Best Albums of 2010

 

I posted these on Twitter last month, but I figured it would be worth reposting to the blog, since it seems a lot of my readers haven't caught up to current technology. Anyway, if you're you might notice that all the descriptions are under 140 characters.

Just missing the cut: She & Him, The Black Keys, Eminem, The National, and Jimmy Needham.

 

10. Cee-Lo - 'The Ladykiller'Looks like it's time to admit that Danger Mouse wasn't the cool one in Gnarls Barkley.

 

 

9. Florence and The Machine - 'Lungs'.
A fiercely energetic record. She's like a really urgent Feist.

 

 

8. Gungor – ‘Beautiful Things’
A collection of worship-driven songs with hugely anthemic, roll-down-the-window-and-scream choruses.

 

 

7. Robbie Seay Band - 'Miracles'
I dig anything Robbie Seay does, but he's outdone himself this time. They’ve never sounded sharper.

 

 

6. Freelance Whales - 'Weathervanes'
Because there's just not enough xylophone-driven rock songs.

 

 

5. Gatlin Elms - 'Carry Me Home'
I had huge expectations for this Gatlin Elms record, and it still blew them out of the water.

 

 

4. Jars of Clay – ‘The Shelter’
Their best record since, what, Jars of Clay fans? ‘Who We Are Instead’? ‘Eleventh Hour’?

 

 

3. Guster – ‘Easy Wonderful’
The most inherently cheerful band I know. Impossible to listen to the album and not smile.

 

 

2. Arcade Fire – ‘The Suburbs’
Because even after such a long delay, I should never have wondered if this band was going let me down.

 

 

1. Kanye - 'My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy'
'Cause you start to wonder if maybe you really do need to be a little crazy to be that good.

 

 

Great Expectations

I have come to this conclusion: there are two different yardsticks by which people measure the Harry Potter movies, and both are wrong.

 You’ve heard the complaints from both sides before. People either rate the movies:

  1. By comparing them to the books they based on, or,
  2. Seeing how they stand up on their own when watched by casual fans.

Now, I understand it understandably seems like either one or the other of these should be the standard by which these films should be judged. Certainly those are the standards by which fans and movie reviewers have been judging them so far. But I disagree. These movies should only be judged on their quality as perceived by their existing fans.

Harry Potter, in case you hadn’t noticed, is a phenomenon. The novels are the best-selling book series of all time, while the movies have grossed over $6 billion worldwide so far. While other fantasy books have been made into movies with, at best, mixed success (Percy Jackson, The Golden Compass, The Spiderwick Chronicles, Lemony Snicket, City of Ember, Inkheart, Bridge to Terabitha, etc.), Warner Brothers was assured of their financial remuneration for this movie long before the script was written. The six movies preceding this one were of varying quality, but all grossed nearly identical numbers. 

Hypothetically, if the filmmakers made a movie that went to either extreme – appealed only to its hardcore fans, or sought only to court those unversed – it’s safe to assume that doing so would dent their box office take only a little. It’s moved into the same rarified air that only The Lord Of The Rings movies did – movies with such a strong fanbase that by the end the filmmakers were only beholden to themselves to decide how faithful/accessible an adaptation they wanted to make.

Reviewers keep talking about how the casual viewer won’t grasp the nuances, or that someone who’d never seen a Harry Potter film before couldn’t jump in and understand all the details. But so what? Why would a viewer who hadn’t read the books or seen any previous films matter to the producers? They don’t need them to come and see the newest movie for the movie to be a success. They’re much more concerned about keeping the fans they have.

Why harangue the filmmakers for failing to court the casual viewer? If someone comes into the theater with no prior knowledge of Hogwarts canon and then doesn’t appreciate the film, how is that anyone's fault but the viewer's? But critics only blame the viewer for failing to appreciate something if it's considered high art. It’s hard for the casual viewer to understand the appeal of the films of Alejandro Iñárritu, or Darren Aronofsky, or Pedro Almodóvar, but I don’t see critics faulting those filmmakers for failing to appeal to casual fans unacquainted with jump cuts and nonlinear storytelling. There's a limited market for that sort of film, but I've never seen a critic fault those movies for seeking to appeal to more than the lowest common denominator.

In 2003, 30 years after the original, Ingmar Bergman made Saraband, a sequel to Scenes From A Marriage starring the same actors. It's a movie impossible to appreciate without having seen the first one, but it was universally praised. No one complained that it was hard for a casual viewer to come in, because they innately understood that appreciation of the film was based on your viewing of the previous one. But that's not a liberty they'll extend to Harry Potter, and I don't see why that's so. Really, why fault the filmmakers for making a movie that doesn't grovel for the uninitiated, but instead seeks to seem richer and deeper to people who have put the time into the series thus far? Wasn't "Lost" a better series because at some point it said "we are what we are, we need to make a TV show that keeps the people watching us happy rather than appeal to those who have rejected us thus far?" (I'm reluctant to bring "Lost" up, as opinions of it are now so varied it naturally muddles up any discussion)

This can't be a new discussion, really. Charles Dickens wrote most of his books as continuous serialized stories in magazines. Do you think his publishers complained that he wasn't writing a "previously, on Great Expectations..." before each section?

The producers have made what I think is the strongest choice they could have made – screenwriter Steve Kloves packed the script from beginning to end with every detail that could be jammed in, then Yates directed the movie with regard to emotion and storytelling rather than plot.

Which is sometimes where diehard Potterphiles lose their way. They become so tied to the books that they can’t handle necessary changes made to improve the film as its own individual creation. They become too tied to the idea that the movies are visual representation of the books. But as Charlie Kaufman can tell you, every movie is an adaptation, and things have to be changed.

I was more skeptical than anyone of the idea of making this last book into two separate movies. It seemed like a cash grab (of course, this is a Hollywood blockbuster, so on some level a cash grab is what they’re paid to try to do). I made the argument time and time again – as long as Book Seven is, not a lot actually happens in it. Harry seems to spend most of his time in the woods, moping. 

But I discovered I enjoyed the unhurried pace of this most recent film. Older films expunged nonstory details in the interest of keeping the plot moving, but a major part of what’s endearing about J.K. Rowling’s books are the way you can run around through all in the nooks and crannies of the book and discover the world on your own. In splitting up the book, it enabled Yates to tap into the emotional depth that comes with spending this much time with the characters. It made me wish all of the movies had taken the same strategy.

More than that, I respected how strong the film was, from beginning to end. Certainly, there were a few storytelling gaffes - Ron’s reappearance is an even more egregious plot hole (and speed bump) in the movie than it is in the book - but I found myself drawn into the mesmerizing web of doubt and intrigue that the movie is. I would make the argument that it’s the most resonant of all the Potter films by far.

Eight months from now, I’ll be first in line for the newest Harry Potter movie. And I won’t be hoping that it keeps all my favorite bits from the book, nor will I fret that I need to reread the books to refresh my memory on the details. I’ll be there hoping for what every Potter fan should be hoping for: a good movie.

Look at this, but first, let me tell you why it's wrong.

I already wrote this once. It didn't work out.

I came on the site a couple of days ago to post links to the latest projects I've been working on. I started writing a small introductory paragraph about what the projects were, intending to embed the video and be done with the post. But one paragraph became two, and then twelve, filled with self-righteous explanations of how little time and resources I had and how these projects were created despite great duress and impossible expectations. I suddenly realized I'd been writing for an hour and hadn't come close to saying anything.

This is not unusual for me when discussing my work. If you've been through the Works page of this site, you'll have noted that the projects are offered up with a few paragraphs of explanation, most of which are simply thinly-disguised excuses for the projects' shortcomings. They're full of I only had 24 hours to get it together and I had to figure out how to do it with no budget and with no help and no time to put together a real plan, I set out to try to throw something together. The takeaway is never "listen to this crazy story!", it's "when you consider everything I had against me, this is really the best you could possibly expect."

I've been thinking about this habit for the past few days, wondering why it is I'm simply not capable of just saying "hey, I made this, take a look at it!" It's not a comfortable study to make about yourself. 

Part of the issue is the nature of my job. I churn out about 120 videos a year, which is an large number for a position like mine. I almost never get a chance to do a project where I feel I can make it anywhere near what it could be. It's all a case of what I can get done in a day or two, even for bigger or higher-profiler projects.

Whenever I show someone a video I've finished, I want them to understand that it's not the best project I could do, it's just the best I could come up with on short notice, and look what I managed to do with no resources! I want them to know that I really think I could do this better than I did, if given the chance. I want tempered expectations. 

But quality isn't something that varies according to expectations. If a video I've made is lacking, it's because I didn't make it as well as I could have. That's a fact, regardless of whether I was trying to make it underwater while drunk with a gun to my head.

This makes me sad, because this website is my portfolio, and while there's many projects here that I'm proud of, there's almost nothing that I like without reservations. It's all things that I like and think show my talents, but only when you understand that I think I could've done it better, given the chance.

Someday, I'll learn to let my work stand on its own two feet. Until then, I'll link you to a fascinating interview I did with a Bosnian war refugee called "The World In Our Midst," and a television commercial campaign I did for an outreach ministry our church has.

I think they're both pretty good, considering.

The Social Network

I've always been a  fan of David Fincher and his exacting filmography. And if there's anyone who's completely bought in to Aaron Sorkin's verbose style and intelligent-discourse-is-sexy scripts, it's me. So the idea of the two of them doing a movie together, any movie, is automatically appealing to me. Even the idea of a "Facebook movie."

If you've seen the reviews, you don't need me to tell you that the movie's very, very good, perhaps great. It will garner a Best Picture nomination this spring, Fincher will likely be nominated for Best Director, and Sorkin's an early frontrunner for Best Adapted Screenplay. If you were torn on seeing it, do so. It's worth it.

Interestingly, the things that one would think (or, at least, I would think) should weaken the movie are some of its strongest aspects. The casual viewer might assume that watching someone create a website would be boring, or that the bickering of two college kids creating a web start-up would seem small and petty, but these are some of the strongest parts of the film, simply because the audience inherently knows the stakes of these moments. The small decisions to do something one way and not the other, the slights that slowly fester, the little disputes that that brook separation rather than compromise, all move with the weight of the audience understanding that these seemingly throwaway exchanges changed the course of these character's lives - and, by extension, our lives - in a way they can't remotely comprehend at that moment.

Sorkin noted that he would be just as unhappy as Mark Zuckerberg about the movie (Zuckerberg, Facebook's creator and CEO, has refused involvement in the film and refuted most of its content), since the decisions made at 19 years old would make for an unflattering movie for anyone. I imagine that if someone cobbled together my worst moments from age 19 to 21, you would find a tough character to root for. Especially because these battles are over business decisions made by people who aren't actually in business in any real sense of the word. They're college students. They don't understand how the world works.

I'm now 27, and I now have done enough freelance work to have some understanding of how business is done when the work is hammered out in your living room at 3 in the morning, and all contact is just quick emails and short phone calls. But I made mistakes along the way, and I was mistreated by some of the people who contracted me. These things happen when you're young and unfamiliar with business protocol.

A huge part of the film is based on the lawsuit brought by three students who had hired Zuckerberg to build a social networking website for Harvard students. However, Zuckerberg doesn't build this site, instead he builds Facebook and puts it online himself. The students maintain that he'd stolen their idea, whereas Zuckerberg maintains that his idea was different, and better, which is why his idea worked and their site doesn't exist. Sorkin strives to make sure that both points seem valid: Zuckerberg remembers it one way, the students another, and both are convinced their story is the right one.

And isn't that the way things always are? The Social Network has a clearly deliberate Rashomon quality to it. To Zuckerberg, his idea is different from the one proposed to him, because that proposal made him think "well, then, why not this?" Because his mind works ten steps ahead of most people, he misses the fact that there's a logical progression between the idea proposed to him and the site he created, and that progression means something in the business world. It's the same as a bright high school student who finds himself capable of leaping to the answer in his algebra work without working through the steps given to him in the textbook: since he didn't seem to need the steps, he doesn't realize the steps exist whether or not he's cognizant of using them.

All these mistakes and hurt feelings mean so much more because the end result is a multi-billion dollar business, one that everyone feels they have a stake in. But the weakness of the film is that in some ways, it doesn't recognize that in order to buy the emotional investment of the characters, we need to be convinced that their battles are real. The truth matters.

You would think that it wouldn't, since it's just a movie. Both Fincher and Sorkin have admitted to changing details, imagining conversations, combining multiple encounters into one more dramatic one. Sorkin even pushed to deliberately try to make things more fictional than necessary sometime, with the argument that sometime reality isn't the best choice for a story. There's a scene early in the film where Zuckerberg, the night after a bad breakup, builds a website for comparing Harvard girls against each other. In the scene, and in real life, he drinks several bottles of Beck's, but Sorkin wanted him to make a screwdriver in the film, so that it's clear that he set out to get drunk. And there's nothing wrong with that, right? People understand that this movie version of the story, not the real version.

Except that what keeps this story gripping is its ties to real life. There's only so much an audience can care when a movie character gets cheated out of a billion dollars. But if you can say "this is the story of how Eduardo, a real person and the co-founder of a website you use every day, got cheated out a billion dollars back in 2005," then all of a sudden the financial details, the small decisions carry the weight of us understanding that this guy missed out on not just a lot of money, but on Facebook, the behemoth that controls our online consciousness. That's the only reason we can get involved in this story at all.

I think, in a few years, our appreciation of the movie will fade. We'll remember that it takes place mostly in deposition hearings, we'll recognize the unlikabilty of the Zuckerberg character, and most importantly, we'll forget how important Facebook was in our lives. It'll become MySpace, Friendster, and AIM; Homestar Runner and HotOrNot.com. Something we used to do, someplace we used to spend all our time. The movie will seem dated, and maybe even a little silly. Imagine a website about the founding of any one of those sites. Who would care? Who can even remember?

But as a movie about now, as a movie primed to tap into the zeitgeist, it's damn near perfect. Get out and see it.

More Lists: Most/Least Likable Actresses

Doing the list of most likable/unlikable actors ended up being so fun that I did an actresses version. The actresses' version turned out to be easier - there are more actresses who are well-known for being hard to root for, and more who are famous for being charming and relatable regardless of role. It only took a few minutes to put these two lists together.

 

10. Jayma Mays
 

 9. Alison Brie

8. Felicia Day 


7. Anne Hathaway

6. Amy Adams

5. Sandra Bullock

4. Reese Witherspoon

3. Drew Barrymore

2. Jennifer Garner

1. Rachel McAdams

 And, on the flip side, here are the 10 least likable actresses.

10. Odette Yustman

9. Madonna

8. Megan Fox

7. Michelle Pfeiffer

6. Sarah Jessica Parker

5. Nicole Kidman

4. Selma Blair

3. Anne Heche

2. Tori Spelling

1. Sharon Stone