MeyerBros

my reviews of “snakes on a plane”, “a man without a country” by kurt vonnegut jr., and a South Bend Tribune review of “Danny and the Deep Blue Sea” as performed at New World Arts.
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excuse: it had john cusack and billy bob thornton. not that that means much anymore, but it was worth a shot.

result: fargo without the good.

tag line: never trust someone else to do a coen brother’s job.

it does seem like there is a consistent slide in quality films coming out of the movie industry. especially, perhaps, in the writing. and they wonder why sales are dropping off in the theatres…

so i saw Syriana the other night (i should note that i watched most of the movie by myself, because aparently it wasn’t good enough to keep the attention of hannah and kelly for more than 45 minutes). i thought it was a decent movie, but way too complicated to really understand without rewinding a few times. i have to admit that i actually watched 3/4 of the movie, read the wikipedia synopsis, and then finished the movie. i had most of the plotlines and characters correct, but there were a few things i definitely would not have caught without reading the synopsis, even after watching the entire movie. perhaps the characters are a bit stereotyped (especially how all Arabs are presented as puppets of the US). oh, and it criticizes the US, which is why columnist Charles Krauthammer says “Osama bin Laden could not have scripted this film with more conviction.” well, i’d like to see him try anyway.

i would review this movie, because i did watch it, but the ninja beat me to it and said everything worth saying.

and then said some more things - but go check it out.

(hint: not a great movie)

this is an expiriment in reviewing a book in the style of the book itself. don’t trust it. in fact, i wouldn’t bother reading it. it goes bad by the end of the first paragraph, and paragraph three is entirely innapropriate. some of the comments might be interesting though. you could just skip to them.

this isn’t right.

this is right. it’s the only way to do this, get it all over with at once. it’ll be great. self referential and everything, just like A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, except more so because it’s a review written in the style of the book. maybe even from the perspective of the author. no. yes. or as me writing as the author or the other way around. a self aware review mixed with vacation memoire about a memoir book. it’ll be the best thing i’ve ever written. it is the best thing i’ve ever written. you’re going to love it. you do love it. you hate it. i can tell you hate it. you’re never going to talk to me again. i’ll become depressed and and start drinking too much - random sex without condoms - AIDS - and then you’ll feel sorry. why don’t you like me anymore?

i really wasn’t that impressed with several things. AHWOSG, for one, and the eiffel tour for two. also versailles and AHWOSG again. the book just wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. i wasn’t sure it went anywhere. the eiffel tour and versailles certainly did not go anywhere. they were big.

i should probably also mention that i haven’t had much sex in a while (with or without condoms) and even masturbation has been lacking. and while i know i will be judged by all of you for saying that, it doesn’t really matter because i could be lying. i am lying. maybe i’m lying. if i am i apologise, but still think you deserve it.

the point is, the book didn’t do much for me. neither did the french revolution. french cheese on the other hand… and oh the fondue… etc.

orgasmic, you might say.

is this pornography? how will we know? can we define the destinction between art and porn? can dave eggers define it? bobby meyer-lee? who’s definition would we go by?

how about mental illness? who defines that? who has it? what should we do about it?

racism?

this is an apology for this post. i’m very sorry. i’m not sorry. blame dave.

Eduardo Machado is a Cuban (/American) playwright with a lot to say. He gave a pretty gutsy talk a couple weeks ago that I find inspiring, challenging and moving. I am in the midst of finishing up plans for the next New World Arts season, and some of what he said hit me right in the gut.

He weaves together thoughts about immigration, the wall being built on the Mexico border, and his own experiences as a green card-carrying immigrant. His treatment as an “outsider” by a profession (theatre) that I believe should be on the cutting edge of acceptance is appalling. This flows into his thoughts about theatre, about not trying to make audiences happy, and about bravery. He rails against rampant entitlement issues, including the “entitlement” to be trained as a theatre artist - which really just plays into making theatre more corporate-minded.
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So we saw Jane Eyre tonight at Trafalgar Studios on the West End. Great directing, great acting, great set, great lighting–great show! The company is Shared Experience, and Polly Teale is co-Artistic Director. No wonder they’ve performed After Mrs. Rochester a lot, and now also Jane Eyre and another one she wrote called Bronte. Helen Edmundson, who wrote Mill On the Floss used to be a member of the company as well. But yeah, it was definitely worth the amazing 4th row center 17.50 pound seats (man I love London’s student concessions).

Tomorrow morning we’re up early to catch a 5:30 am cab to Heathrow airport, and then on to Bulgaria!

Dada Mail, the open-source list-management software we use at New World (and are looking at for MMA) is not a software app. That’s right. Computer software is the medium, Dada Mail is an art project.

“Readymade” concept art along the lines of Duchamp’s Fountain (signed urinal) - only not readymade. Built from scratch by an artist with little to no programming experience - this art piece is a medium of it’s own - providing (unlike a painting, say) eveything but the content.

Originally titled Mojo Mail, the name was changed to avoid a trademark infringment law suit from MOJO Mail - a silly idea since artwork is “titled” not “named” in the trademark sense. Any title may be used and reused by any artist. I wonder how long that will last. Will the trademark craze grow to the point where artists are fighting legal battles over titles, or will the new open-source e-wave win out? o, what fun.

Breakfast on Pluto is a great new movie with Cillian Murphy as an Irish transvestite in the 70’s. I watched tonight and was blown away. Another great story from writer/director Neil Jordan who also wrote and directed The Crying Game. Both are entirely worth your time - though this one is distinctly more positive (in its own little way) than the earlier. And Patrick ‘Kitten’ Braden rivals any of my uninterested heroes - defining a new, more intriguing, niche in the genre (The Dude (Big Lebowski) and Cool Hand Luke being other favorites).

Speaking of The Dude: Last night’s film was The Hudsucker Proxy, another Coen Brothers favorite of mine (co-written with Sam Raimi (who caught that the name ‘Hudsucker’ was stolen from an earlier Coen/Raimi collaboration (starring who else)? come on, people, try to keep up). Tim Robbins is great, I love Paul Newman, and I expected Bruce Campbell (I already linked to him) but suddenly I was seeing Steve Buscemi in a bit part and John Mahoney (who I loved on stage at the Steppenwolf in Chicago “I Never Sang for my Father”) as the newspaper editor. oh - the connections. i love (pseudo)indi-film.

Today I also ordered several books:

• Stone Cold Dead Serious by Adam Rapp
• Fat Pig by Neil Labute
• Indian Killer Sherman Alexie
• The Saint Plays Erik Ehn
• Passion Play: A Cycle by Sarah Ruhl

I’m most excited by those last two, with Sherman Alexi close behind (though this doesn’t look like his most interesting book (i’m not the thriller sort)).

i was just reading a play over at Charles Mee dot Org when i suddenly finished reading it and followed a link of his to somewhere and then to Illegal Art dot Org.

Charles Mee is one of my inspirations in thinking that just maybe Copywrite/right/rite is overdone and has a tendancy to hurt artists more than it might help them sometimes. PROGRAM NOTE: Charles Mee’s work is made possible by the support of Richard B. Fisher and Jeanne Donovan Fisher. And I think that’s great. And I think, being an artist, I would like to be paid. I would like for my work to be made possible. In the meantime I’m going to do it anyway. Impossible Art.

But you really should - and I would like you to - very carefully - turn off your pop-up blocking software and follow THIS LINK.

i like this conceptual design site. or what they make, more accurately. the way they break down functional expectations and then rebuild them. very interesting.

in other news: i wrote a peace play because it seemed like the right thing to do. i’m now in the editing phase. the working title is Another Pseudo-Allegory with Angels and Devils and Some Inappropriate Language in Six Parts: A Peace Play (download .rtf file). Thanks to Aristotle for his help with the structure.

just finnished “love” by Toni Morrison. i think it wasn’t what i expected, but who can remember exactly what they expected when they started reading a book? it kept me intrigued and kept me reading, so i’d recomend it.

then i got “metamagical themas” by Douglas R. Hofstadter out again. i may also start something like “kite runner” if Michelle has her way. sounds good to me.

So this is pretty amazing. Amazing enough that I’m posting the same thing here that I just posted on New World’s Action Comedy blog. But interesting to write about here for a different reason - the backstory is all about the politics of cooperative editing, etc. Perhaps some of you have already heard about this? Here’s what’s happening:

A guy wrote a story. It involved first-person language about spying on a semi-naked woman and murdering a homeless man, as well as volunteering to defend our country. Someone (quite possibly a disgruntled wikipedia user who was banned) called the school where writer-guy is a grad student and told them about the story, complaining that it looked suspicious. Writer-guy (okay, his name is Phil Sandifer) was subsequently investigated by the police, asked for fingerprints, etc. Apparently writing about stalking and murdering makes you a suspect for actually doing those things. No one asked him if he was actually thinking about defending our country.

So I went to the drive-in movie theater in Plymouth Indiana last night and saw Over the Hedge and Mission Impossible III for a total of $7. Not a bad deal, I must say. And the drive-in experience was kinda fun. They have speakers outside if you want to sit on blankets, or you can tune your car radio to a certain station for even better quality, depending on your car. Unfortunately, the drive-in theaters are sort of upset about this whole daylight savings time change thing, because all of a sudden they can’t start until 9:00 pm, and it was still too light outside. By 9:30 it was fine, but that meant that the 2nd movie didn’t end until 1:00 am.

So, M:I III…Good movie, overall. Way better than M:I II in any case, but that’s not saying much. The entire movie was a bit too action-packed and just another way for Tom Cruise to show off, but that’s to be expected. It had the usual plot twists that hardly count as “twists” anymore for M:I movies, and the fun gadgets, etc. Like everyone else, I liked the scene at the Vatican.

Over the Hedge was better. In the spirit of Ice Age, but with a more fun plotline and setting. Not a real thinker, but entertaining and humorous.

In other news, I’m moving into Carl’s room. He doesn’t know yet, but I’m pretty sure he won’t mind. And if he does, what’s he gonna do from 1000 miles away?

Wow. I feel totally honored to join y’all here as an official contributor. Hopefully you won’t downgrade my privileges anytime soon. Here’s my first post:

What I’ve Been Reading
(and would like to share with you)

1) “Holy Skirts” by Rene Steinke, a novel about the Baroness Elsa van Freytag-Lorenghoven. Subtitled “A novel of a flamboyant woman who risked all for art.”

This woman was courageous, outrageous, and true to herself even when it hurt. She didn’t just make art, she lived it. A close friend and would-be lover of Marcel Duchamp. She wore taillights, bird cages (avec bird), and postage stamps, among other things, and a Time writer wrote of her: “She was New York’s first punk persona 60 years before their time.” Everyone thought she was crazy by the end of her life, perhaps from syphillis, but perhaps, as Ezra Pound wrote of her in a poem:

“Well, of course, there was a certain strain
On the gal in them days in Manhattan
the principle of non-acquiescence
laid a burden.”

I think I want to write a play about her.
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