Polar Express

Back in 2004, I used to write movie reviews for the USM student newspaper, the "Student Printz". Because I occasionally feel lazy, and it seems a shame that all of five people ever read these, I've decided to repost them here, in the original versions that I emailed to my editor, Noel, all those years ago.

Truly, the unappreciated art in the world of filmmaking is the process of adapting a book to make the big screen. Some books are easy: “Lord of the Rings” had an enormous amount of source material, and with each installment running 3 hours plus, they still had to leave some stuff out. Our most recent arrival “The Polar Express” was much more difficult: try expanding a 32 page children’s book into a whole 96 minutes of holiday entertainment. “Polar Express” does an admirable job, but if you don’t have a tinge of the Christmas spirit, you’ll undoubtedly hate it, from the engine to the caboose.
“Polar Express” is all about renewing the holiday spirit in children who can see through the fake beard the department store Santa is sporting. It follows the story of Hero Boy, a young boy who is losing his faith in Old Saint Nick. On Christmas Eve, a train pulls up outside his house offering him a trip to the North Pole to meet the big man and get a taste of the Christmas spirit.
Tom Hanks definitely earns his paycheck in this movie: he not only does the voice of the main character and the conductor, but also Santa Claus, Hero Boy’s father, the Scrooge, and a friendly train Hobo. He and director Robert Zemeckis obviously put the most energy into the movie, and really try to harvest as much Christmas spirit as is humanly possible a week and a half before Thanksgiving. Surprisingly, they manage to generate a pretty entertaining movie, though its obvious that a lot of sequences were included to just make the minimum length.
Zemeckis’ vision in the movie has strangely dark undertones though, almost like there is some sliver of something sinister hiding behind the warm glow of the Christmas. His vision of Santa Clause is vaguely reminiscent of Big Brother, and worst of all, the only music in the North Pole is the same Christmas songs being played over the loudspeakers down at the mall.
Nonetheless, “Polar Express” is a fun film, just dripping with the joys of Christmas spirit.

Happy Holidays everyone!

The Lowest of the Lows

I haven't felt like a really crappy improviser in a long time; which as much as I promote remembering that improv is a journey and you should be thankful for the distance you've already traveled (and blah, blah, blah all the other stuff), is something that in a way, I've missed. Feeling really crappy is something that I and most of my iO classmates used to feel on a regular basis (generally on the order of every other level), and by feeling crappy, I don't just mean the feeling of “oh, man, that could have gone better”. What I mean is the soul crushing feeling of “oh, man. I absolutely destroy every scene I'm in and can't seem to get anything to work right”. You'd go to class just like any other time, but you'd leave feeling really shitty – like you can't believe you ever thought you could do this thing seriously, and that you should just give up. On top of the every-other-class feeling of being really shitty, I'd also feel little lows here and there. You'd have an O.K. class, but someone else would just rock it, and you'd feel like crap by comparison (thanks, other guy). The tradition of having these dramatic highs and lows is probably the second most practiced of all the unwritten improv traditions in Chicago, just behind the who's-going-to-get-on-a-Harold-team-who-won't-and-who-might game.

So what is my problem? Well, I was at an audition the other week (not auditioning – just observing) when I realized that I have been plateauing for a very long time. Plateaus are natural parts of any learning process: spots where we're just honing one or two techniques before we make the next breakthrough (most of which are probably the cause of the class blues; you're in a plateau, your classmate is in a climb), but I have been languishing for a long time. (Part of the problem is I'm worried my improv knowledge has become more academic than practical.) Basically, it boils down to me having been in this group that was holding auditions for a year and change, and I don't feel like I have moved ahead at all in that group. (That I was sent to this group for the express purpose of getting better doesn't help much.) I usually don't feel like crap after practices or shows for that group, though, so it's not the class blues. In fact, it's quite the opposite, I really enjoy the director and my fellow team mates, I feel like we have a great time, but I don't feel like I'm learning anything.

Class way back when had the (now what I see is) benefit of sometimes making you feel like you suck. Sure, you'd walk to the bar with your class and/or team mates for lunch and a beer and howl misery into the top of your pint glass, but at least you knew where you were. And there were those classes and levels where you would honestly go: 'do I want to spend another three hundred bucks and eight Saturdays feeling like crap?', but there were also those levels and classes, where you had the bug, big time. You were charged, and maybe it's just the manic depressive in me, but the highs and the lows left you at least feeling like your progress had some dynamism. The highs warranted more work and attention to keep you pointed in the right direction, and to encourage you to keep at that high, and the lows said “hey, don't do that, and work harder”.

So there I am, watching auditions, watching a lot of very talented people really putting it out there to try and make the team, and I can't help but think - “why am I still here?”. Or rather, being thankful that for the first time in a year, I feel a sharp, distinct low, one that screams out to me that improv personified thinks “You suck” (of course, it's improv personified, so he's only doing it to be supportive) to which I reply “Yes, and...” (obviously). Now that I'm in this low, there's nowhere to go but up.