"Thank You For Smoking" --date unknown

I first saw Aaron Eckhart in Neil LaBute's "Your Friends and Neighbors" and will never forget his opening statements about love and sex; I'm paraphrasing but it basically went, "You know, the best sex I've ever had, is with myself. I am the best lover I've ever had." Am I too young to be asking myself that question? I've seen films with Aaron Eckhart subsequently, "Nurse Betty," the only minutes of "Erin Brokovich" I have ever seen featured Eckhart, and now "Thank You for Smoking" comes along. He is wonderfully cold and funny. This title alone entices any self-loathing smoker. The opening scene begins with Eckhart's character, Nick Naylor, addressing a talk-show crowd, representing the evil tobacco industry, defending and promoting tobacco to the mediocre, uneducated audience of middle-Americans, or even Americans in general, this film continually targets as its prime suspect. Isn't this movie really exploiting the American psyche? Scenes among the three legal industries which can be argued as the most detrimental to American society, tobacco, alcohol and firearms, take advantage of a patriotism toward America that maintains a status quo for certain wealthy persons. And isn't that just what this movie is saying, that anything goes with a price? Mocked in this film is the original Marlboro man, riddled with cancer, yet willing to fold over a suitcase of money. Whoopee, I'm fucking proud to be an American. Worthless, junky-like products, acceptable in lawmaker's eyes, because , fuckin A, they make money off it. I don't have to repeat myself. The beauty of a social comedy such as this is that it raises awareness to those who acknowledge the problems that make this film funny, the tragedy is the awareness is provided to those who are already aware, though still shackled with the narcissistic, materialist, competitive insecurities each and every American is brought up with, be them black, white, Latino, whatever. We all want more, and this film dedicates itself to the greed inherent in us, and any one who says different can kiss my ass.

"Brick" date unknown-mentally prepared at time of creation

I am taking the time to honor our social chair, Krisy Wall--for having the insight to green light the club's viewing of "Brick," directed by Rian Johnson, despite the bad reviews by a certain coworker whose parents were obviously "Star Wars" nerds. Piece it together, he's in his late twenties early thirties, about the same time, right. I guess they were hoping to breed a son of greatness only they produced a worn-out Don Johnson permanent 5 o'clock shadow and a real sweet bucket cap. It is personal, I am shallow, he yelled at me on set. Back to movies. Now had I known prior to screening that this film was about drug-adled punks from San Clemente, at San Clemente High School, I wouldn't have seen it probably. I'm a baby like that. However, I think we can all agree that "Brick" would be crucial to the charter of our little group, and I am happy to have witnessed this film with such great movie-going friends. Enough. There is an aura to "Brick" that lingers upon ending. Thinking about this film, piecing it together, enjoying characters. Ambitious and original, yet familiar only in the way my uncle suggested I sit through "The Maltese Falcon," when I was eleven years old. Not to say they are the same, yet each film displays an importance of tone in a film, and how every aspect of every scene must stay consistent with that tone. Is there a sunny day in "Brick?" Not to these kids. While the dialogue is magnificent, the continuity between dialogue and visual complimented the creation of such enigmatic figures as Brendan, Laura, and Tug--whose scenes of racing through a grocery store parking lot in a muscle car are priceless. The birds, hung from the Pin's basement ceiling, or on his cane, or flying across the football field at dawn, before and after the brutally beautifully fight scenes, were painted with the cold, unnatural glow from the bird crested lamps in contrast to the soft, smooth colors of the dawning sky. So much to remember about this film, it kept me reminiscing for at least a week. Usually reminiscing is saved for good or bad experiences in life, but good and bad movies can make for some great reminiscing. "A Sound of Thunder" and "Brick" should only be slotted together here, otherwise there could be no more polar opposite for the good and bad of film. Which is which? Go see them both and decide. Only Director of Programming and I, The President, can say for now. Adieu to our Treasurer, Ryan Stern, she will be missed. But she will be back. She will come back full force, storied and versed in the trashy, weathered, obnoxious and arrogant mindset of the east coast, our lives suck but we have to put every other motherfucker down but make it sound great sort of way they do it. Peace. We must resume progress.

5/8/06 "The Proposition"

On the heels of "Hard Candy," a film that left each member of the Monday Night Movie Club with a refreshing taste of pedophilia in their mouths, comes "The Proposition." And just in time. Having abandoned his instincts for the previous week's selection, our Director of Programming, Tyler Ott, made a gut decision in choosing this masterful western set in the Australian outback. Our hats off to our friend Mr. Ott; "The Proposition" did not disappoint. From the end of the opening credits, to the beginning of the end credits, "The Proposition" sucks the audience into gunslinging, and fighting, redemption and massacre. Soldiers fighting outlaws, trying to establish law in a lawless land. A land of natives taken away by white men, eternally jealous of their infinite tans, fight with collars and suits, acting as savages, believing themselves pious because of the "society" they claim to represent. An eye for an eye, two wrongs making a right. "The Proposition" showcases a human condition where right and wrong merely reflect which side one chooses. Wonderfully tormented as usual, Guy Pearce, gives himself to the role of Charlie Burns, with a mighty fine Irish accent I must say. He understands the abominable acts his brother Arthur committed, not in the way that he believes them to be right, for he seems to take the side of the "law" in claiming the rape and murder of a family as grotesque, yet he is conflicted by his role within the family. He is calm and calculated, unlike Arthur and certainly unlike the youngest Burns boy, Mikey. But to what justice does Charlie owe in turning his older brother Arthur into the British army. A settlement of criminals occupied the late 19th century, the setting of "The Proposition," places an interesting emphasis on right and wrong. Yes, Arthur Burns murdered a settler family, but was he not a product of an environment poisoned by a criminal foundation. Maybe its a stretch to let Arthur Burns slide on rape and murder, but the delicacy with which Charlie treats the proposition Colonel Stanley offers, and the guilt that Colonel Stanley seems to carry for imposing guilt on Mikey and Charlie Burns for the crimes of their brother, foil any clear understanding of right and wrong or good and bad. Not to mention the cinematography and score complimented this melancholy tale beautifully, "The Proposition," is a film to rave about, and in the words of our Director of Programming, "It was fucking sweet." To this someone might ask, "why?" upon which our D of P responds, "Because I said so."