily” was the most thoroughly exercised genre-episode of “Skins”, but this comes pretty close to following the structure of a classic thriller, in which the conspiracy is revealed step by step until we finally meet the man behind the curtain.

“Hi this is Effy’s phone. She’s currently cruising at 35000 feet and there’s definitely turbulence ahead.”

Friendship: even though he is mad at Tony, even though everybody has decided to shun him for Michelle’s sake, there is no question that Sid is going to help him once he sees his marks and hears about Effy. Sid sees Cassie everywhere they go (both of them chasing a ghost, in a way) – Tony even makes this idea explicit when he says, jokingly, “maybe she’s haunting you because she tried to kill herself over you.”

Sid: You know. She may be having a bit of fun, a joke at your expense.”
Tony: “That’s not her style. No. I know Effy. She’s cleverer than this. In fact she’s the cleverest fucking person I know.”

This episode is so perfectly assembled: we follow Tony and Sid and their odyssey to find Effy, although it should be clear by now that something has to allow them to go where she is, they won’t just find her. At the same time, we see Effy being led into this creepy villa in nowhere: “This is where rich kids come to die”, and finally, Josh reveals himself. “Hello Effy. I’m Jesus Christ”. Then, they inject her with heroin, and she speaks the first lines in the series, the lines she will be measured against for her entire run on the show:

“Sometimes I think I was born backwards. You know. Come out my mum the wrong way. I hear words go past me backwards. The people I should love, I hate. And the people I hate…”

I’ve never read this to mean that she is mad, or battling a mental illness. I think this episode spends so much time on establishing that her perception of the world is different than everybody else’s; that she doesn’t really fit, and especially not into the Stonem family. She, and to a certain degree Tony as well, are at odds with this world, and they don’t accept the rules. I think there was strength in this that got lost with the decision to name her monsters and her illness.

This is the last moment of the old Tony we get, before he realizes what he did when he set up Josh, that he is responsible for what is happening to Effy.

Sid: “Why did you do that? You know what Tony. Sometimes I don’t know why we’re friends anymore.”
Tony: “It's weird, isn't it? I'm from Mars, you're from Venus. I do things, you worry about them. I sleep with girls, you persuade them to attempt suicide.”
And then Tony slaps Sid. And then Tony punches Sid.

Tony: “Sid, you better not be crying.”
Sid: “I'm not crying cause you punched me.”
Tony: “Oh, crying for the kids in Africa?”
Sid: “You know I used to so look up to you, don’t you?”
Tony: “Of course I did. You were home every night wanking your brains out, oh some day I’ll be like Tony, some day I’ll be like Tony.”
Sid: “And now I could think of nothing worse than being you. You’ve always been selfish. You did things because you wanted something, fine, makes sense. But now, you do things because you can. You fuck with people. And I don’t get why. You got no friends, no girlfriends, only your parents left. Not even Effy is answering your calls. You’re right. She is clever.”
Tony: “Every time you talk Sid, little flecks of spit, they are coming out your mouths, and they go into my face.”

Tony has no idea whatsoever why Sid is his friend. I think he mostly keeps people around because he needs an audience – most of his existence is about performing, although he probably only realizes the extent of this at the end of this episode. Cassie appears more like a ghost here, someone who pops up mysteriously to remind Sid that he has options (once again, it’s not at all about her, sadly).
The moments Cassie and Sid get are incredibly romantic of course, especially compared to what happens between either Tony and Michelle or Michelle and Sid. It’s easy to love the small scene between them in the café, when Sid is waiting for her, not really sure whether he actually saw her or whether his mind was just playing tricks on him, and then she draws the ketchup moustache on his sugar smiley face (Mad Twatter, after all, brought them together in a way). Everything before the kiss (Tony punched me. / Wow. Really that’s excellent / Is it? / We had a course in it at the centre. Separation anxiety. He’s worried he’s losing you.) and after is about Tony, although this is the one instance where Sid going after Tony is a good thing – but this is where Cassie realizes that this is never going to be a fair game. At that point, Sid is the one person who has all the necessary information to know that Tony is in trouble (he knows that Tony played Josh, and that Tony is heading where Josh is, after Michelle calls him).

Tony getting picked up by the guy on the moped to go where “the rich kids come to die” seems like a descent into the underworld, almost. The sports club is such an amazing set – the strobing lights with Skream’s “Angry” playing in the background, making it almost impossible to perceive the place coherently, until Tony finally stumbles into Josh’s “lair”. He calls Michelle before that because he already knows that this isn’t going to end well, and it’s the first honest conversation they have in the entire series:

Tony: “This is the weirdest fucking night of my life.”
Michelle: “What do you want me to do Tony?”
Tony: “Nothing. Gotta go.”

Then it’s all about this strange sense the first scene of the episode established: the two Stonem siblings, aliens in their own family, completely out of place, and they kind of only have each other and most importantly, only really understand each other.
Then “wobbly” Josh, who says “I’m god”, tells Tony that the payback for putting naked pictures of his sister on his phone is making him fuck Effy. His transformation into an irrational yet, at the same time, completely calm and serious villain, works so well because he seemed so nice before in comparison to Tony. Josh was built up to be the contrast to Tony, for Michelle. At the end of season four, “Skins” tried to play to the same deep fears – that a person you thought you could depend on turns out to be crazy and willing to abuse his power – but the moment where Josh and his lackeys smash Tony’s telephone still seems more shocking and terrifying to me than Dr John Foster quietly approaching with the baseball bat. So far, “Skins” only had Mad Twatter and a couple of terribly inadequate parents. Josh comes out of nowhere. He is not ridiculous. There is no joke at the end of this at his expense (“You only need to ask. Here endeth the lesson” – and thus, Josh leaves “Skins” forever). This is the transformative moment for Tony, when he carries out his unconscious sister and Sid is there waiting for him, to drive them to the hospital. Considering how cruel he was before all this, he realizes that he needs Sid not just as an audience, but because he’d be helpless without him. At the hospital, when his parents blame Tony for what’s happened to Effy (without even knowing why he is to blame), Sid stands up for him.

Jim: “You and your horrid little ways, always at others people expense.”
Sid: “Hang on. That’s enough. He loves Effy. Don’t you think it’s hard enough?”
Jim: “And who the fuck are you?”
Sid: “I’m his best friend.”
Jim: “And I’m his fucking father.”
Sid: “I know what you are.”

“Skins” is all about how parents fuck up their children and how you make your own makeshift family that is more reliable – especially during the first gen. Being Tony’s father is completely irrelevant. Being his best friend, despite everything, is what matters.

I think it’s impossible to view the last scene in the hospital hallway and not remember the scene in the fourth season where Freddie is waiting outside after Effy’s suicide attempt, as his sister helps him to build the origami swan. All the pivotal scenes about Effy take place in hospitals (in season three, everybody abandoned her in a hospital hallway after she hit Katie over the head with a rock), and even though the circumstances are completely different here, the other characters define each other by how they react to what happens with her. Freddie can’t cope and wants to run away (which, as Jamie Brittain, ever so subtle,  so beautifully put it, is why he deserved to die), while Tony finds  out something essential about himself and about his friendship with Sid (which I guess is why he didn’t die).

Tony: “The thing is, I know I can be a wanker sometimes. But everyone likes that, don’t they?”
Sid: “We don’t have to do this now.”
Tony: “Then I start to feel distorted. Because, because I’m more than that. And I don’t wanna be a wanker. I don’t Sid. And Effy knows that. She loves me for who I really am. God. I sound like fucking Lionel Richie.”
Sid: “I quite like Lionel Richie.”
Tony: “All I know is I was scared tonight. And I was a bit, you know. And I wanted you there. Effy is different and I sort of own her because she is my sister but with you, I just really wanted you there. And then you were, in the car…”
Sid: “The thing is, Tony, you sort of own me too. Mostly in a good way.”

Now and then, “Skins” gets these moments so exactly right. No matter what happened before, when it’s really important, friendships prevail. Freddie comes to save Cook. Jal is there when Michelle needs someone to talk to, and Michelle is there when Jal is in trouble.

Random notes:

This is such a visual episode – and it’s really hard to describe most of it in words. There is always this trip-like feeling to Effy’s episodes (although in the fourth season, this probably applies more to “Freddie” than “Effy”), but this is the prime example, especially because she doesn’t talk and music plays such an important part.

I mentioned before how the scene where Effy sneaks out and Tony lies under her covers with one of her socks to trick the Stonems is one of my favourite involving Tony, right? IT IS. Siblings who wear each other’s clothes for some reason is a recurring theme in “Skins” (off the top of my head: Effy wearing Tony’s sweater while he’s in the hospital, Emily dressing up as Katie to sit her exam and getting rid of the dress at the love ball, Karen wearing Freddie’s t-shirt when he’s gone).

Everybody building that giant pyramid from sugar cubes might be one of my favourite group scenes in “Skins”, ever. Compare to the relative awkwardness of the pub scene in “Cook” – the only scene that comes close is the scene in the woods in “Effy”, season three, and that didn’t turn out so well.

Michelle: “It’s a sort of thing though, isn’t it? First loves?”
Jal: “You think Tony loves you?”
Michelle: “No. I don’t.”
Jal: “Sorry. That sounded far less harsh in my head.”

Jal is like Naomi, but with friends.

Josh’s “She’s dying over there Tony, you better get hard” – if you hadn’t realized that “Skins” wasn’t kidding around, that’s what really drove it home. Holy fuck, years of watching American television did not prepare me for this. I felt shell-shocked in that scene, like Tony.

I’m still not sure how I’ll deal with the “Tony” episode of season two because it seems very connected to this one but… SUBTLETLY. IT’S IMPORTANT.

Linkliste unbehandelter Themen

I don't know if I can keep this up but maybe this will be a regular Wednesday item instead of something that happens whenever the number of links stored just seems too pressing. 

Politics:

Something seems to be terribly off in France: While articles trying to describe the issues in the banlieues have been a constant reminder of the failed migration and employment policies of the last years, targeting and mass deportation of Romas are new.

Paul Krugman and Rachel Maddow have used the unpaving of roads in Michigan, Pennsylvania, North Dakota and Indiana as an indicator for the continuing economic crisis and especially the enormous budget deficits of some US states and counties. This article in Slate argues that it might be a sound solution especially for roads that aren't used much, since gravel roads are much cheaper to maintain, and that this is also a sign of the depopulation of certain areas.

Pop Culture: 

CBC has a long and interesting interview with Ellen Page.

Jonathan Safran Foer talks to Die Zeit about meat. I'm currently more interested in plastic and how supermarkets manage to wrap vegetables in incredible amounts of it while the kind you can buy non-pre-wrapped are always more expensive and obviously less fresh. I also find it somewhat discouraging that the first initiative that pops up on google when it comes to plastic bags in Austria is a Freedom Party one from 2006. I remember stores in Dublin only offering paper bags when I was there in 2004, so why exactly does this need extensive studies before anything can happen?

Ginger Snaps

“Our little girl is a young woman now.”

 After I read about Diablo Cody saying that „Jennifer’s Body“ would have inspired her to create if she had seen it as a teenager, I went back to the movie and tried to figure out which aspects of it exactly are supposed to tie in with the essential idea of riot grrrl: and none did. I don’t find it empowering. I don’t find it a particularly apt insight into how complex relationships between teenage girls can be. I think it succeeds on the level of being ironic about the objectification of the titular character, and the actress portraying her, but beyond that I didn’t feel particularly inspired at all.
Then I saw “Ginger Snaps”. I knew that this little Canadian film from 2000 existed, but somehow I had myself convinced that it would be a different movie somehow, one that would hold no interest for me at all. The thing is: “Ginger Snaps” is exactly the kind of movie Diablo Cody describes when she talks about “Jennifer’s Body”. There are two sisters, Brigitte (Emily Perkins) and Ginger (Katharine Isabell), a year apart (15 and 16) but in the same grade, since Brigitte skipped one. They have a very tight bond – mostly over the fact that both of them abhor the idea of the physical reality of being a woman, while their mother anxiously awaits the onset of their first period. The film presents several reasons for this: they detest the teenage girls in their school who are only interested in boys and make them outsiders (instead of hanging out with their peers, they make movies and photos of fake suicide attempts à la “Harold and Maude”). This bond is the one thing connecting them against a seemingly unwelcoming world of people who don’t understand them at all, especially their parents (“United against life as we know it.”).
Then, two things happen at once: Ginger gets her first period, which drives a wedge between the two sisters, and she gets bitten by a monster. The changes she goes through coalesce – Ginger suddenly understands that getting attention by the boys means power and she enjoys that, and while she struggles to hide the physical evidence of turning into a werewolf (most painfully, a tail and body hair), she also discovers an unfortunate appetite for tearing living things apart (“I get this ache, and I thought it was for sex”, she says at one point, but it’s not). The metaphor works because ultimately, becoming a werewolf is like catching a transmitted disease, and Ginger passes it on through unprotected sex.
The tagline of “Jennifer’s Body”, “Hell is a teenage girl”, is realized here, and “Ginger Snaps” has a more elegant way of drawing parallels between the two. Nobody suspects that the terror that is now haunting the neighbourhood has its roots in the behaviour of a teenage girl, because “A girl can only be a slut, a bitch, a tease, or the virgin next door.” – but not a monster that tears things to pieces.
Brigitte tries saving her sister, but she fails ultimately and becomes exactly the same thing, in a way fulfilling the promise of being together forever.

2000, directed by John Fawcett, starring Emily Perkins, Katharine Isabelle, Kris Lemche, Mimi Rogers, Jesse Moss, John Bourgeois, Peter Keleghan.

...chased forever from our historical memory by the dog he invented

"But perhaps the greatest act of historical castration is of Jack London. This man was the most-read revolutionary Socialist in American history, agitating for violent overthrow of the government and the assassination of political leaders—and he is remembered now for writing a cute story about a dog. It's as if the Black Panthers were remembered, a century from now, for adding a pink tint to their afros."

Slate: Jack London's Dark Side, August 15, 2010

Dollhouse - And we will be over. As a species. We will cease to matter

Dollhouse: 1x06 Man on the Street.

The question of how the technology that is the premise of “Dollhouse” shapes and changes society has been in the background of the show so far. The episodes leading up to “Man on the Street” were about Echo’s self-realization, about the question of whether the promise of a tabula rasa is real or not. “Man on the Street” starts outside the confines of the Dollhouse, on the streets of LA where the reality we’ve been confronted with is nothing but an urban legend. How people react to the potential of that urban legend being true reveals a lot about society. The reactions range from “where is the dotted line” at the promise of money and partying with rich people without remembering anything to the compelling conclusion that :

“Oh it’s happening. If there is one things people will always need it’s slaves. […] There's only one reason why someone would volunteer to be a slave, and that's that he is one already.”

, which mirrors what Echo, after Alpha’s intervention, is going to tell the original copy of Caroline (“I have thirty-eight brains. Not one of them thinks you can sign a contract to be a slave.”)

Ballard / Caroline

There is a progression in this episode: in the beginning, Ballard watches that video he received of Caroline on campus. Later, we will find out that the seemingly innocent girl was already involved with a terrorist cell, but in Ballard’s head, she is the personified evil of the Dollhouse, robbing an innocent woman of her identity. He can’t put a face to the Dollhouse, but through the items he receives, he has a very clear image of the victims in his head. Ballard isn’t introspective enough to realize that this very mechanism, of casting Caroline as the damsel in distress, he is doing exactly the same thing the clients of the Dollhouse do with the Actives. He casts her in his fantasy of himself as the knight in shiny armour, and it takes one of the hated clients of the Dollhouse to point that out to him.
It starts in a conversation with Mellie.

Ballard: “That’s one more tiny step closer to bringing her in.”
Mellie: “Them.”
Ballard: “What?”
Mellie: “Bringing them in. You said her.”

One of the many twists in this episode is that Paul has such a clear picture in his head of what a client of the Dollhouse is going to be like, and then Joel tells him the story of how he lost his wife and this is his way of coping with it. Paul never comes close to grasping what the Dollhouse is, not even when he starts working for it, and he only comprehends Echo’s complexity after he has the architecture installed himself, but this is a first glimpse into the concept that the world isn’t black and white. For Ballard, everything that’s happening in this episode is a box in a box in a box (although he won’t really notice until he finds out what Mellie is) – but we do, and it casts him in a new light, it destroys what has been a fairly conventional structure so far (good cop pursues morally bankrupt evil-doers with limited resources).

Ballard: “What’s her name?”
Joel: “Rebecca. She told you.”
Ballard: “Really. How do you know Rebecca?”
Joel: “We’ve been married for seven years.”
Ballard: “So that’s your fantasy. All the money in the world, the most elaborate high class underground operation ever designed and you just want to play house. I guess the rich really are different.”
Joel: “Why? What’s your fantasy?”
Ballard: “Oh I’m okay right here in the real world, thanks.”
Joel: "You have a fantasy ok?. We all do. We need it to survive. And I think your fantasy is about my Rebecca.”
Ballard: “Her name is Caroline. […] A few years ago she was a student and then she had her identity ripped from her so she could play love slave to every little loser with a wad of cash.”
Joel: “…Then the brave little FBI agent whisked her away from the cash-wielding losers and restored her true identity, and she fell in love with him. […] I mean, she, she changed things for you. So you’re the head of this FBI task force to uncover the Dollhouse, and you’re working hard, you’re chasing leads, you’re cracking skulls, but it’s just work. And then you meet this girl or you… you see her somewhere, huh? Caroline? And suddenly it gets personal. Tell me you haven’t thought about it. You know, her, her grateful tears, her, her welcoming embrace, her warm breath. Are you married?
Ballard: “Was.”
Joel: “Oh, that’s… Is there someone in your life right now?”
Ballard: “This is getting old.”
Joel: “Of course not. No, there’s no room for a real girl, is there, when you can feel Caroline beckoning? You know, I have to say I-I think your fantasy is even sadder than mine.”
[…]
Ballard: “This is all going to come apart. You might not be punished and I might not be alive, but this house will fall.”
Joel: “The first hurdle in my business is the people who will not accept the change that’s already happened. Go. Go live in your real world. If you ever did.”

“Dollhouse” is going to spend the first half of the second season to drive home the point that Echo isn’t Caroline anymore. The person Ballard has in mind when he says “Caroline” does not correspond with any reality, it’s a construct just as much as Echo performing as Rebecca is (with the difference that Echo believes in that second construct).

The scene in which Ballard comes home after hearing all of this, and it has left marks, is also all about interpretation and attribution. We see Mellie, the good-hearted neighbour, who has obviously been pining for Paul all this time, and finally, she gets what she wants. We see Paul, who has just been told that the fact that he doesn’t have a girlfriend shows that he isn’t any better than a client of the Dollhouse, trying everything to prove Joel wrong. The reveal that Mellie is a doll and therefore Paul has done exactly what he was trying to avoid by sleeping with her, works so well because it completely destroys our expectations. At the same time, OF COURSE Mellie is a doll, how couldn’t she be. She spent most of her days waiting for Paul to get home, but there are so many romantic movies that use this old plot, the plain-looking girl pining for the hero and finally succeeding, that this single-mindedness doesn’t even appear strange anymore.

Paul gets what he wanted for years now in this episode; and at the same time, everything is taken away from him with the same breath. Someone meddles with Topher’s imprint of Echo and makes her a messenger, but she also follows her original purpose of having Ballard lose his job.

Echo: “The Dollhouse is real. They know you’re after them and they are going to have you taken off the case. That’s why they sent me.”
Paul: “Why are you telling me this?”
Echo: “We have a person inside. This person corrupted the imprint while the programmer wasn’t looking, added this parameter.”
Paul: “Is this the person that sent me the tapes and pictures?”
Echo: “No. This is their first communication. Security inside is very tight.”
Paul: “Where is it?”
Echo: “You can’t know that. You’re going about this the wrong way.”
Paul: “I have to take down the Dollhouse!”
Echo: “There are over twenty Dollhouses, in cities around the world. They have ties to every major political power on the planet. You cannot possibly stop them alone. You’re going to help me? The person that sent this message is.”
Paul: “Why?”
Echo: “The Dollhouse deals in fantasy. That is their business, but that is not their purpose.”
Paul: “What is?”
Echo: “We need you to find out. We’ll contact you again, if possible with this same body. But you have to let the Dollhouse win. Make them back off. You have to trust me.”

(first of: why would Alpha choose to have Echo lie about this being their first conversation? We saw him watch that video in the first episode, so I assumed that he sent it to Paul. It was also established that only Alpha would have the technical skill to hack Topher’s imprints. Am I missing something here? Alpha’s ultimate goal is having Ballard get him into the Dollhouse, right?)

The question for the “purpose” is of course another thing entirely. Ballard knows that technology, once it exists, will be used. We later find out that Boyd understands completely where this technology is going to lead, and has been working on a way to cop-out of his own creation all these years. The purpose, of the Dollhouse, is changing society completely and fundamentally, to an extent, as the theologian (note: not a man on the street, but someone in a class room) in the end of the episode argues, that it becomes unrecognizable and brings the end of civilization.

THERE ARE THREE FLOWERS IN A VASE: THE THIRD FLOWER IS GREEN. / THERE ARE THREE FLOWERS IN A VASE. THE THIRD FLOWER IS YELLOW.

“Forget morality. Imagine it’s true, all right. Imagine this technology being used. Now imagine it being used on you. Everything you believe, gone. Everyone you love, strangers. Maybe enemies. Every part of you that makes you more than a walking cluster on neurons dissolved at someone else’s whim. If that technology exists—it’ll be used. It’ll be abused. It’ll be global. And we will be over. As a species. We will cease to matter. I don’t know, maybe we should.”

Sierra

“Man on the Street” is also the first complete destruction of the seemingly safe haven that is the Dollhouse. Sierra’s handler has been abusing her, and when Adelle confronts him with it, after Boyd figures it all out, he says “You put a bunch of stone foxes with no willpower and no memory running around naked. Did you think this wouldn’t ever happen?” After all, the Dollhouse deals with the things that make human beings work, they profit from exactly the kind of urges, and yet, there were no precautions against this. Hearn uses a cruel call-and-response before raping Sierra – exactly the thing that “The Target” established as this comfortable, ultimate human tie to establish trust between a handler and an Active.

Hearn: “Do you trust me?”
Sierra: “With my life.”
Hearn: “Do you want to play the game?”
Sierra: “No.”
Hearn: “But you remember to be very quite during the game, right?”
Sierra: “Noise is upsetting.”
Hearn: “Lift up your dress.”

We will get hints that Adelle has an infinitely more optimistic view of what they are doing than others do, but this really begs the question of whether this kind of naivety didn’t contribute to the Dollhouse getting “out of order”. We also see how heavily Adelle is starting to rely on Echo, who is all-too ready to come and help (when Boyd and Claire discuss Victor and Sierra, she volunteers “When we go to sleep, when we go into the pods, Sierra cries”, although she shouldn’t even be able to understand that there is an issue.)

For me, the most touching scene of the episode is actually almost small compared to the enormity of what is happening. It happens when Claire, Topher and Boyd are interrogating Victor.

Claire: “How is she different?”
Victor: “I’m sorry.”
Claire: “Victor, do you remember being in the showers with Sierra? You were watching her? How does Sierra make you feel?”
Victor: “Better.”

So much of what is happening in the Dollhouse is about specific fantasies, written scenarios, urges shaped into stories that are then performed by the ultimate actors. Hearing Victor say something so essential about humanity, about what makes us function as human beings, is just completely heart-breaking.

Adelle

While we get to know all these secrets and learn more about Ballard, Adelle still remains a mystery, a wild card in a way.

Dominic: “You played a good hand, ma’am.”
Adelle: “I played a very bad hand very well. There is a distinction.”

She knows that she is potentially losing control (we know to what extent, as she doesn’t even know that Echo’s imprint was tampered with). When Echo, afterwards, tells her that “It isn’t finished” (a picture of a house that she has drawn), and Adelle realizes that she is referencing her meeting with Joel that isn’t completed, she looks at her like she is a child that has just spoken her first words; with pride, in a way, yet already with an inkling that this might go terribly wrong.

Random notes.

When Claire and Boyd first realize that Victor is the prime suspect for what has happened to Sierra, they have this subtle little bond over the fact that both know about Victor’s feelings, and are touched by their sincerity.

Rebecca Mynor, pointing at the rose-petal-covered bed: PORN! Still a favourite.

Ballard: “Tell me about the Dollhouse.”
Joel: “Erm. It’s pink and it opens up and there’s teeny furniture and you put the boy doll on top of the girl doll and we learn about urges.”

“I was the guy with the almost great idea– Floogle and Blahoo! And Facebooger. I was, I was just always one step behind, and she was cool with it.”

The music playing after Mellie is activated is the Concerto For Oboe & Orchestra No. 11 in B-Flat Major, Op. 9: Adagio by Tomaso Albinoni.

Adelle, after Topher removed the experience from Sierra’s head, says “Ignorance in this case truly is bliss”. Once again, a broken promise, as we later find out.

I hear ghosts.

I am not particularly fond of M.I.A.'s /\/\ /\ Y /\ apart from Born Free, but every time Meds and Feds comes on, I wonder who that voice at the beginning of the song is because it reminds me of Kathryn Prescott. Does anybody happen to know if that's a sample from a British movie or something? I can barely make out what she is saying. The song samples Sleigh Bell's Treats.

In other Skins-related (or rather, withdrawal-related) news, afterellen has an interview with Sofia Black D'Elia, who is going to play Tea in the American version that starts next January. That will be a fun two months, covering two separate seasons of Skins at once. I can only apologize in advance.

Keeping track...

Flood in Pakistan, affecting approximately 13.8 million people and spreading rapidly to India.
Massive forest fires in Russia due to a heatwave that might threaten nuclear facilities.
Meanwhile, the water in German Land Saxony in is retreating.

Rewatching the first and the second season of Mad Men,

realizing that my dislike of Betty Draper started in season three, and that I actually find her interesting and complex in the first two seasons. It also makes me appreciate January Jones as an actress.

"Weirdly enough, both Matthew Weiner and January Jones, the actress who plays Betty Draper, mentioned Plath as an inspiration for her character’s arc in Season 2. Apparently right before a scene in which Betty confronts Don about his philandering, Weiner asked Jones to read Sylvia Plath’s poem “Ariel” to get into character. “It confused me and freaked me out,” Jones told writer Bruce Handy, who writes: “Not knowing the coming plot lines (Weiner may not have either, at that point), she assumed this was his way of telling her Betty would be sticking her head in the oven for the season finale."

Slate: What's in store for the women of "Mad Men"?, August 17, 2009

Columnize Your Randomness, Kurzfassung

Feuerlöscher vs. Flammenwerfer, Dancing Pigeons - Ritalin

Dancing Pigeons - Ritalin from Blink on Vimeo.

a reason why I might end up liking the first season of Skins USA more than the fifth season of Skins UK apart from Bryan Elsley / syfy may have been "inspired" by Amber Benson's and Adam Busch's Drones for a new comedy show / Wyclef Jean wants to become President of Haiti / I remember a time when floods weren't a monthly issue.

Stephen King - It (2010)

Missglückte Zweitversuche, file under "besser wirds nicht". 

Stephen King - It (2006)

Ich lese dieses Buch alle vier Jahre. Das erste Mal war in einem besonders heißen Sommer 1998, als ich elf Jahre alt und meine Familie gerade von einer Wohnung in ein Reihenhaus am Stadtrand umgezogen war. Obwohl der Eingangsparagraph des Reviews vor vier Jahren enthusiastisch war ("It" enhält das ganze Leben, etc.), ist der wahre Grund, warum ich dieses Buch ritualartig immer wieder in die Hand nehme (und mir selbst nicht erlaube, es in den Jahren dazwischen auch nur anzusehen), eine Ansammlung unheimlicher Zufälle, die es begleiten. 11 Jahre entspricht dem Alter der Protagonisten am Beginn des Romans. Ich habe bei jeder Rückkehr zu "It" in einem anderen Raum / einer neuen Wohnung gelebt. Vielleicht liegt es an der Jahreszeit, aber bis jetzt sind noch jedes Mal um mich herum plötzlich Spinnen aufgetaucht (auch wenn sie dieses Mal zum Glück nicht über den roten Einband gekrochen sind, was auch schon einmal passiert ist).

„It“ eignet sich auch besonders gut, um Veränderungen in meinem Leben nachzuvollziehen. Meine Referenzen ändern sich. Ich lese Bücher, sehe Filme und Serien, die sich an ähnlichen Themen abarbeiten. Im Kern geht es um „It“ darum, nach einer bestimmten verstrichenen Zeit an den Ort der Kindheit zurückzukehren, und durch diese Bewegung durch die Zeit und den Raum treffen sich Vergangenheit und Gegenwart – das Ritual, mit dem die fünf Verbliebenen 27 Jahre später abermals gegen das Böse antreten, ist nicht das einzige, welches das Buch beschreibt. Es geht auch darum, die Orte der Kindheit wiederum aufzusuchen, was in „It“ essentiell dafür ist, die verlorenen Erinnerungen wiederzufinden, wo sie gebraucht werden. Dabei vermittelt King dieses intensive Gefühl, das man hat, wenn man einen Ort zurückgelassen glaubt, aber sich weiterhin an seinen Spuren abarbeiten muss, als ob einen die Geister weiterhin heimsuchen würden (siehe auch „Ghost World“, die brilliante Adaption von Dan Clowes graphic novel). Bei den Protagonisten, abgesehen vom „Wachenden“, der Derry niemals verlassen hat, erfolgt dieser Prozess plötzlich, wie ein Schock, da sie nach dem Verlassen der Stadt all ihre Erinnerungen verloren hatten. Die subtilen Veränderungen, welche die Stadt in den vergagenen Jahren durchgemacht haben, werden präzise beschrieben, ebenso wie der Umstand, dass sie sich im Kern überhaupt nicht verändert hat: die Menschen stehen den offensichtlich außergewöhnlich brutalen Ereignissen immer noch mit Ignoranz gegenüber, als ob die hohen Vermisstenquoten und vielen Morde nichts außergewöhnliches wären. Es hat mich beim Lesen der Kritik von vor vier Jahren überrascht, dass ich die offensichtliche Referenz nicht weiter ausgearbeitet habe: in „Buffy“ geht es ebenso um die Idee, eine bestimmte Verantwortung auf sich zu nehmen, an einem Ort, der so offensichtlich heimgesucht wird, auch wenn dies alle Autoritätspersonen nicht zur Kenntnis nehmen (einer der stärksten Momente in „Buffy“ ist immer noch die Szene am Ende der dritten Staffel, in der Jonathan Buffy den „Class Protector Award“ dafür verleiht, dass ihr Jahrgang jener mit der geringsten Todesrate war). Auch wenn Buffy als „Heldin“ dazu auserwählt ist, das Böse zu bekämpfen, ist es doch immer wieder eine Entscheidung, sich zu stellen, und ihre Kraft schöpft sie aus der Unterstützung ihrer Freunde (die zumindest am Beginn der Serie mit keinerlei Superkräften ausgestattet sind). Das Element der Freiwilligkeit, der Entscheidung, die einem Pflichtgefühl, einer Verantwortung entspringt, die den sonst üblichen Autoritätspersonen abhanden gekommen ist, bildet die zentrale Idee von „Es“. Umso konsequenter, als einer der sieben ursprünglichen Helden diese Verantwortung ablehnt (Stanley begeht nach Mikes Anruf Selbstmord) und nicht alle den erneuten Gang in den Abgrund überleben. Ohne diese Fallhöhe wäre doch alles irrelevant, was passiert – wenn alle Charaktere in Sicherheit sind, hat ihr Handeln keinerlei Bedeutung, hat ihr Mut keinen Wert. Deswegen muss Wash am Ende von „Serenity“ sterben, deswegen überleben manche geliebte Charaktere das Finale von „Harry Potter“ nicht.


Ein entscheidender Unterschied zwischen „Buffy“ und „It“: während die Scoobies im Laufe der Serie von Jugendlichen zu Anfangzwanzigern werden, sind die Helden der ersten Zeitebene des Romans gerade erst dabei, von Kindern zu Jugendlichen zu werden. Das ist notwendig, weil es um die konkreten Ängste von Kindern (Werwölfe, Mumien, Clowns) im Vergleich zu den weniger greifbaren der Erwachsenen geht, erschwert für mich aber immer wieder die zentrale Szene in den Abwasserkanälen, in denen Beverly als einziges Mädchen in der Gruppe mit ihren sechs besten Freunden Sex hat, um einen sicheren Heimweg zu gewährleisten (die Szene ist wahrscheinlich einer der Gründe, warum die zweiteilige Fernsehverfilmung von vor 20 Jahren bis jetzt nicht wieder aufgegriffen wurde – das Finale des Romans ist fast unmöglich zu verfilmen – TV Tropes nennt es „Deus Sex Machina“). Dabei ist die Beschreibung der kleinen Veränderungen, die den Übergang von Kindheit zu Teenager ausmachen, eines der gelungensten Elemente des Romans (vor allem Ben Hanscoms Sehnsucht nach Beverly Marsh). Ähnlich unglücklich ist die Entscheidung, Patrick Hockstetter (ein Jugendlicher, der selbst die brutale Gruppe um Henry Powers an Perversität und Gewalttätigkeit überbietet – ein Psychopath) dadurch als „pervers“ zu charakterisieren, dass Beverly ihn und Henry bei der gegenseitigen Masturbation beobachtet, begleitet mit dem Kommentar, dass sie nicht weiß, warum, aber sicher ist, etwas „Böses“ zu beobachten.

Das wahre Grauen lauert in „It“ nicht unbedingt in dem greifbaren Bösen, welches immer jene Form wählt, die das Opfer (immer Kinder) am meisten fürchtet, sondern in der alltäglichen Gewalt der Bewohner, in den apathischen oder grausamen Eltern, in den überforderten oder desiniteressierten und passiven Beobachtern, die sich dazu entscheiden, nicht einzugreifen, auch wenn sie es könnten. Die Zerstörung von „Es“ und seiner Brut ist nur ein Teil des Abschlusses; ebenso wichtig ist der endgültige Untergang von Derry, der wortwörtliche Einbruch Derrys in die Kanalisation, durch die sich das Böse überallhin ausbreiten konnte. Es sind diese Motive, die King immer wieder benutzt, die aber trotzdem nichts an Schrecken eingebußt haben: Die Tunnel, welche Menschen graben, die vielleicht ein bisschen zu tief in das Innere eindringen und ungewünschtes aufwühlen. Der Gedanke, dass die Monster unter dem Bett nicht nur der eigenen Vorstellungskraft entspringen.

One day in my hometown of Bangor, I was walking up the street and observed a dirty-faced boy of about 3 with scabbed knees and a look of extreme concentration on his face. He was sitting on the dirt strip between the sidewalk and the asphalt. He had a stick in his hand and kept jabbing it into the dirt. ''Get down there!'' he cried. ''Get down there, dammit! You can't come out until I say the Special Word! You can't come out until I say so!''
Several people passed by the kid without paying much attention (if any). I slowed, however, and watched as long as I could — probably because I have spent so much time telling the things inhabiting my own imagination to get back down and not come out until I say so. I was charmed by the kid's effortless make-believe (always assuming it was make-believe, heh-heh-heh). And a couple of things occurred to me. One was that if he had been an adult, the cops would have taken him away either to the drunk tank or to our local Dreamboat Manor for a psychiatric exam. Another was that kids exhibiting paranoid-schizophrenic tendencies are simply accepted in most societies. We all understand that kids are crazy until they hit 8 or so, and we cut their groovy, anything-goes minds some slack.
This happened around 1982, while I was getting ready to write a long story about children and monsters (It), and it influenced my thinking on that novel a great deal.

Stephen King: J.K. Rowling's Ministry of Magic

I love the wording of that decision

“Proposition 8 cannot withstand any level of scrutiny under the Equal Protection Clause,” wrote Judge Walker. “Excluding same-sex couples from marriage is simply not rationally related to a legitimate state interest.”

NY Times: Court Rejects Same-Sex Marriage Ban in California, August 4, 2010

"'[M]oral disapproval, without any other asserted state interest,' has never been a rational basis for legislation," cites Walker. "Animus towards gays and lesbians or simply a belief that a relationship between a man and a woman is inherently better than a relationship between two men or two women, this belief is not a proper basis on which to legislate," Walker notes, with a jerk of the thumb at Kennedy."

Slate: A Brilliant Ruling, August 4, 2010

Third gen of Skins revealed...

 [link]

I WAS HOPING FOR A TRAILER OR SOMETHING; WELL WHATEVER. These kids are just basically going to have a really hard time until the new season airs.

Also: I felt like screaming at everybody who went all "they all look so boring, they will never live up to bla and bla", and I already have favourites (all the way to the left and all the way to the right) which is really shallow since we know nothing about the storylines yet - and still, I absolutely second this sentiment. The one exception being, possibly, Amy Pond.

random mixtape - i’m living in an age that calls darkness light

arcade fire. MY BODY IS A CAGE. the black keys. TEN CENT PISTOL. amanda palmer. IDIOTEQUE. radiohead. HOUSE OF CARDS. dinosaur jr. YOUR WEATHER. sonic youth. TABLA IN SUBURBIA. blumfeld. SUPERSTARFIGHTER. tocotronic. STÜRMT DAS SCHLOSS. clinic. THE EQUALIZER.

Skins - That’s an awfully long sentence Tony.

Skins: 1x07 Michelle.

Love, on “Skins”, tends to make characters single-minded. The prime example for this is of course Freddie, whose “I met a girl I liked today” defined him for the rest of generation two. Michelle starts out like this too. In “Jal”, she told her friend that she is mostly good at looking shaggable, and she is defining herself over being with Tony, although she knows fully well that it’s not good for her. Her explanation to Jal why she’s with him last episode sounded hollow: she assumed that she must be something special, as Tony could be with anyone and chooses to be with her. Love and low self-esteem are a terrible combination. In the beginning of “Michelle”, there’s the fall-out of the last episode. Michelle waited for Tony to confess, but he didn’t even realize that Michelle knows what happened between him and Maxxie, he’s so sure of himself (sure enough to not expect being kicked in the balls, sure enough to add that subtle bit of uncertainty to “She’ll come back”.

Jal: “Did he screw someone again?”
Michelle: “Again?”
Jal: “I tried to tell you Chell.”
Michelle: “About who?”
But you never want to hear it.
[…]
Michelle: “Abigail. Abigail Stock. Why didn’t you tell me, you were supposed to be my friend?”
Jal: “I tried. It’s just Tony, right?”
Michelle: “Did you do him?”
Jal: “What? Don’t be stupid Michelle.”
Michelle: “I bet you wanted to fuck him. Cheers Jal. That’s what friends are for.”

This conversation is essential for the rest of the episode because it establishes that Michelle doesn’t just feel alienated from her boyfriend; he “cheated” on her with one of her friends, and her best friend knew about it, which means that she perceives herself to be completely alone. Naturally, she tries to connect to someone who is outside of her tightly knit circle of friends, and that just happens to be Abigail’s brother, Josh.

Sid and Tony.
In a way, Sid’s revelation about Tony parallels Michelle’s. This is probably why they fit together for a short period of time, right after realizing who Tony is and, at the same time, dealing with the fact that he got hit by a bus and won’t ever be the same again. In this episode, Tony still hasn’t a clue about how actions have consequences and can sometimes lead to things he doesn’t expect or control. He is still performing his little piece, throwing stones at Michelle’s window, reciting Shakespeare, making the lines sound like a hollow gesture.

Sid: “Why don’t you just leave her alone for a bit?”
Tony: “Sidney?”
Sid: “She thinks you're a tit.”
Tony: “She doesn't think I'm a tit.”
Sid: “Why do you pull all this shit, Tony?”
Tony: “Look around Sidney. Fuck all ever happens in this shitty little town. You've gotta improvise.”
Sid: “No matter who you hurt?”
Tony: “So I messed around with Maxxie a bit. SO what? He was bored, I was bored, Michelle was bored, and now we’re not. And she’s gonna feel so good when she gets me back.”

“Fuck all ever happens in this shitty little town” sounds like a quote, like a sentiment Tony picked up from a novel or a film more than something he really feels. So much about him is this carefully constructed and maintained façade – he is the guy who reads Camus and has movie posters of “Blow Up” on his walls, yet is stuck in Bristol with people he considers less intelligent than himself (with the one obvious exception). This entire scene is so reminiscent of Cook, being questioned by JJ why he can’t ever stop what he’s doing (“what happens if you stop?”). There is a lot of Chris in Cook as well, his unrelenting physicality, his joy at simple things, but in his basic frame of mind, he shares much more with Effy’s brother. They come from a completely different place: Cook with no real prospect of a bright future (although we see later that his mother is a rich artist, but he is still the opposite of privileged), while Tony probably already knows that he will eventually go to a prestigious university and will have all the opportunities he wants. I think the bit we get later, when he is giving his psychology presentation on “the role of sex in power relationships” says more about him than his speech to Sid does: “Money and looks mean nothing except for the power they give us.”

Cook: “Cause it’s life, J. You gotta get in there and never fucking stop. Shit is waiting to be done and if you’re not going to do it you’re a pathetic little pussy fart.”
JJ: “What’s so pathetic about stopping. What about other people, Cook?”
Cook: “Fuck other people.”
JJ: “Thing is, Cook, you didn’t answer my question. What would happen if you stopped?”
Cook: “Look at me, J. What else have I got?”

I think when Sid punches Tony instead of answering because really, what could he possibly say to this, and when Michelle really doesn’t answer, a bit of this incredibly self-security drops. It’s subtle

Michelle – Tony – Sid

Tony: “How long are you gonna keep this up for?”
Michelle: “You know what. I never realized how fucking knackering it is to know you Tone.”
Tony: “It’s fun though.”
Michelle: “You think?”
[…]
Michelle: “You know what? Tell me you love me.”
Tony: “You know I love you Nips.”
Michelle: “No. Tell me like you’d die for me, like nothing else matters, like your world’s stops turning because of me, like you mean it, you little shit. Go on.”
Tony: “What?”
Michelle: “Wrong answer, Tony. Fuck off, I’m busy.”

Now that we have an example in “Skins” for a speech that involves someone saying they’d die for their loved one, the contrast to Michelle and Tony is pretty clear. At least he doesn’t bother to lie to her because the truth is that he probably wouldn’t, and I never saw them as the kind of couple that would survive graduation. It’s also interesting that Cassie will eventually come to the same conclusion about Sid – that she will always love him, but he probably doesn’t feel the same about her – and that this asymmetry is one of the most awful things that can happen to a person.
Michelle’s reaction to this is telling about her character too. She can’t handle rejection at all, so she goes to Sid to ask of him what Tony can’t provide: not because she reciprocates his feelings, but because she needs someone to feel the same way about her that she feels about Tony.

Michelle: “You love me, you really love me.”
Sid: “Yeah.”
Michelle: “How much?”
Sid: “A lot.”
Michelle: “That will do.”

Of course, things have happened since the first episode, when Sid was still unquestioning and head-over-heels in love with Michelle. He realized that Cassie was beautiful in the last episode, and just before Michelle comes around to his house, he’s looked at pictures of both of them on his computer (“You know there’s other girls, Sid?”). This is, literally, all he dreamed of for the past years of his life, and still, he doesn’t enjoy it at all when an opportunity presents itself.

Michelle: “Do you fancy someone else?”
Sid: “I think I do. But we’re okay, yeah, because this isn’t right when you’re missing someone too.”

Cassie
Cassie is already a character that is hard to pin down, to grasp. After her own episode, she became a distant entity in everybody else’s, especially in “Sid”. I’m not really sure if she ever becomes less elusive in the second season, because she is a presence outside the main group for a great part of that as well. Of course, this aloofness is exactly what makes her character interesting – because in a way, she is the most perceptive of all of them, yet remains strangely unperceivable to everybody else. In a way, Michelle and Sid enter Cassie’s frame of mind when the come into this weird, Alice in Wonderland like garden of the clinic, and this works so well because Michelle’s perspective in this episode is so bound to other characters. Michelle is the exact opposite of Cassie: She really doesn’t live in her own world, she lives in everybody else’s, and while Cassie struggles to match her own with the outside, Michelle struggles to create a space for herself in which she can be who she is instead of always fulfilling everybody else’s expectations.

Sid: “Erm, cass, I’m sorry you tried to kill myself over me.”
Cassie: “Oh, that’s okay Sid.”
Sid: “I realized something, I’ve been an idiot.”
Cassie: “Yes.”
Sid: “And I was hoping, maybe you would give me another chance?”
Cassie: “Oh wow. Sid. Cool, you’re so lovely. Wow. Great. And if I wasn’t going out with Simon, that that would be amazing.”
[…]
Cassie: “See it’s all so exciting. He wants me…”
Simon: “I do!”
Cassie: “And he can never have me.”
Simon: “I’m hopeful.”
Cassie: “It’s just perfect, isn’t it.”

Which is, of course, pretty much exactly a description of the relationship Cassie had with Sid.

Josh

Josh (Ben Lloyd-Hughes)  is built up to be the exact opposite of Tony. He is nice. He is helpful, and complementing Michelle, and he talks to her. He stands out among the male characters of the show we’ve met so far because he seems like an adult, like someone who has already pretty much figured out who he wants to be, and succeeded, despite his wacky family and his “neurotic tendencies” (“you wouldn’t like me so much”, he says when Michelle asks him why he doesn’t stop taking the pills). Then Tony, jealous of all things, an emotion that must come as a surprise even to him, creates the best villain “Skins” has ever had. He pays someone to steal Josh’s phone, uploads pictures he’s taken of Abigail, his sister (“Yes. Yes Abigail, you are brainy.”), and sends it to everybody in his directory, including Michelle. The scene where she meets up with Jal is probably my favourite in this episode because this is still “Skins”, doing friendships brilliantly (even though Michelle was so rude to her earlier, at the end of the day, they are still there for each other).
Sometimes, the relationships the parents on “Skins” have parallel that of their children. Malcolm, the useless third step dad, is the guy Michelle’s mum can’t get over, even though he is useless. Michelle, when she talks to him and tells him to either “stay here or get his coat”, realizes that she won’t get over Tony, no matter how much he fucks up – and then she doesn’t take him back, even though she realizes that (Bryan Elsley wrote for all the female characters this season, and the endings of his episodes are always so beautifully done).

Tony: “Can we stop this now?”
Michelle: “And?”
Tony: “Get back to normal.”
Michelle: “Stuff happens. You get over it.”
Tony: “Yeah, but…”
Michelle: “Yeah but. Yeah but.”
Tony: “Whoah, Chell, got nasty.”
Michelle: “Yeah. What are you doing here?”
Tony: “I came because it turns out as it goes I think I might love you.”
Michelle: “That’s an awfully long sentence Tony.”
Tony: “Well yeah but, yeah.. Chell. I said it, okay. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
Michelle: “Beg.”
Tony: “Sorry?”
Michelle: “You heard me Tone.”
Tony: “Okay. Look. Please, can we get back. I won’t do any of it again, the cheating, lying…”
Michelle: “Undermining, sneering, taunting, manipulating.”
Tony: “Okay. Yeah. All of those things. I promise, so?”

And then she takes a step toward him, and as he thinks that he won, that his plan worked, she says “so see you”, and walks away.

Random thoughts:

The fall-out between Angie and Chris is just on the periphery of the episode but it’s so well-done. Angie wants Chris to go away, but he’s so persistent and irresistible. Also: HOCKEY UNIFORMS.

I’m really just giving Tony such a hard time for reading these novels because it’s exactly what I did when I was seventeen. I might have even said “you wouldn’t understand this” at some point.

Michelle’s mum reaction to her explaining what Tony did (“Well, you know say you’re sorry or something, I don’t know” is priceless. Oh, dysfunctional, disinterested parents of “Skins”. It also plays nicely into the “nobody sees Tony for who he really is” theme.

Maxxie: “This is all my fault. I got off with Tony on the Russia trip. I only did it because I fell out with Anwar because he said he hated gays so I got upset and then Tony said he’d give me head to cheer me up, you know, and it didn’t mean anything but I lost my head and then he gave me head and then we got deported from Russia. And I’m really really sorry for being a slut, okay?”
Oh Maxxie. There is a little Panda in all of us.

Once again, Sid’s dad’s timing is marvellous. He finds Michelle in Sid’s room, and immediately goes out to call his presumably estranged wife: “Listen. Yeah. It’s conclusive. He’s not gay.” Funniest moment of the episode. Also, who would ever think that Sid might be gay?

“I’m sorry. I never should have said you have a big cock. I now realize I was mistaken.” / “fuck you” / “Fuck you right back”. So there is a little bit of Michelle in Naomi then (she also later says “well that was careless” to Malcolm). When I saw the first generation the first time around, I didn’t really appreciate Michelle, but April Pearson gives such a pitch-perfect performance. The actresses just had a bit less to work with than the guys the first time around (I feel it’s the opposite for the second gen with the exception of Cook, but maybe I’m mistaken).

Speak

I don't know anything about the background of this movie, and went into it without any knowledge of what it would be about. Usually, I don't do this. Sometimes I follow the filmography of an actor, a director, or work through a list of movies dealing with similar issues. It’s hard to find a companion piece for “Speak” though, that would make discussing it easier. For once, it certainly is the kind of movie you shouldn’t know too much about before watching it.
At the end of “Mysterious Skin”, when Neal finally tells Brian what happened in their childhood, the story itself does not promise redemption. They are damaged characters, one from knowing, the other from having forgotten, and the story itself isn’t going to heal them. “Speak” is about the period “Mysterious Skin” leaves out, right after the traumatic event happened. We only get a glimpse of Kristen Stewart’s character before the rape, from her own disjointed memories, but it’s enough to clearly show how much she has changed over a short period of time.
The psychological effect is that everything Melinda used to take for granted before now becomes impossible. Her perspective of her surroundings shifts; her view on her former friends who have now deserted her because she called the police at the party (but was unable to communicate what happened), the impossible dynamics in her school, especially the bullies and the teachers who fail at their profession miserably, the shallowness of a new-found friend who is new at the school and knows nothing about her past as a popular girl. While her sensitivity to ignorance, brutality and superficiality increases, she also notices what she might not, before: a boy in school (Michael Angarano) who is politically active and challenges a racist teacher; an art teacher (Steve Zahn) who inspires her to paint a tree and provides a language for what she is going through.
The idea of “expression” and “communication” is the core of the movie. Apart from the damaging effect being raped itself has, the rapist also took away Melinda’s language to express herself and to fight back. Nobody in her vicinity recognizes what she is going through (the symptoms match what most teenage girls go through), and she can’t talk about it, but at the same time, her memories of the event return to her in flashes and the rapist is one of the students in her school who is now dating her former best friend – and she starts to worry that he might do what he did to her to someone she cares about, because she can’t bring herself to talk about it.
The moment when she finally does fight back and win, overcoming the man who raped her on her own, gives her the courage to finally talk about what happened.

2004, directed by Jessica Sharzer, featuring Kristen Stewart, Michael Angarano, Robert John Burke, Hallee Hirsh, Eric Lively, Elizabeth Perkins, Allison Siko, Steve Zahn, D.B. Sweeney.

...

I just realized that I accidentally ordered the French version of Scott Heim's Mysterious Skin off Amazon which could be one of those pretty arguments for buying books at your local store (not that I could buy that book off any local store, but still, the idea is what matters - read the blurb, not the product description or something). Well, I wanted to work on my French anyways, and at least it's not Italian. Also in the shiny package: Lowboy by John Wray and Daughter of Hounds by Caitlín R. Kiernan (I figured that I could just buy it, after getting it more than twice from the library).

Also: Arcade Fire just released a concept album about suburbs, the place that will forever haunt me and my writing. "Ich will da nicht leben wo es niemals Leben gab" indeed.

Dollhouse – True happiness requires some measure of self-awareness.

Dollhouse: 1x05 True Believer.

note: apparently I just really don't have a lot to say about this episode. I don't even know why exactly, but well, "Man on the Street" is going to make up for that. 

Senator: “We’re talking about people here who have their very wills taken away.”
Adelle: “Imagine such a thing.”
Senator: “The irony of bringing this to you, Adelle, is not lost on me. I promise you.”

In “True Believer”, Echo is sent into a sectarian community to collect evidence. Topher does something to her head that involves turning her eyes into cameras and her blind, although we are meant to never question the funky science. The episode succeeds in indicating a divide within the Dollhouse: Adelle considers Echo’s adaptability an asset because she is able to improvise whenever a mission goes wrong. Dominic, on the other hand, thinks that they should be predictable, because if they aren’t, Alpha ensues.
The episode draws parallels between the sect and the dollhouse, which is the ultimate sect, in a way, a place where the re-programming to control and manipulate is perfected. On her way there, as Esther Carpenter, she tells Boyd that she wants to become “a new person, more than anything” – once again, that empty promise of leaving your past behind, the promise of the clean slate that can never be fulfilled.
Of course, the Echo we know reappears under the surface of Esther Carpenter once she is required: Jonah Sparrow, the leader of the sect, hits her, which returns her sight, and immediately, she starts to rescue people. If the compound is like a negative of the Dollhouse, Echo demonstrates what she will eventually try inside as well: lead the victims back into the light, back into freedom. “True Believer” doesn’t work very well as an isolated episode, but it is a necessary and important companion piece to “Needs” later in the season, post-“Man on the Street”. It also establishes how far Dominic is willing to go to preserve the status quo: he attempts to kill Echo, hitting her over the head as the compound burns down (of course Boyd comes in to rescue her).

Random notes:

In the subplot this episode, Topher realizes that Victor has a “man-reaction” when he showers with Sierra, which leads to hours of shower-tapes. I wish we’d seen more of Topher and Claire in season two because they were already awesome together BEFORE parts of their history were revealed.

Once again, Mellie redefines “leftovers” by bringing an entire pie to Paul at the police station. She also brings an envelope containing the video we saw Alpha watching in the first episode.

Echo: “The blind girl is looking you in the eye. Do you know what that means? It means God brought me here. He has a message for you. And that message… is “MOVE YOUR ASS!” Go! Come on!”

This was out-of-character for both Echo AND Esther Carpenter. Of course, it was a nice nod to everybody who’d be content with Eliza Dushku being Faith for the rest of her life, but… it doesn’t really help these initial episodes of “Dollhouse” at all.

Topher and Claire, after their nerve-wrecking task, totally ship Victor and Sierra, and aren’t exactly happy when Adelle tells them to “scrub” Victor.

Reading List: Juli

I'm embarrassed because it's summer and the list of books is short and the list of films is terribly, terribly long. I re-read King's "It" every four years and that usually means that I don't read anything else. It's a ritual. 

Fiction: 

Stephen King: It.
Juli Zeh: Schilf.
Pretty Little Liars.


Films: 

Persepolis (2005, Vincent Paroonaud, Marjane Satrapi) ****.
Mysterious Skin (2004, Gregg Araki) *****.
Dear Zachary: A Letter to a Son about his Father  (2008, Kurt Kuenne) ****.
The Runaways (2010, Floria Sigismondi) ***.
Laurel Canyon (2002, Lisa Cholodenko) **.
Foxes (1980, Adrian Lyne) ***.
The Doom Generation (1995, Gregg Araki) **.
New Rose Hotel (1998, Abel Ferrara) **.
It (1990, Tommy Lee Wallace) ***.
Hellraiser III - Hell on Earth (1992, Anthony Hickox) ***.
Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone (2001, Chris Columbus) ***.
Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (2002, Chris Columbus) ***.
Monsters, Inc. (2001, Pete Docter, David Silverman) ****.
Charlie Wilson's War (2007, Mike Nichols) ***.
Thirteen (2003, Catherine Hardwicke) **.
Puccini for Beginners (2006, Maria Maggenti) **.
Shank (2010, Mo Ali) ****/*. 
The Girl Next Door (2007, Gregory Wilson) *.
An American Crime (2007, Tommy O'Haver) *****.
Broken (2006, Simon Boyes/Adam Mason) ****. 

Series: 

Dive.
Merlin: Season 2.

Music: 

New Model Army: Vengeance.
New Model Army: No Rest for the Wicked.
Blumfeld: L'Etat et Moi
M.I.A.: /\/\ /\ Y /\
Blakroc: Blakroc.
Tocotronic: Kapitulation.
Tocotronic: Schall und Wahn.
Sufjan Stevens: Come On Feel the Illinoise.
Le Loup: The Throne Of The Third Heaven Of The Nations' Millennium General Assembly.