Andy’s Panties: The Visual Motif That Subliminally Got You Drunk on The Goonies

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When I was a kid, I wanted movies to instantly make me feel good, like soda pop.  The Goonies was one of the movies I saw on TV all the time while flipping channels, and at the time, it seemed boring and annoying to me, simply because I was tired of seeing it around.  I remember in particular that the kids in it all talking at the same time gave me anxiety.  Because of this, every time I stumbled upon it, I’d change the channel after a scene or two—eventually seeing almost every scene at one point or another, enough to understand the gist of the story—but it wasn’t until I was old enough to pull my head out of my ass that I realized—by actually watching it from beginning to end—that classics like The Goonies are on TV so often because they’re transcendent.

I now also understand that the very aspect that made me feel too frustrated to take The Goonies seriously was supposed to make me feel that way, by design. As an extreme introvert, the constant yapping made me feel uncomfortable, whereas extroverts may have felt invigorated.  The realism of this is beautiful.  It puts us in the story by replicating very real feelings of nervousness and exuberance.  It’s okay that I feel anxious watching the overlapping dialogue—enjoying a movie doesn’t have to mean it makes you feel good.

We graduate from soda pop to cocktails.
Continue reading Andy’s Panties: The Visual Motif That Subliminally Got You Drunk on The Goonies

An Interview with the Directors of ‘A Band Called Death’, Jeff Howlett & Mark Covino

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From left: Jeff Howlett, Mark Covino

A Band Called Death is one of my favorite films of 2013. It’s everything you could want from a music doc—great music, plus a compelling and unique story, told with love and care. I’m sure it will go down as one of best music docs of all time, right up there with Don’t Look Back and Gimme Shelter and Some Kind of Monster.

In a way, it’s not just a story about an interesting rock band, but a time capsule of the power of the time we live in—how music can be discovered nowadays, and how, through the power of the internet, and a generation of music lovers bent on discovering missing pieces of music history, a timeless band from the past who never had the right exposure can finally reach the audience they always deserved.

It’s a fascinating flick, and I’m honored to have had the opportunity to sit down and pick the brains of its filmmakers:
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Rest in Peace, Harold Ramis

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Since we started this website, I’ve always felt like I was on a mission. A mission, despite the fact that, at the end of the day, nothing anybody says about art matters at all.  Art is an individual experience—even in a group, it’s an individual experience.  I can’t convince you of anything, and you can’t convince me.  And it should be that way.  But right now, fuck all that.

Ghostbusters is high art.  Ghostbusters should be thought of the way the Mona Lisa is—as this sacred, unachievable thing forged from genius—because that’s exactly what it is, and it’s been my mission to explain that concept.  There are only about a dozen great movies, and these movies are untouchable.  They are perfect in every way, and they represent the ultimate synthesis of story, performance, writing, color, music, and all the myriad elements that come together to make whatever is on screen at any given moment the perfect thing.

People don’t give a fuck about art.  They like things all willy-nilly and just regurgitate whatever fucking nonsense someone says about why Raging Bull is brilliant.  Fuck all that noise.  Movies like Ghostbusters are advanced.  They do all of the artistic shit Raging Bull does, but for the purpose of entertainment, of making you soak into the movie.  That is beautiful, that is advanced, that is transcendent, and that could only happen a dozen times in about a century because it’s insanely hard to do.

And Ghostbusters isn’t even his best movie.
Continue reading Rest in Peace, Harold Ramis