A random day....

There he goes, walking down the strip. With his mysterious eyes, hidden behind those vintage shades that were indeed stolen. Not from behind the counter, but from a friends house. Only because it was mysterious how it got there to begin with. But this adds to the mystique of him. All of him. His brown fedora covers his mysterious vintage eyes. All that can be seen is a slight smirk on his mouth, and with the sparse black facial hair that reveals a bit of his emotional expression on his face.

His gray sweater zip up, snugs loosely on his torso, and his side bag dangles along his hip, over his shoulders. A slight slouch in his posture today, gives away a notion of not to be bothered. He walks slowly, but with a purpose today. Passers by recognize his existence with a simple nod, but nothing more. He is on his own, and it shows today.

He gets down to the corner where he needs to make a decision. should he go left or should he go right? First decision of the day, he should take the safe road. Or should he start off the day on the wild side, and take the road less traveled just to go against the grain. Way to start off the day as a rebel. taking the road less traveled, he realizes that his stomach speaks to him. Begging him to feed the hunger. He gives in, and turns the other way.

He makes way towards the food. His body was right. The mere thought of eating made his belly growl like a lion about to pounce on his prey. Although not as savage as one may think, he settles for a couple of fish tacos. Not too much, not too little, it was the porridge that Goldie Lox chose.

He eats a little different today. One would say patient. Calmly maybe? But really, he is savoring the meal, as if it were his last. Each bite were given an equal 30 chews each, like it was taught all that time ago when he was younger. Unlike any other day, the meal was thoroughly enjoyed today. As he swallowed his last bite, he neatly placed his dirty napkin on his plate and made his way outside, simultaneously throwing his bag over his shoulder.

Off into the world once again to make yet another decision. Where to go next? What to do next? Does he decide to continue on his journey? Or decide to settle in his little world which has not a mere sense of decisiveness. He wanders on, lost in his thoughts, but appetite satisfied.

Clogged Mind

It seems that I cant spit anything out into the world these days. I'm stuck. I'm clogged with so many thoughts and ideas, that it can't be expressed. My container is full, and the opening can only put out so much, if anything at all. But my ideas are so big, so epic, that its getting clogged at the opening. Ideas clashing to come out. The more I think, the bigger my ideas get. The more they fight to get out. My priorities are blown, and I aspire too much. I need to start off slowly, one thing at a time, baby steps. My creative juices are spoiled, and I need rejuvenation. It seems to keep the creative juices flowing with sweetness and tartness, I need to have things fluid, like water. Fluidity builds up momentum, that gets things unstuck, washing away excess waste. One thing at a time. One idea, to come out at its fullest, so the next one can do the same. Keeping the momentum going, making it fluid, will ensure a clear path, a clear mind.

Things I've seen as of late....

"Black Dynamite"

Stylizaton is key to a throw back. From the shaky zoom of the camera, to the mismatch of the dubbing, this flick almost got by me. Stumbling as I usually do on the daily, a trailer of the cheesiest porportions totally grabbed my eye, and actually forced me to do some research on the subject. Its a real movie? Think of the ideal, kick ass, pimpest afro black brotha, who knows kung fu and can chuck better than Master Lee. Waaaaataaaaa!!! Blaxploitation is back, and blacker than ever. DYNA-MITE! DYNA-MITE!!

Perspiring dance floor...

As I thought,the night heading towards a good end, it seemed to just to start. Across the bay, where the streets sleep for only a couple hours, the late evening turned from "go saints!" "time out!", to a mighty fist pump night of shuffling my toes across the wet wooden dance floor. The place where we "ended up" was packed only with a few people still messed up from 2 nights ago. Them sitting on the plastic chairs outside near the black deer watching the crowd from the corner of the patio next to the water fall. People with their bad habits of inhaling the cancer in their lungs made me a bit jealous, as I miss that sensation. The night was sweaty, as the cool breeze from the nearby freeway blew against my face. but as the night slowly turned to an early morning, Patrons remarkably kept flooding onto the dance floor, making the dance floor perspire with the beverages of the crowd above. My legs almost give out, as i forget to always do a yoga stretch before i move to the beat. With the satisfaction of the relaxing the muscles of my thighs, I jump back onto the battlefield, where it seems the bass is trying to pound out of my chest. I look at all my mates out on the floor with me, afraid of their intentions. Is that girl really a guy? or is this guy trying to dance with me. I turn, get my groove on, and try not to make eye contact to add to the confusion. I hear the 10 minute call from my ride back to the other side of the bay. Apparently a night always has to come to an end, and remembered in the back of my cloudy mind. Cloudy, but clear in thought of it actually happened. a night remembered as the Aquarius starts the new year, a happy chip toothed camper, with "long hair, don't care" attitude that wont seem to change anytime soon. But is that a bad thing? I guess I can leave that up to ones perspective....

The one that inspired.....

A blast from the past. I just want to recognize Mr. Spike Jonez for making such a great video over 15 years ago. This video inspired me the pick up a camera, and put together a sequence, whether it makes sense or not. Its short, its sweet, its a classic, its SABOTAAAAAAAGE!!!

Stuff I've watched as of late......

INFESTATION-

It sounds like the cheese of what is a predictable story line, and it is. But I seem to be a very forgiving person when it comes to movies. Sometimes the plot is not as important as one would think. Its how the plot is performed.

Chris Marquette, plays a "slacker", who wakes up and discovers the world is being overrun by huge ass insects. His clever dialogue seemed so natural. And thats what really appealed to me, was not so much the story, but the conversations in between the action.

A movie can have a great story behind it, but the dialogue can sound totally scripted. Complete shite! The more natural, the more I can relate to it. Cooper, Chris's role, reminds me of...me in a way, and how he explains how wished for this incident to happen, "...this whole end of the world thing...in the end he wished he had a girl, a dog, and a muscle car....settling down in a cabin in the mountains, trying their best to re-populate the planet... rustling up their spiky haired, children, telling stories of the before times..." I can relate to this, because I have the same mentality on dorky shite like that....Kinda funny.

The effects were not to be "WoWed" about, but it was ok. Aside from the clever dialogue, It seemed to touch bases emotionally within the characters as well. Not everyone makes it, of course, some lose their mind, and the once slacker becomes the hero. blah blah blah...

For me, I thought it was worth the download, haha! It was quite enjoyable. It made me realize that a movie has a lot of pot holes in the road. The dialogue fills them up for a smooth ride. (wow, this was pretty long)

And here are a couple short reviews:

CRANK 2: HIGH VOLTAGE-

Much like the first, the movie was non stop. It had lot action, gruesome comedy, wicked gun fights, and mmmmmmmm Amy Smart. The fast paced editing made it seem like the movie was alive in a way.
GI JOE: THE RISE OF COBRA-

What more can you really expect from a movie based on a cartoon? Not much. The movie was pretty. Big explosions, beautiful actors, and cheesy one liners. And a lot like the toon, the dopest character is always my ninja, Snake eyes!

BEHIND THE MASK:THE RISE OF LESLIE VERNON-

This was a pretty sweet indie horror flick. Comedy/slasher/documentary. I like the twist, and how casual it can be to talk about stalking a teenager, and butchering her friends.
LESBIAN VAMPIRE KILLERS-

The title says it all. It had its moments. Boobs. Girls kissing girls... Word!

Hor-ry cow?

What can I say, the undead have risen and started to dance.

DRAG ME TO HELL- review, old.

Horror, at its best done by the best. Sam Raimi got “tangled in a web” for close to a decade, making the Spiderman series. Although decent films, they lack a certain ingredient that flows deep within Raimi’s veins. The rush of being scared and the comfort of laughter are tough to pull off at the same time. Sam Raimi revisits the genre that made him one of the biggest names in feature films today, horror with an unexpected splash of slapstick comedy.

Subjectively speaking, I have a deep admiration of the works done by Raimi. Watching his films and seeing him progress as a filmmaker over the years; I can say that he has been a major inspiration in my filmmaking to this date. From making a secluded cabin in the woods an ultimate nightmare for any nature junkie in Evil Dead, to his box office smash of Spidey’s web slinging, Raimi’s style always seems to leave a glimmer in my eye with admiration.

Drag Me to Hell pretty much had all the elements to a Sam Raimi flick. He capture’s the audience from beginning to end. Raimi’s trade marked use of obscure angles and fast zoom action kept me on the edge of my seat throughout the 90 minutes in the theatre. Same with sound, at one moment the scene would be completely silent, slowly torturing the viewer with anticipation. Then an unexpected roar nearly gave myself heart failure at age 28. While simultaneously making me jump like a little girl in my seat, he adds wacky comedic gags mixed in with the suspenseful sequences, similar to the Three Stooges stunts which fuels Raimi’s twisted humor in his films. I never thought an attractive girl being gummed and slobbered all over by a crazed gypsy, or a mere nose bleed all over a bank manager would make me laugh so hard in my life. Although the dialog may have been cheesy at times, the acting from the cast made up for it in the long run.

I see Drag Me to Hell as a reincarnation of Sam Raimi’s roots of horror. A rekindled flame that I thought burnt out while “web slinging” the past few years. He still has the talent to make a good solid flick in general. With his signature cameo of his 1977 yellow Oldsmobile, dubbed “the classic”, which is in almost every Sam Raimi picture, one element is missing from this film.


A mere cameo of Bruce Campbell would have made this film completely complete, which is surprising that he wasn’t in this one. (Maybe in the background somewhere I missed) It’s no Raimi flick without Campbell. In honor of the Evil Dead trilogy, I give this flick a solid 4 blood stained chainsaws out of 5.

Watch it for a good scare and laugh.

Wowzer!

Opportunity Knocks....

It can come unexpectedly. A documentary on Hawaiian Music, not my greatest of passions. However, its a fully funded film that will help me and my brother get our feet wet. It seems I've been waiting for something to fall in my lap. This seems like a great opportunity, but I feel like I'm not 100% on this at the moment. It's not like I don't want any part of this, but I don't want to commit myself to something that might not happen. This is all in the works right now, so I cant tell if this is actually going to happen. We'll shall see. When an opportunity knocks like this, I cant help but answer the door, and see who's on the other side of the peep hole.