I was born in a beauty salon...

Well, my life's about to get a lot more busy. Classes start up next week and both schools are already abuzz with students and doings.

Spent most of last week in the pictureseque RM of Gimli, Manitoba. My brother-in-law got married and many people from my wife's family came in for the wedding. We all stayed in a quaint little cabin.

Went to see Mr Bean's Holiday on Tuesday and I don't think I've been as disappointed in a film since Star Wars: Episode One. Many of the reviews I've seen since have stated that you either like Mr. Bean or you don't; your response to the movie rests on this. I like Mr. Bean, and have for many years, but I HATED this movie. I hardly laughed at all. Most of the good bits were just rehashed (in one way or another) for more interesting bits of the television show. There was a subtextual theme of art and filmmaking (Bean travels to Cannes and wackiness ensues at the Cannes Film Festival), but frankly I couldn't have cared less. Instead of Willem Dafoe, I thought the role of the arrogant, self-absorbed filmmaker should have been played by Rowan Atkinson. Heck, if Mike Myers can do it in every Austin Powers film, why not? Most people in North American only know Atkinson as Bean, but his work as the charmingly wicked Blackadder is far superior to the mostly-silent character. Allowing Atkinson to do a Blackadder-like character within a Mr. Bean film would give some exposure to this talented comedic-actor.

While I was sitting in the theatre watching Mr Bean go through the motions, I got to thinking about sketch-based films and movies that should be short subjects. Mr Bean works as a half hour show, but when he screws up for the umpteenth time and, one more time, can't manage to get on the train for Cannes, we move past funny. Most Saturday Night Live films fall into this category: it was funny as a sketch, but a 90 minute film is pushing it. Then I began thinking about the number of trailers for upcoming movies that seem to be trying to make a full-length feature out of a 10 minute concept. Take Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story, for instance. Yes, there's a talented cast (Jenna Fischer, John C. Reilly) and crew (Judd Apatow) but is a full-length spoof of Walk the Line really necessary?

I know a woman, became a wife

I highly recommend that readers in the city of Winnipeg go check out Theatre by the River's production of Shakespeare's Two Gentleman of Verona, which is running at the Cricket Pavilion at Assiniboine Park. Suggested donation is $10, and there's really no reason NOT to check it out. The play runs August 19, 21-26. Go. Now.

The play is thought to be Shakespeare's first, and, while not as sophisticated as later plays, establishes themes and motifs he would return to in later comedies: the inconstancy of love and the ridiculousness of courting rituals, disguise. And there's a few amusing bits with a dog. The play is rarely performed, so this is an excellent opportunity to see a competent (and, at times, inspired) production of a lesser-known Shakespeare play.

The Theatre by the River company does an excellent job with the material, particularly in adding some extra comedic bits with the outlaws and the characterization. Brent Hirose (who I'm pretty sure was in my sister-in-law's play "The Apple-seed Girl") turns Sylvia's father into a George W. Bush character. In the hands of lesser actor, ALL the laughs would come from this and the character would seem an ineffectual clown, but Hirose allows the father to be both slow and menacing when needs be. My favourite interpretation was Megan Herkert's take on Speed, Valentine's servant. In a striking business-suit and with an ever-present cellphone, Speed becomes a capable personal assistant. She's not a clown; when she chides her master for his love, it bares the weight of experience. The friendship of Speed and Launce becomes one of unrequited love, with Speed's lines tweaked to suggest her affection and longing for Launce. The scene in which Speed reads the qualities of Launce's love becomes almost heart-wrenching. I thought this (particularly Herkert's impressive range) added a missing level of sophistication to the play.

The cast (Derek Leenhouts, Rod Beilfuss, Lisa Nelson -who must have darn-near froze in her costume, Mel Marginet, Matt TenBruggencate - who, in defiance of WC Fields' mantra, works with the dog, Robbyn Michal, and James Firby) show that creative and unique theatre experiences are still possible in the city.

PS Superbad is supergood.

"Save it for the talk room, son"

It's hard to believe that we're nearing the end of summer. In fact, I refuse to believe it. I'm saying it's still July 5th. Who's with me?

The next week holds meetings and family things. I'm not sure which I'm looking forward to more.

Figure four is half of eight

I saw Stardust on the weekend. It's very good. Michelle Pfeiffer has followed up her 5 year hiatus from filmmaking with two of the best villians of the year: Velma Von Tussle in Hairspray and the witch Lamia in Stardust.

I run hot and cold when it comes to fantasy. I didn't read a lot of it as a kid. I've never read A Stitch in Time or The Hobbit. I've never read any Robert Jordan, though I have made it through the Lord of the Rings and the Narina books, but even these highly enjoyable works have done little to prompt me to venture further into the world of magic. Neil Gaiman, whose works, which include the novella on which the film is based, were first suggested to me by the pixie-ish Jaimie, has become a favourite author.

I sit and think about the day that you're going to die

Saw a number of movies this weekend, and all of them were pretty good. Firstly, there was The Simpsons Movie/Bourne Ultimatium double bill at the drive-in. Drive-ins are pretty cool, and take me back to the simpler times of my childhood. In today's environmentally conscious age, however, I believe that idling my car to recharge the battery between movies borders on irresponsibility. We opted to bring radios (which we used for the Simpsons) and then use the car for Bourne.

The Simpsons Movie is good, but not great. I haven't watched new episodes of Simpsons in over four years; I felt they'd hit a wall creatively and were bogged down with endlessly self-referential scripts. The film played like a really good episode, more along the lines of season 2-5. They could, being a movie, push the envelope a bit farther in terms of language and crudeness, but they stayed pretty tame.

The Bourne Ultimatium was very, very good. After a heavily Bourne-influenced Bond film(Casino Royale), I was curious to see where this film series, which many credit for the more serious tone in the 007 franchise, would go. It didn't get bogged down with silly and superfluous subplots or love interests, it was all out action in the best possible sense of the word.

Finally, I saw Hairspray, which left me with a bit of mixed reaction. I really liked what I saw and thought the musical numbers were fun, but something left me cold. I realized afterwards that part of what I was feeling was the realization that a lot of what made John Waters' original film so different was left out: Penny's imprisonment with the psychairst, Tracey's turn in special ed and her time in jail, the final dance off, the hair-bomb. Some of these changes are understandable - you have to cut out somethings to make room for plot; other changes just seem misguided, like having Amber's mom the station manager. Okay, it's 1962 and black people can't dance on television with white people, but a SINGLE WOMAN runs a television station? Also, the scene of her trying to seduce Tracey's dad makes no sense WHATSOEVER! The actors are good, the direction is interesting, the music is engaging, but it's strange changes like this that annoyed me. I mean overall I was pleased, but thought it could have been much better.

An ocean’s garbled vomit on the shore

Ingmar Bergman (1918 -2007)

In Memoriam

It's hard and I got harder

The half-hour walk to work has left me a sweaty, sticky mess. I really hope this afternoon's expected thunderstorms do something about this humidity. The way people talk, humidity is a relatively new thing in Manitoba, though complaining about the weather is as old as the hills.

Of course the sub-Arctic conditions in my office will likely give me pneumonia. I love how we compensate for the excessive heat by turning our homes and offices into meatlockers. And then, once February rolls around, we'll crank up the heat in those same buildings to compensate for the minus 40 weather outside. When you're inside you need a sweater in the summer and shorts in the winter... Yeah, that makes sense.

If I were a rich man...

After spending the majority of the weekend Fringing it, I find myself at a bit of a loss about what to say/recommend. Incredibly, I liked everything I saw. Sure, some plays/performances were better than others, but, on the whole, I was more than happy with each thing we went to. In fact, the only terrible, pretentious crap I had to sit through were the other Fringers in line trying to pass themselves off as cultured and refined. "Oh, we saw that company four years ago, and they were all right... if you like that sort of thing."

It was incredible to watch this group of 5 or 6 strangers try to one up each other with references to past Fringe shows and bemused indifference to all the plays they had seen and the plays other people mentioned. "Oh, that didn't make 'The List'." (NB not "my list", but "The List). And what was even funnier was that they all seemed, when it was all said and done, to have taken each other's advice on what NOT to see.

All right, some things I'd recommend:

"A Woman of Independent Means" - flawless acting, engaging story, but, if I'm honest, too long and traditional for a true Fringe show. This easily could be at MTC or PTE.

"Was THAT My 15 Minutes?" - Susan Jeremy can hold an audience in the palm of her hand. Plus, some awesome old-school break dancing.

The Alix Sobler/Jason Neufeld plays: Honestly, I thought Alix's play was tighter and more interesting, but Jason's is certainly worth seeing. A brilliant concept for a series of plays. I'd recommend seeing his play first.

"The Feel Goods": My soon-to-be-official family ties to the writer notwithstanding, this was a very good and very funny play. It got a really good review from CBC (four bars!) and compared it to Wes Anderson The Royal Tenenbaums.

"Giant Invisible Robot" - Jayson MacDonald's touching and funny one man show about a guy's relationship with a Giant Invisible Robot (or GIR). Hard to sum up, but easily one of the most inventive shows at this year's Fringe.

"The Problem" - Mentioned in my last entry, this short play got a 5 star review from CBC. I really hope that translates into ticket sales. The audience of 12 I saw this play with certainly did not reflect the quality of the work.

"The Genghis Khan Guide to Etiquette" Poetry-cum-stand-up. Rob Gee is an engaging and insightful performer.

"Who the Devil are You?" Chris Gibbs' "play" about self-discovery. Gibbs is one of the best acts on the Fringe tour. His rapport with an audience is second to none. Worth seeing for his monologue and asides.

"Decameron:" South Africa's Erik de Waal's take on Boccaccio's 14th century masterpiece. de Waal transfers the setting of the framing narrative to a house of ill-repute rather than the rural Fiesole. I was a little surprised that he began with Boccaccio's bawdiest tale, a tale so off-colour that translators used to leave that particular story untranslated. De Waal is a master storyteller, who handles the tone of different stories well.

Sound and Fury's Cyranose: I read one review that criticized this much-loved troupe of being too bawdy. This "critic" either hasn't been to many Sound and Fury shows (that's their humour) or is very easily offended (most of their "bawdy"jokes are merely suggestive). What I like about Sound and Fury, besides their anarchic sense of humour, is that the actors actually greet you as you come in to the theatre. They talk to you, joke with you and even help you find a seat (their shows sell out).

Me Used to be an Angry Young Man

Well, it's Fringe time in Winnipeg once again.

I always enjoy the Fringe festival and try to see my share of plays. This year, as my work schedule is much more flexible than it has been in previous years, I'll likely get to a dozen or so plays. Last night I saw the first of those - Maxim and Cosmo by TJ Dawe. Dawe is a perennial favourite; his shows are always witty, insightful and very funny. This one is no exception. My only problem was the venue. Backstage at MTC has poor acoustics. I've seen Dawe is a number of different venues and know he can project, but people in the back row had trouble hearing him. If you go, try to sit close to the front.

I'm also REALLY looking forward to The Feel Goods (Venue 11) - and not just because my future sister-in-law wrote and stars in it. I saw a workshop reading of it a while ago, but apparently there have been some changes. Can't wait to see what they are.

UPDATE:

This afternoon I ducked out of the office and saw "The Problem," a wonderful absurdist piece that's playing at the air-conditioned Venue 10. A former student of mine, Jared Falk, is in it and, I must say, it's really good. It's a short play - only 25 minutes - so, if The Fringe isn't your thing or you're unsure about theatre in general, it's a minimal time commitment.

And kept my mind from wandering

Saw the new Harry Potter film last night and with the exception of the packed theatre, it was a mostly enjoyable experience. The film is, as most reviewers have pointed out, considerably darker than previous entries, but given the tone of the book is that any surprise? I thought the real highlight was Imelda Stauton as the prickly, prissy Undersecretary-cum-schoolmistress, Dolores Umbridge.After all, true evil comes not in meancing facades, but in pink hairy jumpers. The reveal of her Hogswart office caused me to laugh right out loud.

Unfortunately, with all the intrigue and, let's face it, plot, many of the secondary characters, who flesh out Harry's universe, are lost in the shuffle: young Malfoy, Potter's long time foil, is reduced to mere utilitarian role as an Inquisitor; Professor McGonagall has just one or two good scenes.

I just don't know what to do with myself...

In which our protagonist complains about the amount of moving he's done in recent weeks

I hate change. Hate it with a fiery passion. Once the change takes place I'm all right, but during the period of change, not so much. Even good change. I'm in a time of change right now and I recognize it as good change (starting new jobs in my chosen field, moving into better offices, leaving jobs where I'd hit a wall) but I still hate the process.

Today I moved offices again. I was going to stay in the office I've had for the past year, but I found out that the office next door (which has shelves and a much better work space) is free. I emailed the Dean, who emailed the President, and viola! So, after spending last week setting up my old office the way I wanted it, organizing my notes and files, I've spent the better part of the day undoing all that work and re-establishing it one room over...

Be we in Paris or in Lansing

In which our hero relates his recent - and utterly humiliating - experience with airport security

I pride myself at how well I fly. I arrive early at the airport, I have all my documentation ready to display, and I have never been (even moderately) hassled. I don’t set off metal detectors and, despite flying in the US a few months after 911, I have never been asked to remove my shoes. And I don’t pack liquids in my carry-on. In fact, I turn in disgust from people who, apparently living under rocks, are forced to empty their bags of toothpaste, cologne, perfume.

Whether it’s my diligent prep work (making sure I have removed most metal objects and all liquids from my person) or the fact that I am the MOST unassuming person in the history of world, security people barely seem conscious of my existence. However, all that changed when, flying home from Toronto, I set off the metal detectors.

I was a little taken aback when the buzzer sounded. “That never happens,” I thought to myself.

The unhappy-looking security person mumbled something about holding my arms out and if it was okay to run the wand over my person. I consented. The wand registered metal at all the buttons on my jeans and at my belt buckle. I knew what was coming next…

“Can you undo you belt, please, sir?”

“Sure,” I said, trying to seem helpful but not eager.

“Just hold the ends apart, please, sir.” And I did. The wand registered metal in the proper places and, while I stood there with my belt undone, she set about scanning the rest of my body, finding acceptable traces of metal in my shoes; however, the next place the wand registered metal confused me: the middle of my thigh!

“May I pat you down, please, sir?”

Running her hand down my thigh, she came across the hem of my boxer/briefs. She used the wand and it registered metal.

“What’s that, sir?”

“Um, my underwear.” Unpleasant visions of being strip-searched danced in my head along with a million questions: Have Fruit of the Loom started using metal thread? Does my underwear have an underwiring? Did I forget having a metal rod inserted in my leg? What’s setting off this stupid metal detector?

The unhappy security guard waved male colleague over.

“Would you mind if my partner feels inside your pants(!)?”


“Not at all,” I lied. I don’t know why she thought I’d be more comfortable with a man rooting around in my pants.

The man… felt around, but came up with nothing interesting (insert your own joke here).

So the unhappy lady continued to wand me. Almost immediately something in my back pocket registered metal – my wallet! I always put my wallet in the tray to go through the x-ray machines, but for some reason I’d forgotten.

“Can you taken that out, please sir?”

Removing my wallet with one hand (my other hand was busy keeping my pants up), I handed it over. She wanded the wallet – and it registered metal. She re-wanded my thigh – no metal. The wand was picking up the metal from my wallet through my thigh!

After a few minutes of removing things from my wallet, we discovered the source of the problem: my pass key card for Booth. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

It's not the pale moon that excites me

Well, the new job(s) started this week and I've spent most of the past few days setting up my offices - one in Winnipeg, one in Otterburne. I've been hanging picutres, filing, and trying to get some sense of which of my many summer projects need the most attention. I still have another day or so of filing to do; hopefully I can start next week off in a reasonably organized space.

Went to a Bar BQ last night. Friends from Calgary were in town and the event was hosted by friends in the city whom we don't see as much as we should. There were a few other families there and, in total, about 7 hundred children. I have to say, kids hopped up on hotdogs and sugar: better than television.

I promise I will post more very soon. This has been an exceptionally busy week and the time to blog has been eaten up with other, more pressing matters.

Let Me Clear My Throat

Everything's going to be all right now. "But we've missed you, Mike," you say. "Our lives just aren't as sunny without your aecerbic wit."

There, there, little ones. Daddy's home.

The past month or so has been particularly crazy. My parents came for a week-long visit (sans sister, who has expected and backed out at the last minute ofr reasons I don't want to get into) and to watch me graduate. They were also here for my most-excellent grad Party. So, rather than posting, my time was spent touring them around the city of Winnipeg. We hit the main attractions: the Forks, the Exchange, the UM. I was going to take them out to Steinbach to see the Mennonite Historical Village but the weather had other ideas.

The graduation was very nice - long but nice. The Governor General is an engaging speaker and I enjoyed the fact that she (long with my wife and mother) applauded every graduate who crossed the stage.

My parents left on the Sunday, and I turned around to visit them, so I could be there for my Dad's 60th birthday party (which was a surprise).

I had a nice time in Ontario and was able to visit with a few people (Jaimie; my goddaughter Del and Chris and Jenn; my highschool friends), but those trips home always seem so rushed. There's always a few more people I would have liked to see. I really would have liked to get to Waterloo and visit there, but there just wasn't time.

Since arriving back in Winnipeg, I've been to a farewell lunch for my wife (she's leaving her job at the end of this week) and have set about sorting and organizing all the crap from my UM Press office - what goes to my new office? what gets thrown out?

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").