Category Archives: Fill-um

She’s Not Only Merely Dead

All the Wizard of Oz backstory you didn’t know you needed like a free 7/11 slushy on an even-raw-pizza-gets-cooked hot day.

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TfH’s 1-line reviews

Solo: I’d rather have watched a whole movie about Chewie freeing his enslaved wookie comrades, gently touching foreheads with them, joking freed wookie jokes with them, dancing freed wookie dances at freed wookie parties eating freed wookie electric blue antennaed hor’s oeuvres.

Tully: Our country’s so crap about families that when a whipfirecrackingbadasssssss lady has a surprise third baby, she is in such desperate need of care that her personality cleaves, like a car floor string cheese divided and knotted over onto itself in something like a salty, half-melty, lint-riddled hug.

The Americans series finale: Marriage is hard, but nationalist violence is harder.

The Mars Room: WHY ARE THERE SO MANY STORIES OUT ABOUT PARENTS LOSING THEIR KIDS ABOLISH ICE AND WAREHOUSE THEM ALL WITHOUT RIGHTS OR DIGNITY IN A MAX SEC PRISON IN THE CALIFORNIA DESERT PLEASE THANKS

Ursula Le Guin’s Hainish novels and stories (which include The Left Hand of Darkness and The Dispossessed): The strand of US ideology encapsulated loosely now as “Trumpism” is terrible, which we’ve known since always but especially since the Vietnam War, and which advancing technology may only reinforce if we don’t put the anthropologists and artists in charge.

 

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Loving Screams

You guys. Your favorite dada-surf blitz, “Rock Lobster,” RESCUED JOHN LENNON’S GENIUS. See, B-52s recorded it partially as a Yoko Ono tribute (all those animal sounds!). Lennon heard it in a club. Inspired by its similarity to his wife’s music, Lennon collaborated with her to make Double Fantasy, after five years of rock block. Satisfying narrative urgency, Ono screamed her part in “Rock Lobster” with the B-52s ten years later.

“Listening to the B-52’s, John said he realized that my time had come,” [Ono] told Songfacts. “So he could record an album by making me an equal partner and we won’t get flak like we used to up to then.”

Loving screams save culture.

And I adore Molly Ringwald’s loving scream about the impact of The Breakfast Club and other John Hughes movies she collaborated in creating. Racist! Honest! Realistic! Empowering in their honesty and realism! Wholly endorsing sexual assault! Still totally racist!

How are we meant to feel about art that we both love and oppose? What if we are in the unusual position of having helped create it? Erasing history is a dangerous road when it comes to art—change is essential, but so, too, is remembering the past, in all of its transgression and barbarism, so that we may properly gauge how far we have come, and also how far we still need to go.

How far we still need to go, Molly? Turns out it’s #EqualPayDay. And one wonders if she got paid as much as the dudes in that film. Or if Ono got paid as much as her husband to make Double Fantasy.

One doesn’t really wonder. One screams.

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I Believe Dylan Farrow

Dylan Farrow wrote another op ed, this time in the LA Times. Please read it.

Even bad reviews of this man’s movies are press. Get Wonder Wheel off of all screens. Delete all references to it. Cancel his production deals. Replace him with one of any number of visionary women directors whose talents have gone too long ignored.

Sever him from our collective consciousness.

As I said, rape culture is rapists making our culture.

Get Woody Allen out of our culture.

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My Review of The Martian

Science and American ingenuity win the day!

But. In the future, can’t we put the people of color IN SPACE and make the white people solve all the science on the ground?

Science fiction’s purpose, quantified:

68%: Imagining a better world*
15%: Boobs
5%: Guns
5%: Spaceships
7%: Boobs with guns on spaceships

Crunch the numbers, Hollywood. Put Donald Glover on it.

*Including dystopias, as the negative space of a better world we could build if we considered the consequences of our current shenanigans. Like putting only white people in space.

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May I Opine on The Muppets?

A few years back, a colorful committee convened to craft with care and concern a film designed to make a late 30s/early 40s parent cry 5 to 8 times.

That film was The Muppets.

But what if you want to enjoy some Muppets with some moppets without them seeing you cry?

Muppets Most Wanted. All the wackiness, none of the calculated nostalgia.

Contra nearly all published critics, I like the second reboot more than the first.

For the third, may I request that Disney feature the Electric Mayhem? And revive 60s San Francisco rock? A Big Brother and the Holding Company-style version of “Rainbow Connection”?

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