I read Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind, but it took me a while. When it’s good, it’s great. When it’s not, it’s a wispy, ambiguous snoozer. Seems like a book you really have to just vacuum up in one fell swoop… or save it and nibble every now and then. I took the slow route.
I re-read Crucial Conversations, a book I’d read for a previous job years and years ago. It’s proven its worth many times over. It’s all about creating safety when you need to hold people accountable, or have other awkward conversations where your counterpart’s defenses (and your own!) are going to be on high alert.
An interesting take I haven’t seen elsewhere. Plenty of stuff I’d never thought about before, like:
One way Uber has fewer costs than the taxi companies is that its drivers use their personal insurance policies as their primary coverage.
The companion piece has some interesting tips and tricks. Gotta know where the free parking and bathrooms are.
Predestination. The brisk opening especially felt a little 1990s-ish, in a good way. I wish that pace had kept up. Reminded me of Dark City a bit. Love the costume and set details that keep you oriented. As with many labyrinthine movies, I’m curious about what the experience would be like if they told it straight, in one chronology. There’s so much story in this story that it sort of spoils itself, but… I liked it. How wrong can you go with time travel?
The Insider. It’s awesome, like all the rest of Michael Mann’s stuff. He’s got such a great handle on momentum within and across scenes. Great cast across the board. Love the mini-breaks just to gaze and reflect and get in their heads a bit. (Filed under: Michael Mann).
Pitch Perfect. A perfectly average and enjoyable modern musical comedy. So much of the humor is non sequitur. Anna Kendrick is a delight, as always. I won’t go out of my way to watch the sequel, though.
Grizzly Man. Second viewing. (The first.) I found myself less sympathetic and more disturbed and saddened the second time around.
A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night. Thrives more on effective mood and style and ambiance than narrative strength. Too cool for its own good, in both sense of the word (for my tastes), but it’s fresh, and I like the genre-blending across western, noir, and horror. Soundtrack.
I also think if you’ve got writer’s block, you don’t have writer’s block. You have reporter’s block. You only are having trouble writing because you don’t actually yet know what you’re trying to say, and that usually means you don’t have enough information. That’s the signal to walk away from the keyboard, think about what it is that you don’t really know yet, and go do that reporting.
And also:
My father was really, really the author of my particular personality. He gave me a million different pieces of advice, but one that comes up all the time is: Anything that can be fixed with money isn’t worth crying over.
The New Yorker’s Susan Orlean on the magic and mystery of writing
I read John Darnielle’s Wolf in White Van, but only 1/3 or so. Onward!
I’ve noticed a few recent movies with electro-ish scores that feature some sort of pulse or buzz or building waves of raw sound. Not especially melodic, just a persistent, engulfing motif that swallows you up.
From *Upstream Color*, one of my favorite soundtrack moments in recent memory, “As If It Would Have A Universal And Memorable Ending”:
From *Gone Girl*, “Consummation”:
And recently in *Ex Machina*, there’s the last minute or so of “Hacking/Cutting”:
The last two especially remind me of the opening few seconds of Yeezus. I’m sure I’m missing some other good examples?
I read Charles Portis’ True Grit and was surprised how it manages to wring so much humor out of a pretty straight-shooting narrator. A quick read.
Ex Machina. One of my favorites of the year so far. Oscar Isaac’s Nathan is awesome, flipping back and forth from intimidating to genial. He’s a brogrammer archetype. Excellent critique here of tech sexism and overreach. His overconfidence makes him too casual, flippant about the ethics. Domhnall Gleeson’s Caleb has his own blinders, about gender in particular. Some of the dialogue was tiresome. I wish they’d felt more courage to just let people talk, and let the audience get lost a bit (if needed) without preface and theory. On the other hand, I was pleasantly surprised how they handled the ending. I’d imagined something more traditional. Loved it. I’ve been listening to the soundtrack for a couple weeks now. Good stuff.
I read John Green’s The Fault in Our Stars, and I was the guy wiping away tears and sniffling in public. Good one for all you softies out there. Recommended.
The word “yes” is an extremely dull way to express the varied sentiments of “yes.”
I re-read Arthur C. Clarke’s 2001: A Space Odyssey and am glad I did. It was cooler than I remembered. Much of it is a bit cold and distant, like the movies, but still has some awestruck moments, and it’s fun to come back to something that I’ve seen four or five times and have such convenient visuals/memories for. If you like the movie, this is a natural complement.
The Town. This movie is so great. (Previously.) Follows that wonderful formula that Heat, uses: criminals + leader + wildcard teammate + romantic complication + the pressure to do just one more job = everything falling apart. Hall and Hamm’s characters seemed stronger on second viewing. Renner’s character? I can’t enough.
Doug MacRay: You can’t be up there killing people.
James Coughlin: Hey, you brought me.
Ida. It’s exceptionally lovely to look at. Black and white brings out the layers and textures and lighting. The boxy aspect ratio makes is a refreshing change too. I’m thinking it’s under-used these days. (Meek’s Cutoff is another recent example that does it well.) Story isn’t as invigorating as the visuals, but it packs a lot in and feels so much bigger than its minutes, in a good way.
I Walk Alone. Spins out of control really nicely! Solid.
I read about half of Andy Weir’s The Martian, and then I bailed. DNF. Definitely enjoyed the thought process and survival engineering. Ultimately, I was hoping for some more narrative progress, more quickly. On to the next.
Mark Larson 