you know I have a thing for it– the imagined so-called end of the world.
in all its panoply of permutation and prosody. the possibly-final battle against the human race’s threatened extinction. imagistically portrayed in popular and genre film, from the gruesomely zombie anarchic to the romantically poetic to the
this fun a literary/pop culture mashup is streaming now on netflix. it’s a wittily scripted riff on high school ethics sprouting from an assigned reading (dvd watching) of hawthorne and double-stepping across the screen with quippily literary repartee and an essentially humane dynamic of individual dilemma, decision, and resolution.
revelatory lead emma stone (appearing in more and more films right now, and apparently enjoying her very well deserved place in the sun at the moment) smokes and boasts a neat set of pipes to boot.
nyt dismissed it as ultimately puritanical and second to clueless, but that’s kind of movie review overkill. plus it has cool trompe l’oeil titles.
yesterday was a good, long day– I went in to the press and tinkered with jen’s tabletop 6″x9″ sigwalt platen press, learning lots of hands-on lessons about how linoleum blocks play on this kind of machine and about print area limitations and the like (all in aid of considering purchasing a similar press for home use)– with a break midday to drive up to skokie and meet laura and tammy and gina for a giddy catchup lunch– more printing through the afternoon, and then to drew’s eatery with jen and her daughter jo (how doggone cute is she??) for yummy clear-conscience fare for dinner– and eventually home, feeling good and tired…
only to find an envelope virtually sparking with surprise from my lovely friend (both FB and REAL) gina down in durham, nc– the first of our mutual “pay it forward” creative pledges for 2011…
The truth is I wish life were as legible and constructed as an episode of Grey’s Anatomy.
The emotional order of its scripting and plotting, sailing near (surely, to some, plumb over) the edge of cheeze in pursuit of a fine fiction fraught with artificially induced emotional truths a viewer might temporarily embrace, the release of soap operatic scale. Escapist, indeed. I’m a little behind the 8 ball on weighing in on this one, but– the Grey’s Anatomy Music Event was, in my opinion, splendid.