Making a Case for Gangster Squad

I'd hoped for more from Gangster Squad, and I bumped it from my birthday plans after seeing what a hard time the critics were giving it.  Even so, after readjusting my expectations and saving 25% on my ticket by seeing it during the daytime, I'm left a little aggravated that the pros piled on with the negative reviews (at one point, the films trajectory was more in line for a mid-50's, nearly "fresh" rating on Rotten Tomatoes) and likely discourages (on some level) the creation of more genre-pieces like this from unlikely sources.

The cons as a whole simply didn't add up to the sum of their parts, though.  Despite finding a lot to pick at in Gangster Squad - none of the weaknesses make it a bad movie, even when considered altogether.

Emma Stone played a fresh tomato to Ryan Gosling's... his... uh... moldy... cheese...?

The Most Annoying Part of the Movie

Josh Brolin's Badge - I'll spare the specifics since it would technically constitute a spoiler.  However, keep an eye on it.  The movie was many names into the closing credits before I noticed I was still rolling my eyes and shaking my head like clockwork.

Honorable Mentions: Ryan Gosling's Voice, Goofy One-Liners
 

The Best Parts of the Movie

The Violent Action - Here's a point that I saw listed as a weakness numerous times - mainly because of the amount of it - in critical reviews of the movie.  I rather liked the execution (and respected the amount) of the violent stunts in the movie, especially the car chase scene.  Sure, it was a lot.  And it was unapologetic.  But I wasn't overwhelmed by any feeling that it was just too much.  Some more thought and time could have been given to character development, at the cost of some action - like the appended Chinatown scene - with value added.  Even so, taking the movie as it was, this was roughly my line of reasoning as I walked out of the theater thinking about the complaints of excessive violence:

• In case anyone missed it, this movie was called Gangster Squad, which 
• suggests it somehow involves, I don't know, some sort of... "Gangster Squad", which 
• suggests we'll see the story of this "Gangster Squad" from its point of view, which 
• involved a violent-as-necessary approach to busting Cohen's rackets, an objective which 
• would require a heavy-handed approach from a group of uninhibited unknowns, which 
• was the design - cops initially unrecognized by Cohen with the freedom to use brutal force.

The Visuals - I'm a sucker for crime stories set in LA during this era.  Despite its flaws, I expect mid-century Los Angeles to somehow be represented in my version of heaven, if it exists and I make the cut.  Gangster Squad was full of eye candy, ever-beautifully capturing the architecture, fashion, and mood of the noir style.  The femme fatale exceeds expectation, and should have had an even bigger role.  Slapsy Maxie's looks cooler here than it ever really did, I'm sure.  Another pretty noir-style film in recent memory - The Black Dahlia - was as awfully performed as it was gorgeous.  Despite having an incredible amount of material to draw upon from my favorite author's book, the film version remains one of the only movies I've begun enthusiastically only to refuse seeing it through to the end.  In Gangster Squad, you don't have a perfect film (and were you expecting perfection, really?), but you do have enough entertainment value to have not rendered its beauty a terrible waste.

Honorable Mentions:  Emma Stone's Over-achievement, GS Social Media Presence


Key Points of Summary

I generally concurred with one synopsis (Peter Rainer's) in particular.  The movie's self-identity seemed to be a little bit off at times.  Some aspects (dialogue in particular) seem to parody the noir style, while (I think for the most part) the goal was to keep the story honestly moving forward along the admittedly narrow plot line.

I generally disagree with the practice of forcing a comparison between Gangster Squad and some of the greatest directors (like Scorcese) and movies (like LA Confidential or Chinatown) of the gangster genre in the last four decades.  Maybe a comparison to The Untouchables is more fair, given the plots of the films, but Gangster Squad simply is not as bad as 2/3 of the "professional" critics seem to think.  And I'm saying this from a position where I see most of their complaints.  But virtually the same proportion of critics liked/disliked The Black Dahlia, with the Rotten Tomatoes consensus seeming to pity that it had to be compared with the best gangster films.  But you know what?  Brian DePalma - having directed Scarface and The Untouchables - at least had some practice in the genre before driving The Black Dahlia off the road and squandering Ellroy's good work.  It seems more fair to hold DePalma and The Black Dahlia to such an standard than to expect so much from Ruben Fleischer and Gangster Squad.  I'm not saying give it a free pass - I had plenty of gripes about Gangster Squad - but I also had no reason to believe that Fleischer was going to come from Zombieland (the best on his short list of features, but which I did like) and get Ryan Gosling (Ryan Gosling) to turn in a performance that would rival Jack Nicholson, Robert Deniro, or even Guy Pearce for that matter.  Sorry if you expected that.  If you haven't seen it, maybe do yourself the same favor I did and drop your expectations to a more realistic level, save a few bucks by seeing a matinee, and enjoy Gangster Squad for its strengths: beauty and entertainment.

Overall, I come back to where I started: Gangster Squad isn't a great movie because it has numerous flaws.  On the other hand, I don't think I'm being overly forgiving when I reiterate that those flaws don't detract from the experience enough to actually make it a lousy, "rotten" movie.  And maybe I should clarify that it's really the critics I disagree with here, since two-thirds of the viewers (as opposed to only one third of the critics on Rotten Tomatoes) could appreciate the film without over-sensitively crapping on it because of valid (but minor) peeves.

I gave the film 3.5 stars out of 5 (it averages 3.7 with the Rotten Tomatoes audience), primarily carried by the aesthetic and entertainment values.  I think I'd have considered going with a solid 4 until the aforementioned Josh-Brolin's-Badge-joke-of-a-scene.

Here to Save the Day... of THE DEAD

The Day of the Dead - more authentically known as Dia de los Muertos - is only a week away and I realized how little time I have to prepare between now and November 2!  Worse yet, stores like Halloween City have popped up in our neighborhood but there are no offerings specific to Dia de los Muertos.

In an effort to strike a compromise - as I'm sure Halloween lovers have already torn the tags off their Jason masks and sultry nurse outfits - I encourage those without costumes (or with a face open) to don a skeletal mask.

But not just any skeletal mask!  In an effort to help extend the reach of Dia de los Muertos to celebriphilic Americans (like myself), I realized that one approach might be to make the skeletal decor of the day more recognizable.  A huge chunk of the Halloween costume market depends upon pop culture references and celebrities.  Thus, I have started a line of celebrity-inspired Dia de los Muertos skull masks, starting with three of the most familiar (well, familiar to me) faces from Mexico:










Fernandomania continues into the afterlife!  That is, hypothetically will continue, since Fernando Valenzuela is thankfully still very much alive.  Be sure to hold a baseball and glove high above your head so the poor guy has something to look at.  Don't put those eyes to waste! 

I was looking through a gallery of some of Frida Kahlo's artwork the other night.  This rendition incorporates details from a few of the more striking pieces (though they are all rather striking).  In homage to one in particular, Diego and I (1949), the skull of Diego Rivera makes a cameo appearance here.

Finally, here's a mask that can serve at least triple-duty over the next few weeks.  You've got Halloween.  TV news is abuzz with Mitt Romney's poor performance in the race against President Obama to sell Halloween masks.  But the Romney masks are missing two important features: 1) the "Little Face" Mitt, of Tumblr fame and 2) the skull angle!  I know, it's probably so obvious to you now.  You get one day to rest, then it's on to the Dia de los Muertos parties in your LFM mask.  You may or may not know that Romney's dad was born in Chihuahua, Mexico, making him a suitable likeness on a technicality (while also benefiting from Fernando's being-alive technicality).  You almost certainly know Governor Romney as the GOP nominee for US President, though, and therein lies your third opportunity.  Wear a miniature expression of his confidence and enthusiasm across your much larger face when you go to vote.  Note: This mask is perhaps best worn ironically.


If I saved your Halloween/Dia de los Muertos/Election season like I think I did, you're mighty welcome.  You're a good person if you've come to my humble blog (I have filters for that sort of thing), and you deserve the best! 

Time Travel Baseball - Part 1

Wow, where do I begin?  You're all going to call me crazy, but I just dug up a great news article from the future that I had to share.  Yes, that future, the one which (to our knowledge) has yet to happen has searchable archival newspaper clippings.  Nothing of great consequence - no war coverage or sports results that would be of economic value, so don't ask - but I found a cool article that essentially proves my great-great-great grandson was (will be?) a big baseball fan just like me.

Have a look at the article:

I KNOW!  I'm going to keep digging, see if I can find out more about how things play out for the Donovans.  My successes are few and far between so far - sometimes searching the right keywords in the right databases is more of an art than a science - but here's another treat to hold you over until I have another big break.

The Donovans logo:

The face on that baseball remind you of anyone?  I must have some scruffy genes to pass on to the coming generations.

Hating on Suburban Apartment "Life"

This is where I'd like to live...

Right up there...  And let me tell you why, in the uncharacteristically (and unnecessarily?) strong language of loathing - hate* speech:

I hate* commute-style driving...

...same thing, every day.  Same roads.  Waiting at the same off-sync traffic lights.  Sharing the road with the same reckless jerks.  Squeezing into the same lousy parking lots and garages.  A depressing process on repeat.  I've tried to make the best of having to commute by driving (and especially parking) during campus down times and taking alternate routes.  But now I've run out of intriguing angles from which to take cell phone pictures at red lights...

...so I'm ready walk or take the bike.  I'm landlocked between two big highways and just out of reach in my current locale, but with any luck I'll find a new place with access to downtown.  At the very least, it'd be nice to have bike lanes and sidewalks as givens.  Right now, none of the following are within reasonable/safe walking distance: groceries, post office, library, parks, retail anything.  Give me just a few of these options (major bonus points if I can work and live in the same area) and I'll be thrilled.  If I could do walking errands just once or twice a week my exercise, fresh air, stress-relief, and vitamin D stats would be way up from their present levels.

I hate* urban sprawl...

...and generic suburbia.  I've become stuck in the inefficient mid-range between my two visions of ideal (and, arguably, green in their own senses) living space...

• The wilderness - no neighbors for miles, living off the land.
• The urban jungle - could be greener, but high population density can be unwittingly eco-friendly.

...so from here I'd gladly gravitate inward toward true city life.  Even if you pack in people to every side, and stack them above and below, I'll waive my misanthropy clause for the sake of convenience.  For my complex, I have a pretty nice spot (hand-picked) with a honey locust tree near my south-facing (see: natural light) porch.  But set me above a business where I can people-watch in a historic neighborhood, or put me a few floors up in Indianapolis' downtown proper and there could be quite a lot to observe.

I hate* cookie-cutter apartments...

...with paper-thin walls.  I can endure older appliances (it's not like the "modern" machines in typical apartments are all Energy Star), because there's at least an excuse for their inefficiency.  Where a nice retrofit has been done in an old building, I'd be glad to lend rent money in support of the efforts.  A solidly-built, well-insulated space could decrease the heating bills and neighbor noise, and an older building with some character would be a fun place to host, show off, and occupy day-to-day.  Throw in a cool view from the window and a multi-purpose use of space (e.g. placement above a restaurant, shop, or office) and I'd be a happy camper.

--------------------------
*  Hate is a strong word, I know that.  I was going to qualify and soften my word choice in this footnote, but then I realized that it's reasonably accurate and more interesting to read this way.

L.A. Confidential and the Personality Behind It

Likely to come up pretty regularly here in the future, I'm sure, are the ways that I think James Ellroy is cool and how I could see aspects of his personality successfully commodified (if the other aspects weren't so anti-modern and anti-popular culture).  Since I started to sporadically read the LA Quartet last summer with The Black Dahlia, I've been gripped by Ellroy's writing style and genre.  At some point while I was reading my favorite so far, The Big Nowhere, I found both transcribed (The Paris Review - The Art of Fiction No. 201) and video ("James Ellroy's Feast of Death") interviews with this author and became all the more fascinated.

The guy has a totally sad (a murdered mom + womanizing alcoholic father) and creepy (voyeuristic, breaking and entering, etc.) background, and while he might have practically leveled out to the point that he poses no exceptional threat to society he is still one of the more charismatic and crazy (and vulgar) speakers I've heard.  I'm sure that it's by and large a meticulously planned act, but his attitude, stated politics, closed-mindedness toward contemporary writers and popular culture, and shocking/highly quotable statements rival his books in terms of entertainment.  Just the way he reads aloud his own writing is bizarre, intense, and emphasized in a manner that the reading voice in my head can't replicate.

Somewhere I read The Big Nowhere referred to as "sprawling," a description that captures both it and L.A. Confidential.  The (joking?) word on White Jazz is that Ellroy's manuscript was cut to a third of its original length when he went back and excised all the verbs.  I'm sure this is in some frighteningly large part true, as I've heard descriptions of the minimalist, word-economical shifts Ellroy has made over his career and he seems just crazy/gifted enough to systematically hack through his own draft and end up with something that works.  On that point, I've seen White Jazz referred to as one of his masterpieces in addition to The Big Nowhere (incidentally, the two books in the LA Quartet that haven't been rehashed into a major film).  I needn't read anymore to know that The Big Nowhere is a special book, and I'm excited to (slowly and distractedly, I'm afraid) work through White Jazz.

Anyway, after a very long and unintentional foray into the personality that is James Ellroy, let's segue into the short chat about the incarnations of L.A. Confidential that I originally set out to write...

[Above: Here is a rough depiction of the time and place where I go when I'm reading an Ellroy book.  The setting is deceptively simple, go out into the world and the personalities are complicated: twisted, corrupt, violent, and greedy.  At any given time, it's a beautiful, exciting, often chilling and believably well-constructed place.] 

L.A. Confidential versus "L.A. Confidential"

One of the greatest things I've ever heard come out of another human being's mouth is James Ellroy's "final comment" on "L.A. Confidential," the movie.  It's a recount of his discussion with old ladies at a video store, topics ranging from Kevin Spacey's sexuality to the masterful storytelling in the film.  His reaction to finding out the ladies weren't inspired to buy the book after watching the movie was so rude that he almost certainly didn't (but, then again, very possibly did) say it.  But just to have, first, thought to say it, and next, claimed to say it in an interview that introduces him to tons of potentially new readers shows some public image cajones. 

He refers to the movie as a "salutary adaptation" to his "wonderful novel."  [It's worth noting that, while I've seen the interview enough times to probably quote the entirety of his statement, I endorse finding "James Ellroy's Feast of Death" on Netflix Instant or YouTube (1st hit on the search: james ellroy la confidential) and watching it.  The quote is the very beginning of the documentary, which has subsequent ups (more eye-opening quotes) and downs (it deals with his mother's death, which is of course sad, but also Elizabeth Short's murder in a lot more detail than many would find interesting without prior knowledge).]  And in my opinion, the movie really is awesome.  I was inspired to read L.A. Confidential when I watched "L.A. Confidential" for the third or fourth time, but only just now finished the book because I challenged myself to start at the beginning of the Quartet (no regrets).  However, when he calls it an "adaptation" Ellroy must have missed one of his major *emphasis* cues, because the movie was an ADAPTATION in every capital/italic sense of the word.  The names haven't changed, but some big ones just don't carry over.  So many side stories and characters get lost in the movie, not to mention years of chronology.  I tend, like many, to unwittingly view the film story as the "correct" version if I read a book after the fact (and vice-versa, of course), but the differences between the film and book (plus the fact that they're both excellent independently of each other) were substantial enough that I could truly enjoy the separate stories, identities, and moods of each.  Not surprisingly, the movie augmented the more glitzy, simplified, Hollywood aspects of the book, leaving to Ellroy's work much more of the underworld darkness, character development, and subplots that are a tight fit in a 500-page book and simply impossible to capture in a 100-minute movie. 

Bottom line:  The film and book versions of L.A. Confidential are both excellent, I recommend them both in no particular order.  I don't think that it is vital to start from the beginning of the LA Quartet to enjoy this third book, but I think it's worth it - especially when you get The Big Nowhere for your effort.  I think after a shorter "breather" book I'll be ready to jump into White Jazz.

Super Bowl XLVI

The Super Bowl left town almost a week ago, and most things have returned to normal.  As as a casual Indianapolis Colts fan I'll admit it was nice to see Tom Brady and the rival Patriots go home empty handed, especially after having to drive around their set-up at the University Place Hotel on campus where I work and study at IUPUI.  On Sunday, we had a nice little party with close friends and watched the game from kickoff through post-game celebrations.  This was the first time, however, that a Super Bowl had amounted to more than the game and commercials for me, and in all it was certainly an experience to rival (exceed, in some ways) the interest of the Colts' victory in Super Bowl XLI back when I had first moved to Indianapolis.

In fact, despite the legitimately exciting nature of the game, the whole concept of the teams playing seemed like kind of an afterthought following the week-plus of action in Super Bowl Village downtown.

[Above: Enormous XLVI and Lombardi Super Bowl Trophy Stickers on the east facade of the JW.]

[Below: The view at night, with the stickers lit up by light rigs atop the parking garage across the street.]

 [Right: View of the decorated JW from the south.]

Even before the Village opened, I could see Indianapolis changing day by day on my commute to school/work downtown.  The Lombardi trophy - aka probably the biggest sticker most people will ever hope to see - started as a few golden strips on the front side of the JW Marriott.  They hung the strips of the decal over the course of days the way you'd hang wallpaper over the course of an afternoon.  The trophy and other giant decals on the facade of the JW were heavily photographed...

[Left: The enormously sized, inexplicably captivating, highly photographed and gawked-at XLVI letters just to the south of the monument on the circle.]

...but I'm betting not as much as the giant "XLVI" letters staged on the South Meridian side of Monument Circle.  It was a really bizarre thing, huge letters doubling as video screens, apparently the mecca of photo opportunities.  Admittedly, we were among those photographing and being pictured with the letters - both nights we were there, even.  The buzz on the radio was that the letters appeared in a MILLION pictures during the week leading up to the Super Bowl.  I don't doubt that, given our temporary fixations on them and the incredible number of people all over the place, who...

[Above: Just a handful of the tons of people packed onto Georgia Street for a concert which, from my perspective, barely happened.  Somewhere at the end of this block was where the stage presumably stood.  Less than 10 minutes after this shot, I was being crushed in a giant horde of all of these people!]

...flooded the streets to the tune of 150,000 people on Friday night alone.  I like people well enough, in moderation.  But my idea of moderation is fewer than ten, probably maxing out at six people in my immediate vicinity.  Needless to say, the 30,000-fold increase from my comfort zone was a little awkward, especially since tens of thousands of those people seemed to have grazed/slammed into me in the chaos that was leaving the LMFAO (who?) concert.  And we were hardly close enough to hear, much less see the show.  I'd seen the insanity of the Egyptian soccer stadium riots just days before, so with that fresh in my mind it was actually pretty tense for the 15-20 minutes we were at a cramped standstill.  I (think I...?) can take pride in the fact that neither the atmosphere nor the people to turn a giant human traffic jam into a riot were present in Indy that night.

Without hesitation, I can say that the spectacle of the Super Bowl made for some memorable evenings.  Some of it was too crazy for words, though my crudely-built cartoon at the top hints at factual occurrences - though in a spatial context well outside any laws of geography - both mentioned and spared of detail here.

In fact I made myself list out the Top Ten most memorable things I witnessed/experienced at Super Bowl Village on the Friday night visit.  Below are the six that I didn't find too ridiculous to state publicly:

#3 - The utter inability to ever find/establish contact with people who were a maximum of two blocks away.
#4 - Being crushed/shoved about by approximately150,000 people.
#5 - Retrospect: Knowing now that some cohort of that 150,000 was passing the measles around.
#8 - Seeing a red carpet surrounded by star-stalkers trying to find some Kardashian at the Conrad.
#9 - Having to drive to three separate Steak-N-Shakes before finally getting seated at one in a suburb.
#10 - The fear/expectation that when the zipline inevitably snaps, I'll be the one that dies by breaking the daredevil's fall.  Fortunately (obviously), that didn't happen.

Overall, I think it was a positive thing for the city in most ways.  I heard and read a lot of praise both the weeks before and after the Super Bowl for the city and the people, and all sorts of chatter about making a bid to host again in a handful of years.  Early February weather might not be so accommodating the next go-around, but hopefully the rest of the good times and presentation can be matched or bested if the city does host again.

E! True Hollywood Story: Planarians

Above:  The cruel price of fame for a young, famous and fast-living Planarian.  Trading in microscope lights for camera flashbulbs, constant scrutiny and pressures to be a role model mixed with the high highs of success make for a bumpy ride for the celebrity.  Not actually sure why I drew this but it's somehow better than finding a license-free pic of a flatworm.

Phylum = Platyhelminthes (phylogeny)
Layered tissues x3 (triploblasty) - endoderm, mesoderm, endoderm
Acoelomate - no body cavity
Nuclei abound - syncytial tegument
Anatomy of digestion = mouth/pharynx/gastrovascular cavity
Representative genus = Dugesia
Intestinal cavity w/ diverticula
Aquatic, free-living carnivores
Not to be confused with segmented flatworms (e.g. tapeworms)
Sense w/ auricles and eyespots

In the freshman biology lab I teach, I stress the importance of organization and study skills as much as I push the course material to my students.  The reason being that 100-level courses (at least in my experience) can actually be the most difficult to prepare for, given the enormous range of information they often cover.  I was toying around with different ways to present information and put myself to the challenge of creating a mnemonic.  In the first week of lab, we covered a few protists as well as cnidarians and flatworms.  Planarians (a common name for organisms found in Class Turbellaria of the flatworm Phylum Paltyhelminthes) were the most reasonable to work with, but I obviously had to take some liberties with wording.

Playing off the letters P-L-A-N-A-R-I-A-N-S, I managed to squeeze into an impractically complicated device most of the distinctive features that the students are expected to know about the Turbellarians (and, often, Platyhelminthes in general).  Certainly not all, and it doesn't begin to help with drawings, microscope slides, etc.  For the record, the same exercise feels doable with CNIDARIANS but it'd take a more experienced scientist than me to solve the PLATYHELMINTHES puzzle. 

I might use this space to check in with my teaching assignment semi-regularly this semester.  It's a handy opportunity for me to review, plus I think it's an interesting way for non-science majors to see what they're missing (in a relatively enjoyable way) and for biologists like me to look back and see a snippet of the incredible amount of information we learned in the average week/lab/semester, even very early in our undergraduate careers.  It's definitely easier to appreciate in retrospect and from the point-of-view of exam-writer instead of exam-taker.