What is with TV station employees’ language skills? I cannot count the number of times this past week that a newsreader has used the phrase “as of yet” in the course of reading a news story. We know that “as of yet,” the name of the victim has not been released, when the road will reopen, or when the results of the election will be finalized. I'm not sure why this phrase has become so popular, but it seems to be accepted as Standard English because, I am assured, the language that people use is dynamic and I must be open to the fluidity of changes that originate with the people who use it.
Hence, I’ve given up the battle that requires people to send and invitees to receive an “invitation,” rather than an "invite." I’d dearly love to hear one person ask another, “Have you received your invitation?” rather than "Did you get an invite?"
The pesky fluidity of language simply assures me that the speaker (and, perhaps, the other conversant) has no idea that one, invitation, is a noun, and the other, invite, is a verb because it really don't matter to most speakers. And, of course, I know the answer to both questions is the same: “Not as of yet.”
Thursday, November 29, 2012
Tuesday, November 20, 2012
Lincoln
Daniel Day Lewis becomes President Lincoln, and Sally Fields is his beloved wife, Molly, in one of the best movies I’ve watched in 2012 – and there have been some fine films this year.
The actors absorb the audience into the story, making the audience participants in a bloody civil war the likes of which nearly tore the country apart permanently. Daniel Day Lew is low-key as Lincoln, allowing the scenes to unfold, especially when telling one of his endless repertoire of homey folk tales that help underscore a point. Many other actors would have oversold the story, losing the point of it in the telling, but Lewis lets the story speak to the issue at hand. Fields captures perfectly a flawed woman, one whose personal demons create a barrier between her and husband and children, as well as the attendees at White House functions. She, and Lincoln, have suffered grievous personal loss, but Lincoln is more able to accept the past, live in the present, and keep moving toward the future. It is amazing to see Lewis’s character age and become a victim of his time and circumstance during the course of the two-hour film.
What is interesting to me is that the audience was solely comprised of grey-haired seniors, the demographic that will understand the content of the film because we were taught the background important to the film. I clearly remember not just memorizing math “times tables,” but also great speeches throughout the course of America’s history, including the Gettysburg Address and the preamble to the Constitution. This film brings the history to life, but if the audience doesn’t already have a nodding acquaintance with that history, much of the content of the dialog, as well as the historical settings, will be lost.
This film develops the story visually, showing the gritty reality of a bloody civil war and saving the words for direct interaction between characters. The epic debate in Congress is raw, gritty, passionate, nothing like the carefully engineered press conferences that pass for political convictions these days. How much better it would be to allow politicians to “fight it out” on the floor of the Congress, rather than talking it to death on the couches of the late night entertainment shows. The scenes of the fighting underscore the urgency of Lincoln’s need to pass his important Amendment, to assure that all of the Negroes who fought and died for this country did not do so in vain. With the conviction of his belief, Lincoln goes to the people who can effect change and challenges them to do so with passionate conviction and persuasive rhetoric.
All in all, I like this movie; I really like this movie. Both Daniel Day Lewis and Sally Field should be nominated for Academy consideration, as well as the finished film. If we could teach American history, or speech and debate, with fine films such as Lincoln, our younger generation would understand the legacy of those who have come before them in a country that is committed to its principles and willing to fight to the death to defend them from enemies both domestic and foreign.
The actors absorb the audience into the story, making the audience participants in a bloody civil war the likes of which nearly tore the country apart permanently. Daniel Day Lew is low-key as Lincoln, allowing the scenes to unfold, especially when telling one of his endless repertoire of homey folk tales that help underscore a point. Many other actors would have oversold the story, losing the point of it in the telling, but Lewis lets the story speak to the issue at hand. Fields captures perfectly a flawed woman, one whose personal demons create a barrier between her and husband and children, as well as the attendees at White House functions. She, and Lincoln, have suffered grievous personal loss, but Lincoln is more able to accept the past, live in the present, and keep moving toward the future. It is amazing to see Lewis’s character age and become a victim of his time and circumstance during the course of the two-hour film.
What is interesting to me is that the audience was solely comprised of grey-haired seniors, the demographic that will understand the content of the film because we were taught the background important to the film. I clearly remember not just memorizing math “times tables,” but also great speeches throughout the course of America’s history, including the Gettysburg Address and the preamble to the Constitution. This film brings the history to life, but if the audience doesn’t already have a nodding acquaintance with that history, much of the content of the dialog, as well as the historical settings, will be lost.
This film develops the story visually, showing the gritty reality of a bloody civil war and saving the words for direct interaction between characters. The epic debate in Congress is raw, gritty, passionate, nothing like the carefully engineered press conferences that pass for political convictions these days. How much better it would be to allow politicians to “fight it out” on the floor of the Congress, rather than talking it to death on the couches of the late night entertainment shows. The scenes of the fighting underscore the urgency of Lincoln’s need to pass his important Amendment, to assure that all of the Negroes who fought and died for this country did not do so in vain. With the conviction of his belief, Lincoln goes to the people who can effect change and challenges them to do so with passionate conviction and persuasive rhetoric.
All in all, I like this movie; I really like this movie. Both Daniel Day Lewis and Sally Field should be nominated for Academy consideration, as well as the finished film. If we could teach American history, or speech and debate, with fine films such as Lincoln, our younger generation would understand the legacy of those who have come before them in a country that is committed to its principles and willing to fight to the death to defend them from enemies both domestic and foreign.
Monday, November 12, 2012
Duh!!
The headline asks, "Why do men like Petraeus cheat?", perhaps in an effort to entice readers to the story. The cheapest, fastest answer is "because men have a penis."
Second place goes to a photo array accompanying the story that shows the slightly overweight, much older wife of 37 years next to the much younger, much prettier, probably more sexually active and exciting, biographer.
May not be fair, but much of life isn't fair; however, the publicized efforts to go back in time to active duty military service to determine if somehow the General can be penalized retroactively is ridiculous. Obviously, no one knew if he was involved outside his marriage when he was on active duty, but everyone knew that General Eisenhower was banging a woman to whom he was not married during WWII, and he became President, with his wife standing by her man as his First Lady.
Accept Petraeus' apology for his bad judgment and for resigning his current position. Enough said and done in a far too public trial of what is at its heart a private matter between husband and wife.
Second place goes to a photo array accompanying the story that shows the slightly overweight, much older wife of 37 years next to the much younger, much prettier, probably more sexually active and exciting, biographer.
May not be fair, but much of life isn't fair; however, the publicized efforts to go back in time to active duty military service to determine if somehow the General can be penalized retroactively is ridiculous. Obviously, no one knew if he was involved outside his marriage when he was on active duty, but everyone knew that General Eisenhower was banging a woman to whom he was not married during WWII, and he became President, with his wife standing by her man as his First Lady.
Accept Petraeus' apology for his bad judgment and for resigning his current position. Enough said and done in a far too public trial of what is at its heart a private matter between husband and wife.
Monday, November 5, 2012
Flight Plan
Imagine that you are sitting in a film production meeting, having recently read a great script for a movie about an airline crash. Your mind imagines the actors, sees the scenes of the film unfold, and then comes a moment of inspiration: let’s spend the first 20 minutes on the plane crash (the hook), and the rest of the film can explore the issue of the captain’s alcoholism. The end result is a dynamic opening scenario that captures the audience’s attention, but a really long, sometimes tedious, last 90 minutes.
Don’t get me wrong: I enjoyed the movie, but there are holes that should have been anticipated to enhance the cohesion of the storyline, as well as the development of the characters. Denzel Washington is outstanding as the captain who saves the lives of the souls on board, but he’s even better as an alcoholic who uses cocaine to “come down” from the booze so he can fly the plane. Everyone knows he’s an alcoholic, but no one confronts him – no matter how many planes filled with however many souls he is called to captain, which I find hard to believe. If a flight crew member smells alcohol reeking off the captain assigned to fly the plane, s/he would say something as the risk is too great for disaster to follow. No one would continue to turn a deaf ear and/or a blind eye and risk their own life, much less the lives of all the passengers and other crew, to fly in a metal canister 32,000 feet in the sky with a drunk behind the wheel.
Sure, this captain flies better drunk that some pilots may fly sober, but sooner or later, the drunk behind the wheel of the car crashes, often surviving an accident that kills the people in the car s/he hits, and the same is true for the pilot of a plane – and the crew and passengers who go down with it.
There is a line in the film that should have come earlier: Don’t tell me how to lie to cover up my alcoholism; I already know how to do that. The line could have been a great set-up prior to the actual plane crash, and if it were inserted at the opening of the film in a scene that set the scene for what would follow after the plane crash, events that form the last hour of the film would have been more cohesive. The ending feels as if the filmmakers spent their budget on the opening, then had to figure out how to finish the film on the cheap. A tack-on, if you will.
Am I glad I saw the film? Yes, but … you know, “the but it could have been better” we sometimes tack onto the end of a review, which means I liked it once, but I would not see it again.
Don’t get me wrong: I enjoyed the movie, but there are holes that should have been anticipated to enhance the cohesion of the storyline, as well as the development of the characters. Denzel Washington is outstanding as the captain who saves the lives of the souls on board, but he’s even better as an alcoholic who uses cocaine to “come down” from the booze so he can fly the plane. Everyone knows he’s an alcoholic, but no one confronts him – no matter how many planes filled with however many souls he is called to captain, which I find hard to believe. If a flight crew member smells alcohol reeking off the captain assigned to fly the plane, s/he would say something as the risk is too great for disaster to follow. No one would continue to turn a deaf ear and/or a blind eye and risk their own life, much less the lives of all the passengers and other crew, to fly in a metal canister 32,000 feet in the sky with a drunk behind the wheel.
Sure, this captain flies better drunk that some pilots may fly sober, but sooner or later, the drunk behind the wheel of the car crashes, often surviving an accident that kills the people in the car s/he hits, and the same is true for the pilot of a plane – and the crew and passengers who go down with it.
There is a line in the film that should have come earlier: Don’t tell me how to lie to cover up my alcoholism; I already know how to do that. The line could have been a great set-up prior to the actual plane crash, and if it were inserted at the opening of the film in a scene that set the scene for what would follow after the plane crash, events that form the last hour of the film would have been more cohesive. The ending feels as if the filmmakers spent their budget on the opening, then had to figure out how to finish the film on the cheap. A tack-on, if you will.
Am I glad I saw the film? Yes, but … you know, “the but it could have been better” we sometimes tack onto the end of a review, which means I liked it once, but I would not see it again.
Thursday, November 1, 2012
James Patterson, Author
Patterson used to be a better writer, with tighter plots, less wandering and unnecessary verbiage, and an action-driven writing style that kept me hanging from beginning to end. When Patterson began partnering with co-writers, the books became longer, less focused, more rambling, and with absolutely no punch at the end, just sheer relief when the book finally ended. After Andrew Gross’s partnership with Patterson, I stopped buying Patterson’s publications because they were, in a word, boring, and read like a college creative writing class’s collaborative final exam effort hodge-podged together just to get a good grade for using all of the elements of fiction in one poorly-conceived and executed story. [I do, however, continue to purchase Gross’s novels as they are reminiscent of Patterson at his best and, in my opinion, are better.]
A picture is worth a thousand words, and best writing practices show, don’t tell; somewhere in the writing process of his past Patterson forgot that basic guideline, but NYPD Red is old-style Patterson at its best. His characters are well-crafted and allow the reader to develop them based on actions and dialog, rather than the author telling the reader the way the character is supposed to be through extensive, meaningless verbiage. If the readers aren't savvy enough to develop the storyline internally, they aren’t real readers, but page turners who should wait for the movie version.
NYPD Red is a good read that kept me engaged and charging my Kindle battery. After reading the tease for the new Alex Cross novel, I’m going to order that next as it has the same “sound” as Red: action-packed, tight characterization that shows, rather than tells, what’s important for the story.
A picture is worth a thousand words, and best writing practices show, don’t tell; somewhere in the writing process of his past Patterson forgot that basic guideline, but NYPD Red is old-style Patterson at its best. His characters are well-crafted and allow the reader to develop them based on actions and dialog, rather than the author telling the reader the way the character is supposed to be through extensive, meaningless verbiage. If the readers aren't savvy enough to develop the storyline internally, they aren’t real readers, but page turners who should wait for the movie version.
NYPD Red is a good read that kept me engaged and charging my Kindle battery. After reading the tease for the new Alex Cross novel, I’m going to order that next as it has the same “sound” as Red: action-packed, tight characterization that shows, rather than tells, what’s important for the story.
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