Juneau

As noted recently, I clubbed Viv across the head and dragged her by her hair to attend a suite of Oscar nominated films this past weekend. I’ve already treated of There Will Be Blood, my pick for best of the three. I will ho’d off on No Country For Old Men as the film provoked the most complex, postmodern reactions in my mind and I’m not done thinking about it.

Juno, on the other hand, lived up to its’ rep and my expected response. I don’t think I have anything in specific to contribute to the critical literature on the film, but I wanted to get my own experience down so that a few years from now, I can consult my own record.

The film first came to my attention on seeing the flat-out terrific first trailer sometime this summer, possibly preceding Ratatouille or Knocked Up. I actually forced everyone I work with to watch the trailer, something I avoid in general, being quite aware that the quality of a trailer has literally nothing to do with the quality of the film it advertises.

When the film opened, I was interested to read and hear some of the press work associated with the film’s publicity, interviews with the scriptwriter and director, that sort of thing. When I gained a sense of the narrative arc of the film – teenage pregnancy ends in smiles thanks to the miracle of adoption – my interest in the film plummeted to near-zero.

Now, I am an adopted person and one with a specific rage toward my birth parents, who will remain forever anonymous to me by personal choice (not that I’ve been contacted, but in closed adoptions the parties must both agree to contact as adults and I would not agree if contacted). While aware of this, I am not convinced that my drift in interest stemmed from my own background as much as it did from a sense that I had already seen the film, in Knocked Up.

Of course Juno is very different from Knocked Up. But both films treat a real-world problem – the unexpected and unwanted pregnancy – with previously unseen psychological delicacy, sympathy, and lightheartedness. Sadly, from my perspective, it appears that this particular approach is one which I find tiresome after a mere two outings. Give me angst and rage or cartoon melodrama over comedy which includes realist characterizations when babies are involved, apparently.

I feel that both films artificially resolve complicated situations that, until the falsely-happy plot resolution, are presented with sympathy and complexity. I did not find these resolutions convincing or satisfying.

Returning to Juno in particular, I specifically found the adoption plot element disinteresting as I watched the film. My attention wandered in the scenes which directly involved the adoptive couple and which were more focused on the mechanics of the impending adoption than on Juno’s impeccable taste in rock music. This is interesting to me, because I don’t think it was due to poor scripting or direction or cinematography.

I think it was psychologically defensive boredom stemming from a desire to avoid time spent in the company of my own emotions regarding my adoption. I do think I have a handle on my adoption, and it runs like this: the parents that raised me are my real parents. I love and honor them.

The parents that bore me are of no interest to me, and I bear them considerable ill will. Is that ill will based on rage at abandonment? Or is it based on coming into being? I know what my own answer to this question is, and I know that literally no-one in my circle of social relations either believes or respects my own self-analysis in this matter, something that strongly contributes to my ongoing social withdrawal.

SF

As noted earlier, we stopped by the EMP-slash-Science Fiction Musuem or whatever it’s called this weekend, and much to my surprise, shoehorned into the corner and basement of the Gehry Blob, it’s a superior museum and display experience to the EMP.

I’m not fully sure why this is. Partly it seems to be a reflection that SF fandom has always emphasized the cult of the physical object – the book, the zine, the prop – over the act that sacralizes the object – wearing the costume, writing the book. Thus, seeing vitrines filled with mixed stuff – book cheek by jowl with prop and poster – is of greater interest to me than the act of gazing on Greg Ginn’s now-mute plexiglas SG.

Additionally, it was interesting to see several books currently in my archives on display in editions suspiciously similar to those I own. Among these were mid-seventies editions of both Delany’s Dhalgren and Brunner’s The Sheep Look Up.

Of course, the original command chair from TOS Star Trek is on display, and that was cool to see. But my very favorite props were small. One was a can of Leopard Lager from Red Dwarf, which caused me to reflect upon my foolishness in giving away the Red Dwarf series one ‘baby girl scutter’ prop that a coworker once gave me. She’d received it as a going-away present from the show’s propmaster just before moving to the US. For a few years it was a totemic presence in my living room during the KCTS-9 Red Dwarf marathons.

The other item I relished as if it were tranya was the 18-inch molded-plastic AMT Enterprise model used in a scene shot for The Trouble with Tribbles. I had long heard that this kit was used by the TOS effects team, and having built it myself around 1974 or so I was charmed beyind measure to see the tiny ship, painted grey and decals flaking, mounted at kneecap level.

re: Castro

I’ve been asked about this a few times today, so here’s the standard reply, which is a straight-up party-line Cuban-American family reply:

Fidel’s retirement doesn’t really change anything, today. It might, if Raoul actually creates programs to change various economic or even political practices. But Raoul’s track record is not such that one anticipates big change.

On the other hand, maybe the family is really getting ready to step aside, and if so, who knows?

Here in the US, it can be tricky to talk about this stuff in our families, precisely because it evokes such strong emotions. Personally, I surely hope the US embargo is lifted shortly, as it has clearly not resulted in meaningful political or economic adjustments to U.S. or Cuban-exile demands. Likewise, I surely hope that the various on-island cultural, political, and economic pretzels Cubans and others have bent themselves into can be unbent with lissome Carribbean grace and good sense.

Calvin

A major feature in today’s P-I profiles indie-music stalwart Calvin Johnson and his career in tyhe wake of a serious 2003 accident. As befits the subject, the piece is self-evidently heartfelt. Written by one Travis Nichols, it’s clearly the work of someone who is deeply familiar with Johnson’s work. I’ve noticed Nichols’ byline here and there lately; more power to him, and I can’t wait until he starts writing about people and things he hasn’t cared about at all in the past, because I believe that is when one takes one’s measure in gigs such as the ones he is pursuing at the moment.

I remain amazed to see a major, front-of-section feature in ANY daily on artists that matter to me, as Calvin does.

Doheny Blood

As noted, among other films this weekend Viv and I took in There Will Be Blood. For me it clearly seemed a step up from Anderson’s other ambitious films and while to claim I enjoyed watching it would be inaccurate, the film was clearly great.

In the ending sequences of the film, the oilman character played by Daniel Day-Lewis is living in a sprawing neo-Tudor 1920’s mansion, and I was struck by the interiors, which seemed exactly right for a late-20’s Tudor-revival construction. This style is familiar to me as I lived in a 1928 Anhalt building here in Seattle for thirteen years, and the interiors in the film seemed too detailed and persuasive to me to have been sets constructed wholly from scratch.

A bit of the old googly-moogly led me to the entry for Greystone Mansion, apparently a city park smack in the middle of Beverly Hills. The house was constructed in 1928 for the son of Orange County land baron and oilman Edward Doheny.

A prominent Orange County coastal feature in OC is named for the family, Doheny Point. coastal park in the city of Dana Point is named for the family, Doheny State Beach.

In the film, Plainview constructs an oil pipeline through from the interior to the sea in Central California, “near Santa Barbara,” according to the Wikipedia entry for the film. I myself heard reference to San Luis Obispo, which is just inland from Morro Bay, south of Carmel and north of Oxnard and Ventura.

Having long heard the Doheny name on visits to my in-laws, I was fascinated to learn of the connection to a real-world oil tycoon, and began to read the Wikipedia article on the house with relish. Imagine my eyebrows, if you will, as I read these words:

“On February 16, 1929, four months after Ned Doheny, his wife Lucy and their five children moved into Greystone, Ned died in his bedroom in a murder-suicide with his secretary, Hugh Plunket.[3] The official story indicated Plunket murdered Ned either because of a “nervous disorder” or inflamed with anger over not receiving a raise. Others point out that Ned’s gun was the murder weapon and that Ned was not buried in a Catholic cemetery with the rest of his family, indicating that he had committed suicide. Both men were involved in the trial of Ned’s father in the Teapot Dome scandal.”

Additionally, the character of Daniel Plainview comes from Fond du Lac, Wisconsin, we learn in the film. Here’s what Wikipedia has to say about the elder Doheny:

“Doheny was born in Fond du Lac, Wisconsin.”

A bit further down the page, in reference to the Teapot Dome scandal reference above:

Doheny faced criminal charges over the incident but was cleared of all charges. The scandal is also the inspiration for Upton Sinclair’s novel, ‘Oil!’, based in part on Doheny’s life.

Although my understanding is that Anderson and his filmmaking team have only loosely adapted Sinclair’s novel, they sought opportunities to closely relate Plainview and Doheny.

Achievers!

This weekend viewed, in theater:

Juno
There Will Be Blood
No Country For Old Men

Misc other:

Visited EMP and SF museum

Chores completed:

Vacuuming
Dishes
Veterinarian visit for dog
Long dog walk
Grocery run
Pantry straightened up, old food tossed
Straightened up both living rooms
Passport applications filed
Online housecleaning and updates finished

Fugue

Today while out and about we passed a man lying on his belly on the sidewalk in his underwear. He had quite clearly just shit his pants. It was quite cold, and a pair of missionizing, tie-wearing young men were unfortunate enough to be the first people to walk by the man.

Given their current metier, they were compelled to engage the man in conversation, presumably an oveture to an offer of aid or a phone call to the police.

We did not remain in the vicinity long enough to determine which it was to be.

1703 sheets

Star Trek LCARS Blueprints Database: “There are currently 1,703 Blueprint Sheets Online.”

Apparently, the online world of Trek fandom has sprung up again in the wake of Paramount dropping intimidation lawsuits as a fan-retention strategy. This site is only a partial node of the parent site, which appears to be devoted to making out-of-print Trekanalia available online, as is the case with this really quite incredible collection of Trek blueprints.

Back in the 70s, I had hard-won early editions of the Franz Joseph / Bantam Enterprise blueprints and Starfleet Technical manual, which inspired a limitless array of variously professional and otherwise interpretations of Trek tech as envisioned by your shop teacher.

Still, these documents were among the aspects of Star Trek that drew it closer to me than the Star Wars universe. Star Wars fans made and make obsessively accurate and cinematically detailed costumes; Trek fans produced obsessively detailed and quite uncinematic blueprints. Star Wars fans thought they were creating for the camera; Star Trek fans thought they were creating for a new world.

I wonder what the shift to embrace fan-created and fan-inspired content means for Star Trek? After all, the upcoming film is generally thought to have been greenlit based on the presence of competing fan film projects that used new actors to portray Kirk, Spock, McCoy et al.

I have a hard time imagining that it would result in the fictional world of canonical Star Trek suddenly embracing the anarchy of a copyright-free sci-fi souk. No, the appeal of the series – especially the first series – is specifically authoritarian, and the fan content seen here adopts that rhetorical tone.

These documents are savory precisely because they adopt the voice of authority as camouflage, of NASA technical documents and NORAD strike plans, and the particular thrill of these items was always that they never dropped the pose by inserting the Paramount logo or a special guest appearance by, oh, Lucille Ball into the apparent documentary evidence for a better future.

The pose is, I must admit, something I personally savor and have a bit of experience of.