No artist is pleased. There is no satisfaction at anytime.
There is only a queer, divine dissatisfaction,
a blessed unrest keeps us marching and makes us more alive than others.
-- Martha Graham to Agnes De Mille
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2002-05-29 - 9:47 a.m.

Velvet Pi: A Movie Report in two parts

So last night we did not watch Waiting for Guffman, alas.

We did watch two drastically contrasting movies, which I will briefly review for your reading pleasure. (Cause that's just the kind of guy I am)

First we watched Pi. It kicked so much ass. For those not in the know, it's an independant film, (made on a $60,000 budget) that won some kind of award at Sundance. Whatever the award was it deserved it.

It was smart, it was compelling, it was brilliantly edited. The writing was good, the dialogue was good, the acting was great, the characters were real and alive. I was recently reminded that it's difficult for an author to write a character more intelligent than themselves. Whoever wrote this is freaking smart.

It deals with a mathemitician who's looking for patterns in pi and other universal constants (actually the big revelation comes out of theta, not pi, but I guess theta doesn't have the same kind of recognition as pi does (Mmmmm...pi)). I'm pretty sure that the movie is at least partly based on that guy I wrote about last week. Down to patterns in black and white on a Go board.

It's kind of weird how this concept of relatively simple mathematical patterns underlying all of reality has come at me from several different directions within the course of a few weeks. Of course, it's not exactly a new idea, just more insight into an old idea. Anyhoo, I also found this on the web today, just for people who dig legos.

Long story short. See Pi. It kicks ass.

Next up we watched Velvet Goldmine. I cannot begin to tell you how bad this movie is. It sucks so much ass it could open a liposuction clinic. This is by far the worst movie I've seen in a very, very, very long time.

It's about some glam rock guys (I think. They apparently didn't have enough budget for a plot, after spending it all on ridiculous sets and costumes) and the rise and fall of a big star, and his sexual relationships with women, men, household pets, blowup dolls, and I think at one point a cactus. Oh yeah, and there's something at the start about Oscar Wilde being an alien (I shit you not). Most of the movie is like a glam rock video. A really bad glam rock video. For a really bad glam rock song.

We kept watching because we kept thinking to ourselves "It can't go on being this bad. It *has* to get better somewhere." It never did.

I can't go on. I can't. Run, don't walk, away from this movie. It's not quite "I'd pay money to have the memory of it erased from my brain" bad like The Sixth Day was, but it's damned close.

And that, kiddies was the Wednesday morning movie report. Have a happy Hump Day.

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