I was so much older then...

I'm 32 today. And it's my last day of work at the UM Press. Pity I have to spend it in the asbestos-filled sweat box, assembling shelves.

Everywhere I go it rains on me

After the well-documented Spiderman 3 fiasco, I was a little reluctant to go to the movies the other night. But I sucked it up and went. And as much as I hated Spiderman 3, I loved Sarah Polley's amazing Away from Her. Based on Alice Munro's short story, "The Bear Came Over the Mountain," Away From Her deals with effects of Alzheimer's on a couple. Having dealt with a grandmother who we had to put in a nursing home and gradually lost most of her short term memories, I was particularly struck by the almost throw away scene of an unnamed older lady coming up to a sea of walkers with a confused look. She can't figure which one is hers; she knows she has a walker, needs a walker, but can't remember what hers looks like. It so perfectly captures the helplessness and fragility of mental illness.

Gordon Pinsent and (the still ravishing) Julia Christie are remarkable as the couple. Also, Kristen Thomson as the nurse, is brilliant. I haven't seen her in anything else, but her character is so interesting. The script, adapted by Polley who's only in her late 20s, is mature, senstive and thoughtful, never going sappy or 'movie of the week."

Sang a song about a honky-tonk, it was time to leave

Words can't express how much I hated Spiderman 3... well, a string of profanities could perhaps sum up my thoughts on the matter. This film was capital-T terrible. More than once during the course of the movie I turned to my wife and asked, "What the hell is this?" In fact, I spent most of the time asking questions as a way of keeping my brain active lest it explode. I thought I'd share of these questions with you:

Why does the Venom symbiote turns Peter Parker emo?
Where did Peter learn to dance and play the piano?
Doesn't the Sandman look an awful lot like Ernest? ("Know whadda mean, Vern?")
Why was Peter allowed back in the Jazz Room (my experience is that you tend to be banned from an establishment after beating up the bouncers)?
Isn't Stan Lee dead yet?
When Uncle Ben and Aunt May "swam out to the island" so that he could propose, where did he conceal the ring while he was in the water? It's got to have been on something or up somewhere. Why were Gwen and Capt Stacy at Harry's funeral when THEY DIDN'T KNOW EVEN HIM?
People can't figure out how to beat a guy made out of sand? Seriously?
Why did this film have 76 endings?

I'm so glad we used our free cereal box passes to see this. If I had paid money to see this festering turd of a moive, I might have been tempted to burn down the theatre. Now I just have to eat the cereal, which could never, thankfully, leave such a bad taste in my mouth as this film.

"It ain't a fit night out for man nor beast"

I love W.C. Fields. W.C. Fields is a comic after my own heart: he tells it like it is, isn't afraid to make himself the butt of the joke, doesn't care what people think. He didn't care for kids and didn't care who knew it. After starting out on the vaudeville circuit with people like Chaplin and the Marx Brothers, Fields moved into short silent comedies where he displayed his gift for physical comedy. But when talking pictures took over, Fields was able to show his gift for verbal comedy and made some of the funniest shorts and feature length films ever made. Here's a clip from the 1934 film where Fields, who consumed more booze than a French village, shows off his skills as a juggler.

Drops on roses and whiskers on kittens

I released something this morning: I've lived in Manitoba to recognize the ulitimate act of a desperate politican. PC leader Hugh McFayden announced the other day that if he's elected he'll bring back the Jets. Seriously? Gentlemen, I think the horse is dead, yet you continue to beat on it.

Whenever someone running for office realizes their snowball-in-hell's chance, they evoke that holy-of-holies name, the Winnipeg Jets. As someone who did not grow up here (and, frankly, hates hockey) I can't understand why people get so worked up about this issue. I can't understand why politicans promise to bring the team back after so many years.

It's NEVER going to happen. I probably have as much chance being made a team in the NHL.

Where, where have they gone? Now it's nothing but flowers

I know I've been a little behind with the updates, but, truthfully, I really haven't had much to say - no pearls of wisdom, no amusing stories. I've been working a bit. Not too much, mind you, but it's been more than a little bit frustrating. Most of my job this past week has involved the massive reorganization of our storage area at the UM. This translates as Mike moving a lot of very heavy boxes around a dungeon-like, asbestos-filled room. When I takes breaks, I'm too tired and sweaty to write things here. I tend to just sit around, gasping for breath and praying for sweet death to take me.



In the evenings I've been re-watching a couple of favourite films. Last weekend I watched His Girl Friday, Duck Soup, My Man Godfrey and The Thin Man. I also re-read Hammett's novel The Thin Man on the bus to work (it's a fairly short read, perfect for ignoring the Tilley Hat Man). This weekend I watched a few favourites and a few new films: a W.C. Fields' short ("The Fatal Glass of Beer") and feature (The Bank Dick), Notes on a Scandal and Hot Fuzz. Thought Notes on a Scandal was particularly good, but I couldn't decide what I found creepier: Judy Dench's character's obsession, the Cate Blanchett character's affair with a student or the fact that her husband was so bloody old. Seriously, the idea of Cate and Bill Nighy is almost as disturbing as her rolling around on the ground with a pimply-faced teenager.



Hot Fuzz is amazing. I am a big fan of Shaun of the Dead, but I think star/co-writer Simon Pegg and director/co-writer Edgar Wright have surpassed themselves with this film. Like Shaun, Hot Fuzz trends the thin line between comedy and satire. Yes, it's hilariously funny (mostly co-star Nick Frost), but there are moments of genuine shock and drama as well. The film is more than just a spoof, it has an edge and bite that makes everything mean more.



It also features a collection (sometimes just cameos) of some of the finest comedic talents in Britain: Martin Freeman ("The Office" and The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy), Bill Bailey ("Black Books"), Steven Coogan ("Alan Partridge," 24 Hour Party People, Tristam Shady), and Stephen Merchant (co-creator/writer/director "The Office").