The science of poetry is the technique and tools of the author to create the poem and the voice of the poem. This is where the literary terms taught in classes come in: simile, metaphor, musical devices, rhyme patterns, imagery and structure. These are characteristics that set forms of poetry apart from other forms. Yet in this paradox of rules, poetry can break the rules. E. E. Cummings and Emily Dickinson are prime examples.

Because there are many great works that in no way resemble each other in structure of technique, defining poetry is difficult. However, the tie that binds poetry together is the essence that speaks to the reader or listener. That essence is "voice." A voice communicates the literal and underlying messages of the speaker; it contains the relevance, the theme, and the soul of the poem. Thus, voice is the art of poetry.

Therefore, in writing an essay on poetry, the writer needs to build a thesis statement that reflects the art and/or science of poetry: Communication, Relevance, Voice, Imagery, Technique and Structure. The focus of the essay may depend on what the writer wants to write about or what has been assigned by an instructor. It can be just about the theme of the poem, it can be about the speaker and voice, or it can be about the literary devices the author uses. Whatever the case or combination, the writer needs to look at the component(s) and pull examples from the poem that illustrate it. To do this, I ask my students questions.

Communication. Does the poem communicate a subject? Does the poem communicate a theme? Jean Toomer wrote "Reaper". The subject of the poem is a reaper cutting grass that cuts a rat. The theme of the poem, upon looking into the tools of imagery suggests that death is mechanical and continual. These subject and theme can comprise the whole essay depending how detailed the analysis breaks down the words and phrases.

Relevance. Is the subject or theme relevant or important to the reader? Can the reader relate to it? Most high school students say that the subject of "Reaper" is not relevant to them because they do not cut grass or work on a farm, yet the theme can be identifiable to them because they have dealt with death in some form.

Voice. Who is the speaker? Based on the words, what can you tell me about the speaker? What is the speaker's tone? What is the speaker's attitude or emotions? As with communication and relevance, voice is a major component that makes up the art of poetry. The voice gives us insight into the character of the speaker and the message and motivation of the character.

Imagery. What pictures are drawn? What senses are given pictures? How does imagery illustrate and communicate the speaker's voice and message? What
colors are used? How does the alliteration add to the sound of the poem? Imagery is the construction of "pictures" for any of the five senses These questions lead to metaphor, symbolism, concrete nouns, musical devices and word choice.

Technique and Structure. Does the chosen structure assist the poet in communicating the theme? How does the repetition of a line add to the voice of the speaker? In other words, what does the writer do to enhance the poem and make the above components work together? Technique and structure choice overlap. From this component comes the author's preferred style. It can take us from Dickinson's poetry of phrases to the metered rhyme pattern that adds a lyrical effect to Longfellow's "The Wreck of the Hesperus" and its tragic tale.

These six components work together in a good poem no matter the poet and the poem. So, when writing an essay on poetry, look at Communication, Relevance, Voice, Imagery, Technique and Structure to guide the construction of the thesis statement. This understanding of the art and science of poetry leads to infinite number of good essays where the essay can delve into the intricacies of what gave life to the body of work, what made the blood flow in the veins and what gave breath to the voice. In other words, what made it real? And one can write an essay that respects the soul of the poem and the mind of the poet.

Last Saturday night's offering involved The Shawshank Redemption. I've seen clips many times, I've even used them in a sermon or two, but I'd never sat down and watched the whole thing. I wasn't disappointed, although I did spend significant bits of it hiding behind a cushion with my fingers in my ears. Tee Hee.

I think the thing I liked most about Shawshank was its lessons about hope and perseverance. I was struck by the power struggle. A lot of the time it looked like injustice would triumph. It looked like there was no way to buck the trend or to maintain dignity. I loved the ending, the way everything was turned around. And it showed that victory wasn't won overnight, it was planned, literally chipped away at day by day for thirty years. That's patience!

One of the bits that struck me most was that, at the end, having dug a tunnel and crawled through it, the last leg of that crawl was 500m through a tiny sewage pipe. How often is that ‘last bit' of any challenge seemingly the worst bit and the moment when the temptation to quit is strongest? But it's all worth it when he is out of that pipe and feeling the rain on his chest and experiencing the scent of freedom, and that's true in our lives too.

Last night I watched Dead Poets Society. I knew nothing about it, but as the film began, I was soon engrossed. I laughed, I cried, I was inspired.

Two quotes I thought especially marvellous were:

"I went into the woods because I wanted to live deliberately. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life ... to put to rout all that was not life; and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived."

"Now I'd like you to step forward over here. They're not that different from you, are they? Same haircuts. Full of hormones, just like you. Invincible, just like you feel. The world is their oyster. They believe they're destined for great things, just like many of you, their eyes are full of hope, just like you. Did they wait until it was too late to make from their lives even one iota of what they were capable? Because, you see gentlemen, these boys are now fertilizing daffodils. But if you listen real close, you can hear them whisper their legacy to you. Go on, lean in. Listen, you hear it? --- Carpe --- hear it? --- Carpe, carpe diem, seize the day boys, make your lives extraordinary."
With hindsight, I notice that the themes were actually pretty similar to Shawshank. Take a repressive situation, add some characters who will shake that up a bit, throw in a devastating plot twist or two so it looks like they will be utterly subjugated, and then have hope and freedom triumph at the end.

In Dead Poets, that freedom is marred by pain. It is hard won, and tinged with a real sorrow. By the end, I was sat on my friend's sofa, amazed again by the strength of individuality, and yet raging against those situations which seek to oppress and force people to conform.

And that's perhaps why I don't watch many films. Because I can't bear to see a situation played out on screen that I know happens, in real life, all too often. Maybe without the 1950's music and the standing on tables, but in homes and schools and workplaces and dare I say even churches across this city. And I want to stand on a table then. To say it doesn't have to be this way. To encourage people to stand up, to face whatever would seek to repress them, to hold on in those situations where it feels like all life and colour is being drained out of their world, to wait for that moment when the back door is left unlocked and God says, ‘Go... run now. This is your time for freedom'.

And I want to find those who have run from those situations, only to find themselves in worse captivity. Prisoners to substance, or sex, or despair. And I want them to know that freedom is possible. That rescue is on the way. That there is a God who loves them desperately and has a plan for their redemption. And that they too, can live boldly, can rise above all that life has thrown at them, can find hope and joy and experience the rain falling on their faces and the scent of freedom turning everything around.

'용기는 창조의 원동력이다' 

이 말의 의미에 대해서 생각해 보았습니다.

  영화 '죽은시인의 사회'에서 키팅선생님은 첫날부터 파격적인 수업방식으로 공부에 찌든 학생들로 하여금 인생에 대한 근원적인 고민과 성찰을 하도록 만듭니다. 그저 교과서에 얽매인 경직된 사고방식으로 입시를 위한 하루하루를 보내던 학생들에게 이런 선생님의 교육은 퍽 충격적인 것이었습니다. 토드라는 한 소심한 학생이 시를 쓰는것을 어려워하자 키팅선생님은 토드로 하여금 눈을 감고 마음속에 있는 것들을 여과없이 내뱉게 하도록하여 멋진시상을 떠올리게 합니다.

  때때로 우리의 좋은 아이디어들은 우리 스스로가 만든 '벽'을 넘지 못하고 안타깝게 빛을 발하지 못하는 경우가 많이 있습니다. 저는 그 벽이 타인에 대한 지나친 의식, 안좋은 평판에대한 두려움, 완벽주의적사고에 의해서 만들어진다고 생각합니다. 우리의 생각이 항상 멋지고 세련된 것일수만은 없습니다. 그럼에도 불구하고 일단 내뱉는다는 것은 큰 의미가 있다고 생각합니다. 창조란 다양성에서 나오는 것이기 때문입니다. 그런 의미에서 브레인스토밍은 창조적인 생각을 이끌어 낼 수 있는 훌륭한 방법이라고 생각합니다. 역시 브레인스토밍에는 '다른사람의 생각에 대해서 비방하지 않기'라는 조건이 붙습니다. 모든 사람들이 조금이나마 더 용기를 발휘할 수 있게 만들기 위함이지요.

Apparently it is a new take on women in the work world, something that is much in the limelight ever since Palin was tapped by McCain -- no, not in the drunk frat boy and passed out sorority girl at a party sense, but in the to be his VP sense; sheesh! get your mind out of the gutter, although I know hot tempting it can be to go there. Although, I would not be surprised if Johnny boy has played out a few naughty scenarios with him and his "soulmate," frisky geezer that he is. Hell, he's probably got a threesome fantasy that include Cindy as well. No, I would not be suprised at all. I'd be digusted to point of tossing my cookies, but not surprised.

Anyhoo...There seems to be a shift in the attitudes of women regarding work. Instead of wanting more responsibility at work, they want more flexibility and control, especially GenXer's and Millennials. I know that's true for my wife, who's most recent position is a better balance, compared to her previous one, of responsibility and challenge with the ability to spend time with her family.

The article also touches on GenX and Millennials guys sharing this kind of attitude. I know that's true for me. While Colleen makes the big bucks my job is all about flexibility, and I like it that way.

Just more evidence of GenX's influence on the workplace. Most of are us not going to work oursleves to death, like Boomers have been want to do. And rightly so.

As Mr. Keating tells his students in Dead Poet's Society: "Business, Law, Engineering. These are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, love -- this are what we live life for." Something like that anyway, to which I would also include family and friends.

Some of you have shown interest in the 1989 film Dead Poets' Society as its themes include freedom, individuality and conformity. The film was very popular in its day and it starred Robin Williams as a charismatic English teacher who introduces his students to poetry with devastating effect.

The main events in the narrative of this film deal with either deviation from what is considered to be acceptable behaviour or the transgression of rules. The narrative disruption is caused by John Keating's arrival at the school; a chain of cause and effect which leads to the resolution where control is re-established. Through the re-establishment of control a political allegory is suggested. The story can be seen as symbolic of the ruthless way in which power is maintained, and opposition crushed, in society. You may also discuss the film in terms of how male power is reinforced and maintained and how those who deviate are punished.

Watch this and see if it doesn't make you more determined to create an extraordinary day...and life.

Once we Gen X'rs were old enough to start paying attention to what was going on economically, the nation had shaken its post-Vietnam malaise, ushered the Great Communicator into office and entered an era of robust growth and prosperity.  No one was going off to war, and almost no one was standing in a soup line.  We were double blessed.

So, for those of us coming of age in the 1980's, there was no shared enemy against which to rebel or crisis to endure.  While peace and prosperity are wonderful, they can create times that are historically uninteresting and artistically uninspired.  We were a generation of flint that lacked the steel to create a spark.  Then Hollywood stepped into the gap.   During the 80's we were treated to a series of movies that finally gave us the angst we so needed - The Outsiders, The Breakfast Club, St. Elmo's Fire, Pretty in Pink, and many others that were dedicated to the notion that even when we had peace, roofs over our head and plenty of food to eat - life was still just so darn hard.  Many of the movies featured a lower-middle class kid (kids driving used cars) striving to enter the world of the upper-middle class (kids driving new cars).  In some form or fashion, all the movies were about stuff and status - who had it, who didn't, and how kids from the separated classes could somehow meet and occasionally mate.  Each movie's protagonist seized the brass ring, overcame the hurdles and won the pretty girl through charm, wit or athleticism despite their lack of Izod shirts or a BMW.   Hollywood capitalized on the notion that all of us wanted to be Alex P. Keaton - brilliant, handsome and destined for greatness and wealth, and exploited the fact that most of us knew we fell short.

My closest friends and I made fun of those movies.  We were among that annoying set of kids in high school that thinks it is culturally above whatever everybody else likes - and in our case that included John Cuzak and Molly Ringwald.  Still, those movies act as a cultural bookmark for me.  When I sit on the couch, surfing channels during a lazy Saturday afternoon and land on a John Hughes movie, I tend to stay there long enough to watch a memorable scene or hear a quotable phrase.  Despite their nostalgic merit, I still chuckle at their manufactured angst. 

Finally, in 1989, a popular movie came along that my snobbish friends and I could get behind - Dead Poets Society.  Robin Williams (who we knew as the funny alien from the post-jump-the-shark Happy Days and its improbable spin off Mork & Mindy) played Professor Keating.  Keating was a prep school English teacher in 1959.  Among his rich (and angst-ridden) students were Robert Sean Leonard and Ethan Hawke.  Leonard played the part of Neil Perry, the son of a controlling, hard-hearted man who could never understand his son's artistic side and prohibited him from working on the school paper, acting or anything other than excelling in school and preparing for a life of high income.  Hawke played Todd Anderson, Perry's roommate and the under-performing younger brother of a former valedictorian.

The compelling component of the movie for me was Williams' character.  In his opening lecture, he has a student read a section of a textbook in which the author reduces poetry analysis to a mathematical formula.  Professor Keating then irreverently instructs his students to rip the essay our of their books, and the boys enjoy their first intoxicating taste of freedom.

In one of the most memorable and quoted scenes in the movie, he tells the boys "Carpe Diem boys. Seize the day.  Make your lives extraordinary!"  He marches the boys to a glass case that houses old pictures of students from the school.  "Worm meat" he says of the students in the photos.  He mimics their imaginary whisper - "Seize the day."  The implication in his teaching is that the anticipated pursuits of these New England blue bloods (personified by Neil Perry's cruel father) are vapid, fleeting and hollow.  Wealth is nothing, beauty is everything and life is enjoyed best when everything is risked.  It's a powerful idea, and of course by the end of the movie someone is dead.

The movie was released between my sophomore and junior years of college, and just before the next generation - Generation Y, the Millenials, the Echo Boomers, or whatever they want to be called (generally, those born between 1980 and 1994) - was old enough to start watching movies.  The theme played right into the growing sentiment among many of my peers that we didn't want to spend our lives toiling in an empty 9 to 5 job.  We wanted to be engaged in something significant and true, pure and noble, something extraordinary. 

I think of where we all are now.  Among us I count an engineer, a doctor, a couple of pastors, a lawyer, some IT professionals, and blah, blah it goes on.  Sooner or later we all had to earn, and  eventually we all did, some later than sooner and some more than others, but eventually we all did the expected things - college, career, marriage, kids.  Did we sell out or grow up?

In my high school we had our own version of Professor Keating (didn't we all?).  He pushed us to live outside of the world's expectations, to embrace beautiful things, and to live examined lives.  Like all Professor Keatings the world over, he had to deal with parents' objections to his book choices and the subversive thoughts with which he filled us for 50 minutes each day.  We students passionately rallied around him and he's still there today, veteran of a hundred culture wars.  He was our hero.

Despite my admiration for him, I recognized that he viewed me with suspicion.  I was a little too concrete, too eager to interpret poetry rather than enjoy it, and too pragmatic about life's demands.  I visited the school some 6 years after graduation while I was on a job interview in the city.  For most of the faculty I was a returning hero - a summa cum laude graduate of my college and current student at a top law school.  When "Mr. Keating" saw me he viewed my suit disapprovingly and asked if I had a fancy car in the parking lot.  I sensed his disappointment.  He thought I was a sellout, and I'm sure he's not alone.  I work as a lawyer in a downtown office, commute to the suburbs, drive an SUV and increased my carbon footprint with four children.  But for reasons I'll explain, I think he was wrong.

My reflections today are, in part, a reaction to the ethos I see developing among the generation that's followed us.  To them, work is evil unless it's fun.  As soon as it's not fun, they ditch it and move on to something else.  They want to work less, have more and play all day.  They are Professor Keating's progeny, and they view the rest of us as foolish sellouts.  If their Professor Keating made them read "1984", they might even refer to us as unenlightened proles.  I felt like that once, but I grew out of it by the time I was 21.  This group seems stuck there, and rest of our society is bending over backward to keep them happy.

I watch these kids driving around in their new Cooper Minis and riding their tricked-out bikes, heading to a lake house that someone else paid for early on a Thursday afternoon, and wondering why the rest of the world is stupid enough to work all day and drive home in a banged up car.  I watch them and think to myself, "who paid for all of their stuff?"   

Professor Keating wasn't the first to suggest that our our lives often fall short of their beautiful potential.   Plato reports that Socrates said "The unexamined life is not worth living"  (one of the many quotes that my personal Professor Keating had me memorize).  Jesus said that we were all slaves to our earthly desires, and urged us to "know the truth, and the truth will set you free."  It's not that I reject Professor Keating's exhortation, and certainly not Christ's, but I think the truth lies somewhere between Alex P. Keaton's relentless drive for success and the modern twenty-something's expectation that they need only pursue fun and the rest will take care of itself.

At the risk of sounding immodest, I do seize the day, or at least some days.  I look back over this year and think of the time I've taken with my family at the expense of billable hours, the time I've spent in prayer, study and meditation, teaching, playing the guitar, playing with my kids, loving my wife, relishing God's creation and serving others.   I believe that having a job and doing it well, at the occasional expense of personal desires, is a heroic thing.  I'm called to work, we all are.  I've laid down a part of my life to serve my family, benefit the community and  employ some of the talents that I've been given.  I think that working is significant, and I think that it is noble.  Pursuing a personal passion while your family starves, or expecting others who work hard to support your selfish pursuits, is not noble.  As a counterpoint, we can fail by allowing work to consume us and define us.  Once we stop appreciating beauty, and stop pursuing truth, we start dying a slow death of the soul. 

Neil Perry of the Dead Poets Society wasn't able to simultaneously pursue his passion as an actor and vocation as a student, so he killed himself.   When I was young and first watched the movie I saw him as a tragic hero.  With 20 years of additional perspective, I see only a tragic loss.  If he'd been more patient, more balanced and more loved, he would have had a lifetime in which to pursue his passions, and figure out whether he was talented enough to make a living at acting, or whether it would remain a passionate hobby.  He didn't seize the day, he surrendered it, and the world was a poorer place.  As this newest generation of workers experiences its first difficult days, I pray that they make wise choices and benefit from the perspective that deprivation can bring.

There are a lot of us creatives out there who feel somewhat miscast in our professions.   Most of us lack the talent to make a living at acting, writing, or other artistic pursuits, so we try to find a paying job that partially matches our interests, and we look for opportunities to engage in purely creative pursuits on our own time.  That's how the world goes around.  I just hope that the next generation figures that out before we much-maligned Boomers and Gen X'rs are too old to keep turning the wheels.  As for the Gen X'rs long-missing source of generational angst - like of Gen Y's maturity, it may be coming, just much delayed.

Robin Williams is nu niet meteen mijn favoriete acteur. Ik was dan ook blij dat hij niet al te veel in beeld kwam en dat het vooral om zijn leerlingen ging. In de rol van docent, laat hij de jongens kennismaken met vrije meningsuiting en geeft hij ze een liefde mee voor poëzie. Pas wanneer één van de jongens de hoofdrol speelt in een toneelstuk, tegen de wil van zijn ouders in, schiet de film goed in gang.

Het einde is ontroerend.

To put to rout all that was not life.

And not, when I came to die, discover that I had no lived.

from Dead Poets Society (1989)

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พงป่าที่ข้าเพียรแผ้วถาง

มิใช่เพื่อความมั่งคั่งในสินทรัพย์เงินทอง

หรือเพื่อเกียรติยศชื่อเสียงลือลั่นใดๆ

แต่ข้าเฝ้าแผ้วถาง เพื่อค้นหา และซืมลึกลงถึงแก่นแท้แห่งชีวิต

เพื่อการนั้นแล้ว ข้าจำต้องขจัดสิ้นสิ่งที่มิใช่แก่นแท้แห่งชีวิตตัวข้าให้หมดไป

และเมื่อใดที่กาลล่วงเลยผ่าน ถึงวันที่ร่างกายตัวข้าต้องดับสิ้นลง

ข้าจักไม่โศกเศร้าเสียใจ ถึงชีวิตที่ข้ามิเคยได้มีโอกาสใช้มันเลย

Kevin Beuret, my friend and mentor who taught me English in 1985 at the Howe Military School summer camp just accepted a job at Howe Military School proper at the age of 63. My hope is now that it will only take me 20+ years to prove myself as a good enough teacher that Howe might hire me at 63. I would be happy with that. The biblical patriarchs were much older than that before they did anything significant with their lives which were, up until then, filled with failure and stupidity (much like my own).

Long before there was a Dead Poets Society or Harry Potter books, there was a tale of a teacher returning to his alma mater where he would teach a group of students that most had written off. They were somewhat of a special ed class. Much like the "Double D's" (Dumb as dogs--t) group in the great teacher film Renaissance Man. This teacher was, himself, a part of this "lost cause" group and returned to be the father-figure and mentor they needed as much as he did. I hum the theme song to myself and daydream of a day I can do the same.

This song always chokes me up and makes me all misty eyed because it's everything teaching would be to me.

Just realized its been eight months since I last wrote here, or anywhere for that matter. I'm hoping the engine will start up again.

Eight months is a long time. In that period, I've finished another semester, been on a fully sponsored trip to Korea (yeah!), became a tourist in my own country for a couple of days, acted as OGL for USP freshies, met tons of new people, and generally had a hell lot of fun. I may be back from exchange, but at times it feels like I've never really let go of the attitude I had while I was in New York. I am so totally enjoying myself here in Singapore, with all my friends, doing what I deem important.

I guess it helps that I finally decided that I'm not going to step into the working world after I graduate. I'm working towards getting a place in a PhD program after I grad, and it's one of the reasons I feel so free and invigorated. My GMAT's coming up in less than a fortnight - hope I'll do well then.

In the meantime, I'll start writing again, hopefully forever ha. Just typing this post has made me happier somehow, even if nobody reads it. Such a therapeutic activity. If only running gave me the same high =)

Such a short update isn't it? Gotta leave stuff to write for other days too. In the meantime, anyone has any good films or drama serials to recommend? I'm hoping for stuff like Dead Poet's Society, League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, Groundhog day, musicals, Heroes, Hero, 300, Lord of the Rings etc. (Alright I just realized that became a rather useless list, but I'm just kinda listing what I've enjoyed watching)

Welcome back to my life. =)

Your Screenplay Sucks is the name of a new book by William M. Akers. Actually its whole title is, Your Screenplay Sucks! 100 Ways to Make It Great. (ISBN 978-1-932907-45-2 Go to www.yourscreenplaysucks.com.)

There are so many books out there on screenwriting these days it’s hard to tell the good ones from the bad. This is one of the good ones. William Akers walks you through so many common mistakes that all writers make, not just first timers. Akers book talks to the novice writer and the experienced one. He has information for people who want to make Hollywood films, and for Independents. In his book it all comes down to the same thing, having a good story and telling it well.

Here is one passage I found extremely interesting.

“You are asking upwards of $100,000 for said work. You’re asking someone to spend from $100,000 to $100,000,000 to produce something you just made up. You need to get this stuff right. You need scene description that sings. You need to have lively minor characters. You need to run your spellcheck. Like that. What I'm telling you is simple to execute. It has nothing to do with talent or mythic story structure or round characters. I'm not telling you “how to write a great script.” There are plenty of good books for that. What I am giving you are guidelines to make sure the reader keeps reading.

I once sat next to a producer on a plane and watched her read six pages and put a script down. That writer spent months and months on his script but, for some reason, blew his chance by page six. Probably for a long list of reasons”

In William Akers world it doesn’t matter what kind of a film you are writing and what you intend to do with it, you need to make it original and interesting.

Akers wants us to tell good stories, whether we sell them to Hollywood, or make them ourselves.

He understands the writing process because he is a writer. Akers has written and sold scripts, and he teaches writing and filmmaking at Vanderbilt University. He teaches the craft of writing every day. He knows what works, and what doesn’t. But the best part is that over they years William has seen people make the same mistakes over and over. He takes those common mistakes and he addresses them.

Among the 100 things in this book are:

You picked the wrong main character! We have no rooting interest in your hero! Your Bad Guy isn’t great! Your characters do stupid things to move the story forward, a.k.a., they do stuff because you make them! You don’t have enough tension! You haven’t cut the first or last lines from as many scenes as possible! You have Q & A dialogue! Too many of your characters have names! And, You haven't cut as many “thes” and “thats” as possible!

Akers doesn’t just point these out and tell you to do them; he goes in to great detail telling us why we need to make these changes. Then he spends time giving us examples of movies that have followed these rules. And he doesn’t use obscure foreign films or independent films that we’ve never heard of. He uses examples of movies we are all familiar with. He breaks it all down so that we can see why these writers did what they did and how it helped the story.

It is a known fact that in Hollywood, readers have to read entire scripts (they’re supposed to anyway), but producers and executives are looking for excuses to put your script down. If they can put it down before they finish it, then they don’t have to think about making it. I lived in LA long enough to know that no executive ever gets fired for saying “NO!” They get fired for saying yes. They say yes to a movie and it doesn’t do well at the box office, they’re fired. We all know the story of Verna Fields at Universal rejecting George Lucas’ script for Star Wars. And as the legend goes, she was promoted.

William offers insight in to the way readers, producers, and executives look at screenplays. He helps you avoid mistakes that would make these people put your scripts down without finishing them.

This book is am amazing resource for any writer and to top it all off, it’s funny! Akers has a great sense of humor. In addition to learning, I was laughing. He has an engaging writing style and although he takes his subject seriously, you can tell he doesn’t take himself seriously. He has fun with this book. He also reprints things from the web, certain scripts, and he recounts conversations with other writers and filmmakers. What were they thinking when they were working on something? What were the problems they encountered and how did they over come them?

Ultimately William gets you to think about the writing process, and he makes you take a hard look at anything that you’ve written and see what you could have done to improve it. I have written quite a few screenplays and made a few of them in to films, and I found myself learning new things with ever page turn, or being reminded of things I was taught so many years ago.

Akers wants to help you write something great from your title page to the end. He spends quite a few pages talking about titles, the very first thing people see when they read your screenplay.

“You haven’t spent enough time thinking up a fantastic title!

Is your title a good title or a stupid title? Does it give no hint about your story? Is it a title no one will understand and no one will care about? Is it so weird that it's going to be off-putting? Is it the main character’s name? Is it hard to pronounce or spell?

If you have a less-than-stellar title, change it.”

It is rare that I enjoy a book from cover to cover, let alone a book about writing. I blasted through this book and I’m keeping it next to my computer, the easier to look at when I am writing. I don’t want to give anyone else the opportunity to tell me “Your Screenplay Sucks!”

If you don’t believe me that this is a good book, maybe you’ll believe these people…

"A book about screenwriting that reads like a good screenplay. It is so full of great stories, examples and advice that I couldn't put it down." - - Tom Schulman, Academy Award winning Screenwriter:  Dead Poets Society, Honey I Shrunk The Kids, What About Bob?

If you want a pat-you-on-the-back, feel good book on writing, read Chicken Soup For The Writer’s Soul.  If you want the sucker-punch-you-in-your-throat, down and dirty truth about screenwriting for Hollywood, read Your Screenplay Sucks!. - - Linda McCullough, Columbia College Chicago

“Don’t take it personal, your screenplay does SUCK.  Almost all screenplays suck until you beat them into shape.  William M. Akers’s book is an excellent guide through the pitfalls and easy mistakes that first time screenwriters face.  His advice is honest and simple.  He will make your screenplay suck less... As long as you’re willing to do the work.” - - Larry Karaszewski, writer: Ed Wood, The People vs. Larry Flynt, Man On The Moon

You can order Your Screenplay Sucks! 100 Ways to Make It Great. (ISBN 978-1-932907-45-2) through Akers website, www.yourscreenplaysucks.com.

In my opinion, it’s a great fucking book!

Other stuff.

Internet Special!!!!

Go to www.angryfilmmaker.com and check out my films. Between now and August 1^st, 2008 if you order any 2 of my DVDs I will send you my Sound Work Book for free! If you want to know about the three types of microphones or what the most important element in Sound Design is then you need this book. It is crammed full of tips on Sound for films. Order any 2 DVDs and you get my knowledge and sound tips for free. Two DVDs will set you back $20 + $10 shipping and handling and for that you get the Sound Work Book (a $10 value) for free. Now that’s a deal!

And just a reminder, I am available to consult on your films.

What do you get out of the deal? You get the best value and advice in making your film. No matter what stage you’re in. I’ve been in the business for 25 years, working on everything from animation to live action, Independent features, Real Independent features, Hollywood studio stuff, and documentaries. If you check out my bio and filmography (www.angryfilmmaker.com/who.htm) you’ll see I’ve worked on award winning films, and films that never got distribution.

I will look at your work honestly and objectively. If there are problems, I’ll point them out, in a constructive way. No one wants to hear, “This sucks!” My goal is to guide you through the process, so that you can see what the problems are, and we’ll come up with ways to fix them. Check out (www.angryfilmmaker.com/consulting.htm.)

My Masters Class, Making the Extreme Low Budget Film has been re-scheduled for August 18^th thru September 5^th in Franklin, Indiana. Check out www.independentcinema.net for more information as it becomes available.

Oh and Your Angry Filmmaker tip?

Buy William Akers book, Your Screenplay Sucks! Trust me, it’s worth it.

As always,

Talk later,

Kelley

www.angryfilmmaker.com
www.myspace.com/theangryfilmmaker
www.youtube.com/theangryfilmmaker

]]> http://chakijian.wordpress.com/?p=23 Fri, 18 Jul 2008 20:13:05 +0000 chakijian http://chakijian.de.wordpress.com/2008/07/18/carpe-diem/ Yup, every once in a while, I seem to be able to post something here. I deliberately don't post when I am too emotional, because, as a matter of fact, I write and talk far too much when I am emotional and I don't want my very soul to be available in the internet because of one moment of weakness or emotionality. Emotional stuff goes either to my friends or, which is more likely because I don't want others to know about certain things, to my diary or my pillow via tears.

Since I was quite emotional the past few months, I didn't have time nor motivation nor anything to write in here. I wanted to write a new entry several times already, but every time I either forgot or was suddenly distracted by other things. I also "just" (that is, last Sunday) returned from my 11-days holidays in Bulgaria, which were quite hot and had (considerably) lots of alcohol, but a lot of relaxation and fun, too. It's kind of frustrating and demotivating to return to Germany and have weather such as this, after 11 days of temperatures up to 40 or 50°C; nothing compared to this *points out of the window*

My creativity seems to have gone on holidays, too. As a matter of fact, I haven't produced anything literary - anything actually worth being called "literature" - recently. For a short while, I was very creative and started to write quite a lot about my main DSA roleplay character Chakijian's past, which was quite funny, but I'm even stuck there. I hate such blocks. Even though I feel I need to write something, desperately, I somehow can't. In addition to that, I don't have anything to write concerning MZI or anything else with my characters there (Auden, Azazel, Adara, anything will do as long as I can write). What I'm saying: I do have some open things I'd really like to continue (Auden and Dimura first of all, then Auden and Irask, Azazel and Keir, and, of course, the "current" thing - Auden and Edward). Auden and Edward, now, that's really something worth writing and I'm having lots of fun with that. Auden, the unfeeling sadist, and Edward, a weird masochistic and sadistic Vampire who is some 900 years older, but much weaker than Auden. With Edward's humour and "not taking anyone serious"-attitude and especially the way he is attracted to Auden, and with Auden being far too serious and strict and unfeeling - both are great. I was really glad when I finally saw Phantom online and was able to ask her to RP with me, and she did, first the Auden-Zero scene, then the two Auden-Edward scenes. However, she hasn't replied to my last post since Monday and I'm kind of desperate because I don't have anything to write anymore. 'Cause nobody replies to my posts, in any scene. And Bertina's on holiday, too. *dramatic sigh*

Anyway. I watched a movie with my sister today, one of my top favourites - "Dead Poets Society", one of the best and most touching movies I've ever seen, one that has influenced me a lot and made me feel a little better after watching it. Of course, I had to cry again, but never mind that, it's always worth it. I remember watching it for the very first time: it was at school, in Geography-bilingual, back then when we used to watch movies in Geography that didn't have anything to do with Geography... And what kind of movie was that! I'm really glad that our teacher showed it to us. He was quite a cool teacher, anyway. Watching the movie today, I had little flashbacks of first watching it - I remember very well where I sat when we watched it in class, it was near the door, and I know very well that in one scene (after the boys got to know of Neil's suicide and Todd's running in the white, cold snow, crying and shouting in anger and despair) I really had to pull myself together in order not to cry in class. What a moment. I still recall it vividly.

But what's said in the movie... what Keating teaches the boys, what he tells Neil, what he makes them realize - it's the truth, plain and simple. If you just open your eyes and have a look around you. If you just realize what little you got and how much you're wasting on things you don't want to waste it on. If you write a poem, or a story, anything literary, or if you read one, you understand exactly what he's trying to say there. And, mind you, that's something very precious, this realization of life itself.

Bookstores are poison to me - or not to me; to me, they are pure joy. To my money, however, they are pure poison. I went to the Mayersche today willing to buy two books I wanted to have dearly - "Fear Itself" by Jonathan Nasaw (God, I love his way of writing! And those amazing psychopaths in his novels!), and "Equal Rites" by Terry Pratchett.

...

To put it bluntly: I left the bookstore having spent twice the amount of money I wanted to spend. For me, it's very difficult to put away a book once I got it in my hand, and if it's a book I wanted to have for sooo long, it's like... impossible to make me put it away again. Or let's put it this way: it's not impossible if someone's with me, someone who may well say, "Okay, Samy, you've had enough, now put away this book, yes, there's a good girl, and now come with me..." But alone? Forget it. Not a single chance.

Other than that, I'm currently enjoying the "Death Note" volumes. RYUK! L! God, they're so amazing! I mean - Ryuk! Ryuk just got my humour, and he's in many ways very similiar to my character Azazel. And L - well. I don't have anything to say about L, do I? L's a freak. Really. A cute freak. A cute, intelligent and purrrrrfect freak. Nothing to complain about there, right? ... Okay. Light's getting on my nerves quite a lot. All the time, to be honest. But as long as there are Ryuk and L, everything's fine.

By the way: anyone out there who wants to buy me a PS2? *smile*

A little about Wille: She received her MA in English from Radford University in Radford, VA, where she now serves as a member of adjunct faculty.  Her poetry, a study in the ironies of life, has appeared in a number of literary magazines, including EXIT-109, ALCA-lines, SONGS OF LAMENT, and most recently, the latest edition of RAVING DOVE.  She also writes short fiction and is currently working on her second novel.

Thanks for coming, Wille, and I'll let you take over!

During a recent discussion of the merits of poetry, someone suggested that writing poetry was a dead art.  Dead?  Maybe.  For some reason, most readers and, for that matter, most literary agents associate poetry with stuffy rooms filled with eggheads.  You know, those tweed-coated, horn-rim glasses wearing types.  Poetry, the original fiction, has taken a backseat to the novel and been relegated to the halls of academia where learned men and women spend their days spouting profundities.  By modern standards, the poets of the past would surely have to maintain their day jobs in order to pay the bills or eat.  Poetry, my friends, has a bad rep.

Interested in what other guest bloggers have to say? Check out Arachne Jericho's lessons on writing serial fiction.

In Japan, autumn is said to be the time for reading. Of course it can be done year-round, but for me, books and stories called most insistently when the world warmed up in spring, and when the spring unfurled into glorious summer. Naturally, there was the pragmatic reason: kids are burdened with school for most of the year, and it's summer that offers the freedom to read unchecked, unhindered by that travesty that is organized education. In Japan, to describe hot, perfect summer weather, I still use the phrase bunshou no tenki -- "writing weather" -- which, yes, raises some eyebrows, since most people see no correlation between sweating profusely and a celebration of the arts. Sigh.

But as a kid, warmer and longer days meant that it was time for me to grab a book and go outdoors. Out in the shade of trees, out in that immemorial green light, was the truest and best place to escape into the worlds of stories. I can recall reading The Martian Chronicles in the open doorway of the barn's hayloft, my bare feet swinging in space. I read Avram Davidson's The Kar-Chee Reign and Rogue Dragon (a "double-feature" book that flipped in the middle, one novel beginning from each end) sitting cross-legged atop a barrel on the grounds of our local historical museum, where my mom was ever active. I read some of the post-Jaws rogue animal books there, too, on the steps of the courthouse where Lincoln himself once practiced law.

I had a "reading grove" in the northwest corner of our front yard (where my dog Hooper was later buried). I would sit there on a folding chair with my feet propped in the fork of a young oak, reading Stephen R. Donaldson's The Chronicles of Thomas Covenant. In the same spot, using a lapboard, yellow legal pads, and a soft mechanical pencil, I wrote a great deal of The Threshold of Twilight, my first full-length novel manuscript.

Ooh, check out this picture! This is in the backyard of my house in Illinois: the gate from a long-gone corral, leaned against young maples in years gone by, half-swallowed by the growing trunks. This tendency of nature to reclaim human artifacts has always fascinated and thrilled me. I was thinking of such things in college when I wrote the lines, from "Urban Requiem":

"In the rainy end of days the satyrs

Came and rolled on spools the broken wires,

Rekindled the old infernal fires,

And scooped clean soil over oily matters."

But I digress. I read a whole lot of Lovecraft in various places in the yards. I read most of Stephen King's It on the banks of our pond and on the back porch. I read on shed roofs, in trees, on the hoods and trunks of cars, in the tire swing, atop the root cellar, and everywhere in between. When darkness forced me indoors, yes, I read there, too.

When darkness fell, though, sometimes I'd wander back outdoors, not reading now, but marveling at this wonder that was summer. As a teenager, I was quite taken with celebrating Midsummer's Eve. It's a big deal in Tolkien's works, and I think those are what introduced me to the concept. "Elvish singing is not a thing to miss, in June under the stars. . . ." Pretty much all folkloric sources agree that it's probably the most favorable time of year for encounters with the Good Folk. The question arises, though, as to when exactly Midsummer's Eve is. Some say it's the night before the solstice -- June 20. Some prefer the night of the solstice -- June 21. Some Christians choose to go with June 24, the eve of the celebration of John the Baptist's birth. I say that whole week is fair game. Go with whatever night it isn't raining.

Yes, I haunted the yard on Midsummer's Eve. I'd take along a lantern -- an oil-burning lantern, not just a mere flashlight, though I usually had one of those, too; I'd take a wooden staff I'd found in the woods, a fallen tree branch that I'd sanded and varnished. I'd take a copy of Dunsany's The Book of Wonder and another book, the front cover long gone, so I don't even know the title; but it was a collection of stories and poems about fairies. And I'd take stationery and a pen.

I'd wander along the hedgerows, run my fingers over the oak bark, gaze up into the trembling firmament of leaves and stars; I'd raise my lamp and stoop beside the knothole among the roots of the two-hundred-year-old oak, which seemed indeed a likely place for wee magical folk to live. I'd sit on the picnic table and read from the books. Then I'd write myself a Midsummer's Eve letter, describing the sights, sounds, feels, smells -- the whole of the night, as best I could; and I'd tuck the paper into an envelope, to be kept with the books and read again on the next Midsummer's Eve, along with the other letters from previous years.

After coming to Japan, for three or four years I dragged a group of good-natured friends along and combined this letter-writing custom with the practice of reading poetry aloud, a la the movie Dead Poets Society. But that's moving on into another set of stories.

Finally, I should add that summer goes on for a long time: there's no need to confine the celebration to one week in June. July brings what I call the "Deep Summer," and August brings the grand Dog Days. It's the best of all seasons, and we shouldn't miss a moment of it. Garrison Keillor advises, too, that we should make the absolute most of it: "Don't try to sleep in the summer. You can sleep in the winter." I remember a particularly nice June Eve, the last night of May, when I celebrated by watching Field of Dreams with my dad. If you're blessed to still have your dad with you on this side of Eternity, that's a really good movie to watch with him.

So, the discussion questions are two:

1. Does anyone care to tell us what is your best/favorite place to read in, either now and/or when you were a child? (It doesn't have to be outdoors. Indoor reading is also condoned and encouraged.)

2. If summer nights are magical for you, what's a way you've found to capture and enjoy that magic? What do you do (assuming it's fit to print) to enjoy a night in summer to its fullest?

Distributie: Robin Williams, Ethan Hawke, Josh Charles

Premii: Oscar pentru cel mai bun scenariu, BAFTA pentru cel mai bun film, nominalizat la Oscar pentru cel mai bun actor in rol principal, cea mai buna regie si cel mai bun film

Nota: 8.0

Pe scurt: Filmul surprinde un semestru din viata unor baieti din prestigiosul liceu Weldon Academy unde mai presus de toate domnesc regulile si conformismul unor metode care dau roade de multe generatii. As putea spune ca este o poveste a pubertatii, a celui mai important moment din viata unui om, acela cand deciziile luate ii formeaza caracterul.

Filmul este o afirmatie a non-conformismului si a gandirii libere manifestate prin caracterul profesorului Keating a carui deviza "Carpe Diem" trezeste spiritul in fiecare dintre elevi. Keating nu trebuie vazut ca o razvratire impotriva regulilor, ci ca un reprezentant al noii generatii.

Intr-adevar firul epic nu prezinta intr-un mod pur fantezist ideea de a-ti trai viata in sensul ca toti ar trebui sa luam decizii numai cu sufletul si deloc gandite, ci reuseste sa surprinda cele 2 extreme. Mie mi-a indus existenta unui echilibru intre curajul de a aplica idei noi si regulile existente (dar poate asa sunt eu, un moderat).

"Oh Captain! My Captain!"

Iata mai jos una dintre scenele care m-au impresionat, o scena din finalul filmului de unde reiese ceea ce profesorul Keating a reusit sa starneasca in acesti copii (oricum trebuie sa vedeti tot filmul pentru a putea intelege total semnificatia scenei).

Probabil este primul rol ce poate fi considerat o rampa de lansare pentru Robin Williams, el fiind rasplatit pe merit cu o nominalizare la Oscar pentru cel mai bun actor in rol principal (va lua Oscarul pentru un alt rol magistral in Good Will Hunting 9 ani mai tarziu). Intotdeauna am trait cu senzatia ca lui Wiliiams i se potrivesc roluri ce imbina tragicul si comicul (Mrs Doubtfire, Jack, Bicentennial Man, What Dreams May Come, Good Will Hunting).

Radu D.

One day I was in an engineering lab after class. They had a small 7' television set. It was connected to a long wire antenna on the building roof. I began to play with the television. At that time both Birmingham and Atlanta had three television stations and each were approximately 100 miles from Auburn. I was able to receive a faint signal, not strong enough to see a clear picture but strong enough to know that the signal could be received in Auburn.

I began to believe that if a proper antenna was used I should be able to receive the TV programs. Over the next several months I saved my money I purchased a 10" TV in Birmingham. Over a period of several weeks I obtained aluminum close line wire and some 1" x 2" wood to build antennas. I constructed two cubical quad antennas, one for the low band (channels 2-6) a one for the high band (channels 7-13). A cubical quad has a rectangular configuration and it is set on edge. I mounted these antennas on a mast and pointed it toward Atlanta. Much to my delight I did receive a signal. Sometimes the signal was strong enough to view the program. This was the first real TV reception in Auburn.

I continued to receive TV on occasions and when the signal was strong I would place the TV in the boardinghouse window and students passing by could see it.

During my senior year I was asked by a Fraternity to build them a set of antennas for a TV that they intended to buy. I then built three yaga antennas for them. These yagi antennas had more gain the my antennas and the Fraternity received a fairly good signal.

During this senior year I wrote a paper entitled, "Will Television Come to Auburn?" In this paper I proposed that a set of high gain antennas be placed on the Auburn water tank which was the tallest structure in town. At this height there should a be able to receive a good television picture. The signal would then be amplified and retransmitted to the local Auburn area. I received a "A" on this paper. This concept was actually implemented in rural areas several years later.

Dead Poets Society (br: Sociedade dos poetas mortos — pt: O clube dos poetas mortos) é um filme estadunidense de 1989, do gênero drama, dirigido por Peter Weir.

Conta a história de um professor de literatura nada ortodoxo, de nome John Keating, em uma escola preparatória para jovens, a Academia Welton, na qual predominavam valores tradicionais e conservadores. Esses valores traduziam-se em quatro grandes pilares: tradição, honra, disciplina e excelência.

Com o seu talento e sabedoria, Keating inspira os seus alunos a perseguir as suas paixões individuais e tornar as suas vidas extraordinárias.

O filme mostra também que em certa altura da vida, as pessoas, em especial os jovens, devem opor-se, contestar, gritar e sobretudo ser "livres pensadores", e não deixar que ninguém condicione a sua maneira de pensar, mas também ensina esses mesmos jovens a usarem o bom-senso.

A Sociedade dos Poetas Mortos é formada por Todd A Anderson, Neil Perry, Steven K C Meeks Jr., Charlie Dalton, Knox T Overstreet, Richard S. Cameron e Gerard J Pitts.

Repleta de citações de grandes nomes da literatura de língua inglesa, como Henry David Thoreau, Walt Whitman e Byron, e de belas imagens metafóricas, Sociedade dos poetas mortos deixa uma profunda mensagem de vida sintetizada na expressão latina Carpe diem ("aproveite o dia"), cujo sentido é: aproveite, goze a vida, ela dura pouco, é muito breve.

No entanto, ainda que tentando seguir a máxima latina de Carpe Diem, uma tragédia acaba por se abater sobre todos eles. Metaforicamente, um dos personagens principais, Neill Perry, é constantemente condicionado de fazer o que deseja da sua vida (representar numa peça de teatro ou escrever num jornal, por exemplo) devido aos projectos que o seu pai tem para ele. Perto do fim do filme, Neill fica de tal forma desesperado por isto que comete o suicidio. Isto tem um significado simbólico: "A vida é curta" e Neill não a pôde aproveitar uma vez que não dissera ao seu pai como se sentia, apesar de ter tido oportunidades para isso. isto entende-se quando, após a morte de Neill, John Keating lê um extracto de um texto que exprimia o significado de "Carpe Diem" e começa a chorar.

• Robin Williams .... John Keating
• Ethan Hawke .... Todd A Anderson
• Robert Sean Leonard .... Neil Perry
• Allelon Ruggiero .... Steven K C Meeks Jr.
• Gale Hansen .... Charlie Dalton ('Nuwanda")
• Josh Charles .... Knox T Overstreet
• Dylan Kussman .... Richard S Cameron
• James Waterston .... Gerard J Pitts
• Norman Lloyd .... Sr. Nolan
• Kurtwood Smith .... Sr. Perry
• Carla Belver .... Sra. Perry
• Leon Pownall .... McAllister
• George Martin .... Dr. Hager
• Matt Carey .... Hopkins

Oscar 1990 (EUA)

• Venceu na categoria de Melhor Roteiro Original.
• Recebeu indicação nas categorias de Melhor Filme, Melhor Diretor e Melhor Ator (Robin Williams).

Globo de Ouro 1990 (EUA)

• Recebeu quatro indicações nas categorias de Melhor Filme - Drama, Melhor Diretor, Melhor Ator - Drama (Robin Williams) e Melhor Roteiro.

Prêmio César 1991 (França)

• Venceu na categoria de Melhor Filme Estrangeiro.

BAFTA 1990 (Reino Unido)

• Venceu na categoria de Melhor Filme e Melhor Trilha Sonora.
• Indicado nas categorias de Melhor Ator (Robin Williams), Melhor Diretor, Melhor Edição e Melhor Roteiro Original.

Prêmio David di Donatello 1990 (Itália)

• Venceu na categoria de Melhor Filme Estrangeiro.

Sindacato Nazionale Giornalisti Cinematografici Italiani 1990 (Itália)

• Venceu na categoria de Melhor Diretor de Filme Estrangeiro.

Political Film Society 1990 (EUA)

• Recebeu o prêmio Democracia.

Writers Guild of America 1990 (EUA)

• Venceu na categoria de Melhor Roteiro Escrito Diretamente para Cinema.

• O diretor Peter Weir resolveu rodar o filme em sua ordem cronológica, para melhor capturar o desenvolvimento do relacionamento entre os jovens e o crescente respeito deles pelo "professor Keating".
• O filme foi realizado numa escola privada no Delaware.
• Dustin Hoffman quis interpretar o personagem "John Keating".
• Os uniformes e a disciplina da escola do filme são inspirados na escola para meninos em que o diretor Peter Weir estudou na Austrália.

All are saying that life is meant to be vibrant and fully lived, and we have only the certainty of the present moment to do it. I agree, yet I often find carpe diem troubling. I celebrate the idea of living fully each day with acute awareness and gratitude as if it were my last, as Ecclesiastes urges. In fact it encapsules the life lesson I am trying to master: "recognizing the present duty in the present moment." More often, though, poets, philosophers, rebels and most of us in our teens and twenties invoke it as a license to do whatever we want, no matter how selfish, excessive or destructive, and do it defiantly. In "Dead Poet's Society," it was a rallying cry to wake up to life and resist those still asleep who would pressure us to conform. This is heady stuff, even needed stuff at times . . . but as the film soon reveals, it is a charge vulnerable to inspiring choices that can tragically curtail time and invite death. Having personally seen too much tragic waste of young lives in the pursuit of being "merry" carpe diem has come to feel like the equivalent of telling my kids to play in the street.

Two recent films have reminded me that carpe diem is essentially neutral, and it can look very different than a heedless pursuit of pleasure. The mandate is to live today fully and know it. It doesn't say how, but insists the how matters. Nothing brings that more into focus than unexpected tragedy or a near miss with death. Each of us must decide how we will live our moments, both in action--ignore it, embrace it or resist it--and in attitude--apathy, anger or appreciating how precious it is. 

"Things We Lost in the Fire" portrays a family and best friend's wrenching struggle to come to terms with unexpected loss and urges us to learn to "Accept the good." Life at its darkest still has grace-notes of love, compassion, humanity and laughter, and if we will receive them--when we can again receive them--they can bring healing. As a whole, the film had the makings to be more powerful than it was in execution, but it was deeply perceptive about how human beings often react when in searing pain. When we most desperately need help we are often the least willing and/or able to receive it. Benicio del Toro gives a subtle performance ranging from quiet despair to exquisite sweetness as he learns to believe that he, too, deserves to "accept the good" and inhabit the present moment as a gift.

But it is the HBO movie "My House in Umbria" in its complex simplicity that illustrates the power in "Fire"'s mantra, "Receive the good," and Herrick's recycled "Gather ye rosebuds." I don't think I've ever been so inarticulate about a movie. The sum of the individual parts should not so excel them. Rarely is the storyteller's "Show not tell" followed so scrupulously to such revealing effect. How can a movie so absent in dramatic moments or commanding emotions be so unforgettably wise? It is the story of four people who survive an explosion in their train compartment.

As the survivors gather at the title house of Maggie Smith's Emily Delahunty in order to heal and remain accessible to the police investigating the explosion, each of these complex, flawed, grieving people is presented with the challenge of not only receiving the good, but choosing it. The central question the film asks from multiple perspectives is whether choosing the good is simply an escape, or worse, a denial of the way things really are: we are each capable of pettiness, foolishness, and despicable acts, and life can be capriciously, devastatingly inexplicable. Or might it simply be an act of survival, possibly even courage? Might it be the better portion?

As seen through the eyes of romance novelist Delahunty the story unfolds. It is a strange journey. In turns one is ready to dismiss the narrator as an unreliable dreamer only to stop short at her frequent perception of uncomfortable realities. Her pathetic neediness and pretensions alternate with generosity and a rare gift for nurture. Maggie Smith is the master of all her character's colors, sometimes all at once, but quietly so. It is an amazing performance, not least for it's deceptive simplicity.

In the final scene Chris Cooper's character Riversmith sends Emily Delahunty a precious gift, but with no guarantees that any day, tomorrow or years from now, he might not insist upon the gift's return. She turns from her gardening and says," I doubt Mr. Riversmith will ever come back for [it]."

The General, her fellow survivor, warns, "He may come back next month."

"I may be dead in a month. The moon may crash into the earth. Who knows what dreadful things may happen. In this moment I am happy . . ."

"Carpe diem," the General replies. When Emily Delahunty admits she's never really understood what that means, he adds, " . . . Embrace the present; enjoy life while you've got the chance."

"Carpe diem. I'll remember that." She smiles as if she has swallowed all the happiness in life in a single gulp, the sweetness made all the more precious by a lifetime's tragedies and desperate lies. Without words Smith's glance says, "We have back what we thought never to have again. It is too rare a gift. I will not diminish it with what ifs. This is a moment of pure sunlight without any shadow. I will be only here. I will give it its full due. I choose love, holding nothing back, come what may."

So, carpe diem. This is our moment to choose. What will it be?

Other than that, I continue to avoid my work, even with two-three days of school left.  I foresee an all-nighter in my future.  I had a good reason, I promise! This reason was that I was listening to "Progressive Metal" so that I could share my findings with you good people.  Oh, who am I kidding...I can't possibly expect anyone to be reading this...only my second post. Whatever, I'm fine with talking to myself.  Back to the topic of Progressive Metal.  It is still metal, yet it sounds more technical and more instrumental.  Honestly, it sounds more planned out and analytical...its just more of everything!  I've only listened to several bands, but they are amaZing...capital Z.  Here's a little list, go ahead and check them out on Project Playlist(http://www.projectplaylist.com/), you won't regret it.  Emerson, Lake, & Palmer, Adagio, Atheist, Cynic, Candaria, and Agalloch.

Well I think its time I begin my midnight wandering.  Nighty night kids...on second thought that is an extremely innapropriate and nonsensical thing to say. Whatever, just go listen to some music.

Last second thought, watch "Dead Poets Society."  It's a beautiful, inspirational film with Robin Williams.  It basically coined the phrase, "Carpe Diem" (Seize the day).

Dulce Et Decorum Est

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of tired, outstripped Five-Nines that dropped behind.

Gas! GAS! Quick, boys! --- An ecstasy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And floundering like a man in fire or lime ---
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light,
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.

In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.

If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,---

My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.

-- Wilfred Owen

]]> http://mwrichardson.wordpress.com/?p=32 Wed, 14 May 2008 03:42:38 +0000 mwrichardson http://mwrichardson.de.wordpress.com/2008/05/14/my-favorite-movies/ I very much enjoyed Good Will Hunting. What I liked most about it was the portayal of raw, real life. While the language is a tad graphic, it's raw... real emotions are being expressed.  It's vulnerability at its best.

Awakenings hit some sensitive emotional nerves for me.  The compassion and sadness found in this scene surpasses anything that words can express, so I won't attempt it here.  Teaches a strong, vibrant lesson about empathy. 

I liked Dead Poet's Society because of the theme of Carpe Diem - taking advantage of every breath and making the most of life.  Being passionate about life - making life extraordinary.  Our world is far too guarded and jaded - this scene / movie teaches a great lesson in letting go and expressing the soul.