Seeing Green

"A delicious meal now requires less energy. Now you can help save the planet in just 10 minutes. With the eco-friendly convenience of Contessa Green Cuisine. Green Cuisine comes from the world's first green frozen-food manufacturing plant. It uses half the energy and reduces CO2 emissions by 50 percent compared to a conventional plant built today. And that helps protect our planet for future generations. Easy to prepare. Easy on the planet. Contessa Green Cuisine."

--from an advertisement in the May 2008 issue of Men's Health magazine

Last year, like many people, I saw the documentary An Inconvenient Truth and got worried about the state of the environment, not to mention the guilt I felt over the amount of paper towels I've wasted in my lifetime. Around that time, as I watched the 2007 Academy Awards (when An Inconvenient Truth won for Best Documentary Feature), I made what turned out to be an accurate prediction--that companies would soon be jumping on the environmental bandwagon. It all came to me as I watched Hollywood act like giddy cheerleaders to Al Gore's star quarterback. Everyone felt great about the environmentally-friendly telecast and the electric cars that shuttled some celebrities to the event. It was only a matter of time before companies and corporations saw this as a chance to make money.

This is not to say that I'm taking the crisis lightly. I'm an avid recycler, and I make efforts to do as many little things as I'm capable of doing on a given day. I shake my head at people who believe that global warming is a myth, and based on the documentary alone, I feel that Al Gore helped set in motion events and actions that have literally changed the world for the better. While I believe that certain companies (such as Contessa) are actively making changes to fight CO2 emissions and climate change, I get a nagging feeling. A feeling that most of it is aimed at bottom lines instead of tree lines. For every soda can I recycle, I know that there is a ridiculous amount more that I could do, but I resist the idea that buying a package of sesame chicken stir-fry in order to make a difference.

I also admire people who have the means to modify their homes to utilize solar power, but sometimes it merely looks like a personal pat on the back. The other day, there was a feature on a local news broadcast, detailing a couple having an entire house (and foundation) shipped to an island off the coast of Seattle via ferryboat. The segment was very interesting, and one of the homeowners went into detail about the environmental features of the house. I'm sure her intentions were genuine, but the vibe was that it was meant to counter the fuel and energy needed to transport what appeared to be a small mansion across Puget Sound.

It would just be more refreshing if companies could be more environmentally responsible without having to show it. Of course, that's impossible, because with responsibility comes the chance to look good. Since global warming is threatening us with changes that could take place in the next ten years, perhaps I shouldn't be complaining. If an ad like the one above makes someone think about these problems, then that's a good thing. I just feel that a crisis that could lead to the loss of lives, plus the extinction of several species of animal shouldn't be fodder for sales. Individuals and companies should continue doing their part, and the only reason it should be advertised is to make others aware.

(S)'Nuff Said

Whenever Chuck Palahniuk comes out with a new book, I always get excited, sometimes against my better judgement. While I believe that a select few of his novels (Fight Club, Invisible Monsters, Survivor, and Choke) are great works, his fiction has rapidly declined in quality since then. His later works run dangerously close to being mere schlock disguised in literary clothing. As of late, it seems as if Palahniuk is sacrificing his talents in order to shock readers. And then shock them some more. While this trait is evident in his earlier fiction, it worked with the story instead of now, when he seems to think of the most subversive acts and tries to weave a novel around them. Despite these criticisms, he will always hold a special place in my love of literature and books. He very graciously provided me with my first interview as a college journalist, which alone fills me with excitement before the release of a new title.

I recently finished his latest book, Snuff, and I'm pleased to report that he seems to be going in a better direction, albeit with some flaws. While not a great book by any means, the "shock values" are toned down, based in what most of us would assume is the seedy, business-like workings of the pornography industry. Snuff tells the story of Cassie Wright, a veteran porn star attempting to set a world record by fornicating with six hundred men on film. It's told mainly by three of the "actors" waiting for their turns, as well as Cassie's assistant. They all have their separate agendas, and Palahniuk deals with these agendas quite well by hinting at them early on instead of relying on a quick, jumbled ending (as he's been wont to do lately). This might seem like an awfully basic plot description, but any further details would require giving quite a bit away.

Palahniuk has always been categorized as a minimalist, and Snuff is quite heavy on that (oxymoron?). The physical descriptions and scenes are done quite well, giving the reader a well-done atmosphere, but moving on quickly. Most of the paragraphs are just a sentence or two long enough to avoid being stylized a la James Frey--stark and minimalist in a very annoying fashion. Overall, especially given its late May release, Snuff feels like a beach novel trying to masquerade as subversive fiction.

Despite my harsh criticisms, the novel does have some genuinely funny moments, and the "porn names" of several major films (A Separate Piece) are creative. Plus, Palahniuk devotes more time to describing factual, historical events that weave in greatly with the story. To borrow the name of his non-fiction collection, it's truly stranger than fiction. It's his way of showing that no matter how depraved some of his fiction ideas are, they're not that different from what happens on a daily basis. Based on his early quartet of excellent novels, I'm fully convinced that Palahniuk still has the talent to blend literature with the bizarre. Snuff isn't close, but much more enjoyable than anything he's published in the last five years.

Novel Approaches

As I mentioned in my first post, I write fiction, but by choice will not display any of it on Chicago Ex-Patriate. However, since I do my best to keep my thoughts in non-fiction essay format, I see no problem in discussing my fiction writing, even if I offer no physical proof (short stories, excerpts, etc.). For some reason, this reminds me of a wonderful line from the 2003 film Swimming Pool. At one point, a young antagonist tells a dour crime author: "You write about dirty things but never actually do them." I love writing and discussing literature, but in the interest of balance, I feel that I need to make my own contributions.

Writing as a whole has been on my mind constantly as of late, since I'm taking notes, drafting outlines, and researching a major project--writing a novel. Yes, I understand that the concept of "writing as a whole" is about as tangible as "defining love." This means a thousand different things to a thousand different people. Novels and longer narratives have been scattered around my study like windblown newspapers on a downtown street. At the moment, I'm reading three novels at once, works that couldn't be more different, works that have no bearing on my own project: Snuff, the latest book by Chuck Palahniuk; The Savage Detectives, a look at revolutionary Mexican poets by Roberto Bolano (a novel that I had planned to have finished reading for a blog review about two months ago); and Lila Heavy From the Get-Go, an unpublished manuscript by Paul Bergstraesser, given to me years ago, detailing three of my favorite subjects: love, music, and the Chicago Bulls. All of this heavy reading is both essential and slightly disheartening. The books remind me that I have a long way to go before I can consider myself a good fiction writer. On a more optimistic note, I think of how all three writers started off on the same page (pun intended), staring at a blank word processing screen or blank sheets of paper.

Other motivating factors are the two novels I started before, works that make me cringe, even though I never showed them to anyone else (or finished them, for that matter). The first one was a reflection of me at age eighteen, realizing that writing and literary studies were my calling: nearly a hundred pages of ridiculous plot lines, intentionally hip, culture-savvy references, and painfully obvious urban characters. If Dave Eggers' talent was halved and he had a concussion, even he would not be able to come up with the stereotypically "lost" city dwellers that I created. My second attempt at a novel actually has a plot that I plan to return to in the future, but at twenty-one, I was still rambling. All of this was bad enough, but as a beginning writer, I was gleefully showing people my awful short stories, thinking they were good (Jeremy, I still silently thank you for humoring me when I was a college freshman). Had my two previous "novels" been seen by anyone, I would have been laughed out of every classroom I entered.

At this point, I feel that I'm a much better non-fiction writer, and this motivates me to devote equal parts daydreaming and actually job-hunting to find work in journalism. I run the risk of sounding like a curmudgeon, but I also felt disheartened when I read articles (written by paid, established writers) that were nothing but fluff and stereotype. Perhaps I should stop using Hotmail. Everytime I log out of my e-mail inbox, my browser automatically goes to MSN.com, and everytime, I find myself reading bad articles and becoming despondent. For example, take relationship articles, which are usually all the same: the author lets us know that men A.) don't talk about their feelings, B.) want to watch the Big Game, and C.) leave dirty socks all around the house. Women A.) love shoes!! B.) want to talk and talk and talk and C.) are always conniving to drag men to the opera. But did I mention shoes??!! That might be a poor example, because I'm not trying to become a relationship columnist. My point is that bad writing can be the norm, and while I know my skills need some developing, I also know that I could do better if given the chance.

At one point a few weeks ago, I moved beyond "sounding like a curmudgeon" and into actually being one. As I tortured myself while reading search engine features, an author began an article with "As a writer..." I wanted to scream and create an altar to David Foster Wallace and Joyce Carol Oates. Instead, I turned the computer off and sat in bed with one of my favorite books, James Joyce's Dubliners. As I read his stories, I felt happier. My mind immediately began returning to the readings and projects that I've been planning on doing, and as I started my research, I realized that it's healthier to focus on good writing instead of complaining about bad writing. As I continue my work, I'll keep in mind that all writers are connected, and the ones I've complained about were very much in the same position I was, trying to make their way in a very crowded field.

But a final message to relationship columnists: very few of us live in a world that resembles a romantic comedy. Can you try to move beyond cliches? Please?

I Was Just Wondering, That's All

Last week, during my usual daily browsing of sports websites (namely ESPN.com and the marginal coverage on MSN.com), I came across an article by Woody Paige, a columnist for The Denver Post and a regular contributor on ESPN's Around the Horn. In the column, he mentioned the hypothetical possibility of the Cleveland Indians trading Cliff Lee for the Colorado Rockies' Matt Holliday. I won't go into statistics, but I e-mailed Paige my thoughts on that scenario. I didn't have any major urge to do this; I saw a link to send a message to him, so I figured "what the hell?"

I forgot all about this, until I remembered this morning. I checked his website, and was pleasantly shocked to find that my e-mail was one of a few that he responded to this morning. Apparently, he wasn't in a good mood. And no, I am not the General Manager of the Cleveland Indians.

Click here.

2008 NBA Finals-- An Essay Preview

Last night, the Boston Celtics defeated the Detroit Pistons to set up a Finals series with the Los Angeles Lakers. I'm a major basketball fan, and while I anticipate a great series, I'm a little dismayed. With these two teams in the Finals, media outlets around the country are popping metaphorical bottles of champagne, and will be predicting, arguing, looking back, looking forward, comparing, and any other verb one can plug in. Within half an hour of the Celtics-Pistons game ending, ESPN was running the obligatory footage of past Celtics-Lakers Finals: Magic Johnson's hook shot, Larry Bird's sideline towel waving, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar's white glasses, Red Auerbach's cigar, Kurt Rambis' nasty hit, and the severe case of secondhand smoke that was the old Boston Garden. The series will easily be the most anticipated one since the 1990s. Last year, I was on vacation, and I was asked who I was rooting for between the Cleveland Cavaliers and the San Antonio Spurs. I couldn't offer anything more than a shrug. This year, I still have no deep, regional interest (read: the Chicago Bulls), but I'm looking forward to it, since the NBA is back. I will be rooting for the Lakers...more on this to follow.

What I will not be rooting for is the media coverage. Fans love to talk about an East Coast bias, and I suppose it will be reflected in the Boston Celtics, with journalists and sportscasters wondering if the Celtics can win their first championship since 1986 (if you pay any attention to the Finals this year, that will be one of a barrage of facts spewed hundreds of times). Another infuriating reflection has been in the advertising. Since the first round of the NBA playoffs, Gatorade has been running a nonstop commercial featuring Kevin Garnett. The theme is "be history, or make history," yet one can only conclude that the ad clearly assumes that Garnett and the Celtics will win the championship. With the ad being run constantly, I wonder what would have happened if the Atlanta Hawks had pulled off the upset in the first round. Would it still be running, or would the advertising executives have made a hasty replacement ad with Tim Duncan or Kobe Bryant?

Curiously, I'm very much looking forward to the sideline shots of the coaches, Doc Rivers and Phil Jackson. Throughout the playoffs, they have acted as total opposites. I can't remember a coach as animated (or pouty) as Rivers. Even as early as the second quarter of a given game, a call against the Celtics makes him jump and scream as if lives hang in the balance. How he doesn't get hit with more technical fouls is beyond me, at least just as a message to calm him down. While Jackson would probably be a great coach no matter how old he is, age is definitely catching up with him. He doesn't yell as much as he glares, sort of resembling an angry old man who has just been shortchanged at a sandwich shop. In all seriousness, one has to respect Rivers' coaching. Under a different, lesser one, the Celtics would probably have been eliminated weeks ago. Jackson likely has had the exact same style that he had in the early 1990s, but the Lakers haven't truly been challenged in the postseason yet. True, the Utah Jazz took them to six games, but did anyone really have any doubts that the Lakers would win that series?

If the Celtics win, I will be happy for one player: Paul Pierce. As awful as his teams have been lately, it's amazing that he wasn't traded years ago. With all respect to Garnett, Pierce is the definite face of the team. This is embarrassing to admit, but I was openly rooting for the Celtics in 2002, when they advanced to the Eastern Conference Finals. In my younger, misguided mind, I actually thought that the tandem of Pierce and Antoine Walker could win a championship. This was before Walker gained too much weight and primarily became known for shooting and missing way too many three-point shots. I'm sure that the Celtics management listened to many trade offers for Pierce, but they did a smart job of keeping him. Otherwise, the team would have been even worse before the trades for Garnett and Ray Allen.

I hesitate to make predictions, because I try to keep Chicago Ex-Patriate above a typical "blog." But, since this is a Finals preview, I'll do so. I pick the Lakers to win the 2008 NBA Finals in six games. The Lakers have a deeper bench, and I prefer Derek Fisher's playoff experience to Rajon Rondo's inexperience (all around) at point guard. Pau Gasol will have a major defensive challenge with Garnett, but that matchup will be fun to watch regardless, considering their previous tenures with losing teams. The obvious "x-factor" (as much as I loathe that term) is Kobe Bryant. I never thought I would ever write this about anybody, but he is the closest thing to Michael Jordan that we'll ever see (oh, how close he was to being a Bull in the off season). No player on the Celtics can take control of a game like Bryant. I envision at least one 45-50 point game from him, likely in Los Angeles, preferably with his team down two games to one. A game like that would turn the series in the Lakers' favor, even with a game six in Boston.

And a final note to the ABC camera people: Yes, we know that Jack Nicholson will be in attendance at the Staples Center. You don't need to show him every five minutes.

If You Have Not Sinned, Cast the First Cinematic Stone

For both the readers and contributors, the Production Design Blog-a-Thon was a terrific study of film, focusing on an aspect that could easily be overlooked, depending either the film in question or the viewer him/herself. The reasoning behind the project was essential--there are so many contributors to a given film, and sadly, many of them can easily be overlooked. The selected films represented diversity, from mainstream (Star Wars) to independent (George Washington); Old Hollywood (Frank Capra) to New Fantasy (Tim Burton). However, every submission was linked by a pure, gleeful love of movies (I choose these adjectives carefully. Re-read some of the contributions and try to tell me they're not accurate).

On another note, the project made me think of other films, ones that most of us wouldn't think to include in such a discussion. I used to call these films "guilty pleasures," but a friend of mine made a wonderful point: If you enjoy a certain film (or album), there should be no shame in admitting it. They are not guilty, merely pleasures. One person's Jean-Luc Godard is another person's Uwe Boll, and vice versa. My point is not to get into an argument of "high" or "low" cinema, but to rather keep the joy of film stirring, and to come clean in sharing some former "guilty pleasures." I have a strong love of foreign and independent cinema, but here are five movies that I heartily enjoy, and will gladly admit to everyone:

1.) "Happy Gilmore"
2.) "Death To Smoochy"
3.) "Must Love Dogs"
4.) "Doom" (videogame adaptation)
5.) "Scream"

Go ahead, give it a try. We all love films that will probably never appear on the Criterion Collection, and admitting this can be exhilarating.

Production Design Blog-a-Thon-- "Le Samourai"

Translation: "There is no greater solitude than that of the samurai, unless it is that of the tiger in the jungle...perhaps..." (Le Bushido, The Book of the Samurai)



Le Samourai (1967) Director: Jean-Pierre Melville/ Production Design and Set Decoration: Francois De Lamothe



My first viewing of Le Samourai was two years ago, and I picked it for this project because I remember looking back on it in terms of the overall look and "feel" of the production design. Having watched it again, I'm amazed at just how much the design works on both a literal level and an intangible level. It is credited to Francois De Lamothe, but one has to wonder how much of it was actually done by him, and how much was done by Melville, who always maintained extensive creative control over his films, going beyond writing and directing.



The opening shot above establishes Jef Costello's (the samurai) apartment, a bare, dark studio with very few objects. He is a man who lives by personal principles and an undefined (yet obvious) code of honor, so it's natural that his living space is just for that purpose: living. Scenes throughout the film show what he owns as far as basic necessities:

A bird for companionship (which also plays a crucial part in the plot);

Cigarettes, water, an alarm clock, and a telephone;

And the object he uses the most, his mirror. Everytime he leaves his apartment, he carefully makes sure he looks presentable, playing into his personal principles.

Early in the film, we see his girlfriend's apartment, and it's striking how clean and modern it is compared to his place. Virtually every other scene shows that he lives in a modern world, yet maintains an old-fashioned simplicity in his own world.

This apartment above (where his bosses meet and confer) is extremely gaudy and doesn't seem to match what a gangster's residence would look like on film. However, it's an excellent representation of excess. Some of the houses in Martin Scorsese's Goodfellas follow the same decor.

This is the garage where Jef takes stolen cars to have the license plates replaced. Other than his apartment, it's the only place in the film that seems run-down and shabby. His work as a contract killer takes him to lavish apartments and lounges, yet the places he consistently has to visit reflect the underworld of crime.

Lamps and lights are a constant in the film. As a killer, Jef relies on being hidden and in the background, yet is unafraid to have a spotlight. When he is under scrutiny or being questioned, he maintains a strong alibi, and the lights show that he appears to have nothing to hide. The single lights also remind me of interrogation scenes in countless police/crime movies and television shows.

The police lineup shot below is one of my favorites. In addition to keeping with the theme of spotlights, it introduces another recurring motif: lines. Whether vertical or horizontal, many of the scenes contain straight lines. I initially thought of a scene in Double Indemnity, where as a representation of guilt, Fred MacMurray is covered in the shadows of Venetian blinds, giving the impression of a jail cell. I'm not sure if that idea works for Jef, because he never feels guilt.

If we are indeed meant to think of jail cells in relation to lines, the above scene is the best representation of that.

The above shot shows Jef leaving his apartment for the first time. It might be hard to see in this image, but there is an excellent contrast. His hat and trenchcoat blend in to some of the buildings, but as he keeps walking, there are bright colors in the background. He's hidden and in plain sight at the same time.







The police Superintendent is often juxtaposed with maps of Paris (in another scene, he tracks Jef through the Parisian metro via spies and electronics, all while watching it on a large, illuminated map). As he investigates the nightclub owner's murder, he alternates between being very charismatic and very blunt. In his mind, he owns the city, and he doesn't believe that anybody can hide.

In the above scene, Jef visits the lounge's pianist. Aside from his behavior and the title of the film, these are the only other references to Japanese culture. The pianist wears a Japanese robe, and to her left appears to be a bust of a warrior. To me, this is smart filmmaking....if these were to appear in Jef's apartment, they would draw too much attention and clash with the minimalism of the apartment as well as his samurai code being reflected strictly through his actions.

The metro scenes also provide contrast, being extremely well-lit and lined with colorful advertisements. Jef does his best to lose the spies following him, despite being cornered and unable to hide in the open, vibrant spaces.

The only other film by Melville that I've seen is Bob le Flambeur, and while I plan on watching that one again as well, I don't remember being consciously aware of the production design. The beauty of Le Samourai is that the viewer has little things to process in addition to following the plot and dialogue. It's not a complicated film, but the attention to detail is remarkable.

As far as the costume design goes, it's important to note that most biographies of Jean-Pierre Melville mention his love of all things American. Jef is clearly modeled on American film noir, and he would easily fit into a movie like Out Of the Past or Public Enemy. However, his personality is strictly samurai. He's not loud or abrasive, but succinct and to the point.

The film also maintains a very modern look, and even today, does not appear terribly dated (with the exception of the police equipment). While there's no doubt that it's set in Paris in the 1960s, some films from that era are painfully obvious, whether it be the clothing or the objects in various stores and houses.

This trailer for the film shows how it looked during its initial release, thus showing how important digital restoration can be in relation to production design. While the notes and analysis that I've written here are still apparent, the scenes and cinematography seem less vibrant than they do on the DVD release. It also makes the film look extremely dated, contradicting my ideas in the above paragraph. The small details and backgrounds seem dulled. On DVD, we're seeing the film as it's meant to be seen.

(Note: Forgive the vast amount of blank space at the bottom of this posting. I was having a lot of formatting issues.)