Confessions of a Beirut Game

YTOTW: Polite Suggestion

Bizzo — Thu, 05 Nov 2009 03:04:31 +0000

I, honestly, can't believe this just fucking happened.

And my favorite reviewer, the NY Post's Kyle Smith, gave it a perfect review. 10/10. If you read between the lines.

Kinda makes me feel like ... you know.

Gratis

Bizzo — Sun, 01 Nov 2009 20:53:05 +0000

At some point this became Monster Movie Week. And an unintended event deserves a left-field ending.

I'm glad there are no demons. Driving home from PA, I felt this more strongly than any fear or pop-culture association. It was scary as fuck in the theater, but the thing didn't lose me a minute of sleep. I'm so glad. Life's so good. We're so free.

On my list of books to finally read, The Brothers Karamarzov has cut ahead in line. That's where the phrase comes from; "Without God, everything is permitted." I've been on a ten year trip from Jesus Kid to nerdy Catholic to Agnostic. And for my own life, I'd put it differently.

Without god, anything is permitted.

Read More...

The universe is skull-fuckingly large, and our place in it is laughable. This was even more obvious to people before we carved out a real habitat. When most anything in the woods could kill us, and an infected chicken scratch could take an arm right off. Trying to reason with this world seems like a futile, degrading, scary exercise. But we want to talk to it anyway. 'Cause that's what we do.

But once fear has a face, we have to accord it manners. Social standing. Rules. And to honestly depict the demon, in order to explain it's power over us, we always seem to give it authority. A realm to rule, tribute to expect. Moods and desires which, once we expect them, it seems like our fault we offend. Demonizing takes forces that are impersonal, and, you know, justifies them.

That's a critical transition. It's hard enough to kill a tiger. Imagine your bow-stringing interrupted by thoughts that the tiger or jungle might be sacred. Might deserve to win. Might give your infant smallpox, in revenge. That whether this is true or not is not up to you. That when you take the shot, your aim and skill are literally pointless.

Someone read The Death of Hector on the radio last night, and that was perfect. In a haunted, intrusive world, even a duel between the two strongest men of all time turns into a puppet show. It's poetic, but those poor guys are having their arms jerked around, their strength enhanced or snapped like voodoo dolls. In most of the old epics, the only action that matters is pleasing or tricking or begging the right gods.

Okay, now you're just fucking with me.

We've been pushing back into the forests for a while now, and haven't found satyr, or dragons, or angels. We translated the received words, and recognize the handwriting of scared, clever, imaginative people like ourselves. This work exposes us to the void. It also gives us a harder, quieter, more worthwhile choice than Salvation.

It asks for responsibility.

In a world where we're not groveling toward the window, we can't point at the sky and blame. If we get to roll our eyes at Jeremiads, we have to give up our Davidians. Sanity, logic and respect become crucial to our lives, and they're hard to maintain in the face of those indulgences.

From Ecclesiastes to Voltaire to our staff advisor, this road has been depicted as very hard. And we, as petty and nasty as advertised. The prognosis is most of us will kick the shit out of ourselves, and others. Or if we get anywhere, we'll chase our own bullshit in circles until we arrive, exhausted, at the desire to be honest.

The gun is in your hand ... the gun is in ... my hand.

None of this sounds as fun as animal sacrifice, or as dramatic as a faith healing. And it lacks the crucial satisfaction of putting other people in Hell. In the ghostless world, those fuckers all get away with it. As much as anyone gets away with it.

But in our world, nothing's chasing you.

I mean, forget being forbidden to love unbelievers you love anyway, or commanded to convert others whose permission you need to get the permission you need from God to even live, or being an adolescent and dead sure you're under orders to castrate yourself, and that you need to beg for forgiveness not just for that, but for being too much of a coward to do so. Forget holy wars.

The most insidious thing about gods, is you have to apologize to them for wishing they did not exist. For believing in them completely, and trying to please their whims, and rationally hating every minute of it. Because they can hear you speak and hear you think, and whimpering when they hurt you is a sign you don't love them enough.

In the end, all gods are demons. And for the feeling of power, or certainty, or the great drama they give our lives, they will take those lives as payment.

None of this means monster movies are less awesome. I love the shit. From the worst to the best, horror is pop mythology. It can warn us off sex and stepping under ladders, or go all the way to asking if we really want free will. How we justify our cares in a universe that doesn't. It can make us laugh at our own fantasies, which is always called for. In a world like this.

So I've come out of these hauntings optimistic. That if we can't ride dragons, we can at least do something. Anything that reflects our own knowledge, or desires, or hopes. Anything that matters to us, each other, and a future we can only imagine. If this isn't all a game in service to a demon, then to me, things actually matter.

Or maybe this is the pleasant delusion of someone who was no good at reverence. And when I die, the bastard(s) will get me in the end.

But until then, when the hooves are at my door, I will never apologize for saying what I think.

YTOTW: Five dollars and a camera

Bizzo — Fri, 30 Oct 2009 18:44:04 +0000

The art of cutting movie trailers has advanced over the years. The art of making you piss yourself, barely.

It's notable that while I was watching and thinking about Paranormal Activity, the movie I thought most about was Ghostbusters.

... No it's not. While I eat soup the movie I think about most is Ghostbusters. At any given moment, I'm probably thinking about Ghostbusters.

But the movie I thought about most after that, was The Haunting. Which still holds up today, among films actually trying to scare you.

Silly trailer though.

One

Bizzo — Sat, 24 Oct 2009 08:14:29 +0000

Mommy.

And Two

Bizzo — Sat, 24 Oct 2009 08:13:44 +0000

Zuul, bitch.

In Three Words

Bizzo — Sat, 24 Oct 2009 08:11:34 +0000

Pants, totally filled.

A Review of Paranormal Activity, in Four Words

Bizzo — Sat, 24 Oct 2009 08:09:35 +0000

That was well done.

The Court of Anger

Bizzo — Fri, 23 Oct 2009 01:20:48 +0000

I finally watched Drag Me to Hell. Now that I own it and Changing Lanes, I need a third film for my trilogy: Awesome Movies, Badly Advertised.

Drag Me being an instant classic, and not a boring CG fest or blondesploitation, it got me thinking about the mechanics of revenge.

Revenge is the oldest and best motive for horror. But when is it justified? When, like Frankenstien’s monster, can we admit the Horror has a point?

First, Jason doesn't count. Scream made a name for itself by analyzing the Slasher Laws, which basically amount to pubescent guilt and luck taboos. It's established that Jigsaw and Freddy act as audience inserts, chopping up people we consider to be pricks, or too pretty, or out of line. That’s barely horror. That's gossip with a machete.

Real monster revenge is a big genre. Besides Frankenstein, you have subtle, American gothic horror like The Telltale Heart and The Bones. Sci-Fi classics like “I Have no Mouth…” or “Second Variety” judge our entire species as deserving of revenge. Romero’s zombie movies present social-justice-by-monster.*

Alllll we are saying, is give peace a BRAAAAINS.

But the classic story is about wronging social outcasts, and trying to get away with it, or hiding a murder. Freaks is in the canon of Universal movies, and has midgets and bearded ladies stalking their abusive owners, Predator-style. Jealous corpses will always find ex-friends or spouses. And I love Thinner, where a poor bastard compounds the horror by running over an old gypsy woman and then trying to hide the murder. Which is like sending a formal invitation to Lucifer, return address: your colon. Never kill an old gypsy.

Or steal. Never steal from an old gypsy either.

But … what if you just … inconvenience one? Hold her up in the immigration process? Give her a bad deal on some stereo parts? I’m not sure that deserves the torments of Beelzebub. It’s one thing to assuage our guilt by telling stories where outcasts avenge clear wrongs, but play that out. How would things really go if all scorned housewives, maligned shlubs and Gypsies got to play Judge Dredd with the supernatural?

This is where Drag Me to Hell gets brilliant.

Read More …

There are several big twists and I won’t spoil them, but the premise is simple. The old gypsy is denied an extension on her mortgage loan. The protag is the loan officer, who is caught up in a promotion battle. She is pressured to deny the loan to prove she can be a ruthless VP. So it’s kind of a dick move on her part. Throwing an old lady out of her home, and into a retirement complex or her daughter’s couch.

So the old coot nukes her soul.

Seriously. For this crime, the loan officer is set upon by a Greater Fiend of Darkness, who will first torture and humiliate her in life, then you know … drag her to Hell.

Her battle to shake the demon pulls in family, friends, and several kinds of shaman. There could be ways to appease it, trick it, pass the curse onto others by abusing the terms. The movie is half murderfest and half a comedy of manners. And if this all sounds like porn to a guy who said Magic Needs Rules, then you must have your ears on.

A shakeable curse is one thing, right? The gypsy flat-out says “now you will beg me”, with the “see how it feels” implied. But as the ultimate punishment creeps closer, and the bodies start piling up … the film gets more and more uncomfortable. Where’s the folk justice in killing third parties? Or a curse with loopholes that sends other, guiltless people to Hell? Of eternal torment, for a bureaucratic slight? Have the Roma never heard of “proportionate response”?

5:35-5:50. I need a better edit...

No. They haven’t. Maybe that’s why we abandoned folk justice in the first place. Maybe that’s why the road to modern law was so long and difficult.

Because once you take the gypsy’s gripe out of it, the real threat is this creature of pure rage, that doesn’t care for arguments. Rage like the rage of Achilles, or the ten plagues. Revenge oaths that pull in sons and distant cousins. The rage of one lucky person, who gets to set their own price.

Wait, this reminds me of something.

Why me! I like ... knew a guy who knew a guy!!! AARGH

Drag Me to Hell doesn't compromise on this vision. In the end, two fallible people are trying to solve a modern quarrel, with demons. This results in a movie that questions horror catharsis itself. Sam Raimi is an old player at this game, so I’m sure it’s deliberate.

A Pocahontas rant could break out any time here. Because people are downtrodden, or provincial, or weak, does that make them saints? Isn’t assuming their sainthood as deluded as making them out to be devils? A theme that crawls lazily through revenge horror is that modern “justice” is a joke. That it would be better if clear evil were punished with clear revenge. So these stories give outcasts all the power, and fantasize that unjust lives have given them perfect insight in how to judge. Which is about as stupid as wishing “innocent children” ran the world.

Whee! Do it again!

Shakespeare already tackled this one. By far the best thing I have to say about Drag Me to Hell, is it’s a Monster Merchant of Venice. That after he’s laughed and pissed himself for two hours, the viewer can wind up a little outraged, and a little grateful for slow, limited means of getting your way. For bloody centuries that taught us

Though justice be thy plea, consider this,
That, in the course of justice, none of us
Should see salvation: we do pray for mercy;
And that same prayer doth teach us all to render
The deeds of mercy to each other.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*Which tellingly got more unhinged, more Latino nationalist, and more Jew-baiting as he kept making movies …

YTOTW: Old Ghosts

Bizzo — Thu, 22 Oct 2009 06:33:45 +0000

I have been searching for this title for twelve years. Now a video blogger drops it in my lap.

I always thought it was from the HBO take on Tales From the Crypt, or a knockoff. That second story scared the screaming jeebus out of me. I got into a depressed funk over it. I didn't want to sleep for weeks. Isn't that weird? Stephen King as a retard whose farm gets eaten by plants? Why was that so disturbing.

I think because it's unfair. You know that chisel-jawed scientist from 50's monster flicks? Or Dr. Grant in Jurassic Park? That guy in zombie movies who used to be a cop. Creepshow doesn't have that. It has these bumbling, greedy, ordinary folk. Tortured by forces they can't comprehend. Come to think of it, maybe it's a King staple. That's part of what made The Mist so good.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK ...

It's pathos. Having the Predator fight Arnold is one kind of movie. Sicing him on Of Mice and Men is another. That second movie, while less action-packed, is scarier.

Ho ho ho.

Bizzo's Posting Schedule

Bizzo — Tue, 20 Oct 2009 19:56:58 +0000

I tried really hard to write Bloody Monday last night. But you know what? Fuckall is going on. We aren't even ten games in and the Olympic placements are pure imagination. What would I say this week? "The Islanders suck?" "San Jose looks great in the first month?" That's like writing about how the ice is cold, or that $9 beer is a crime against God's children.

So until the Winter Games / New Years Game / Playoffs, this will happen every other week. Alternating with my REO series on Fridays. Which will happen this week, natch.

YouTube of the Week ... will continue to be.

Also, watch this space for whatever randomness sets me off, on days with no schedule at all.

Yes, I'm talking to ... you ...

Hello?