BillSaysThis

Just finished watching the Fiesta Bowl with Ohio State needing two overtime drives to beat Miami 31-24. What a game! On any given day, the Trojans might be able to beat either of these teams but you have to give the Buckeyes and the Hurricanes credit. A big disapointment as I was rooting for a very large Hurricane margin of victory but Ohio State made plays on defense–interceptions, forced fumbles, and, finally, a goal line stand that ended the year in college football. USC, regardless of the ass kicking they gave Iowa last night, cannot and will not move ahead of either team in the final rankings. Congratulations to the Buckeyes for the win and to Miami for an awesome season.

Or maybe sooner, since these things seem to be fairly fluid. I wonder if Costco, the best source of discounted harcovers I know about, will be carrying it. Oh yeah, the novel is called Pattern Recognition and the page linked to the title has a short description plus an excerpt (from Gibson’s own website). [via Slashdot]

Gibson is a generally amazing author and this book includes, at least in some small way, his reaction to 9/11. He’s most famous for Neuromancer–he coined the term cyberspace in the book, published in 1984 long before that which we currently call the Internet existed–which was his first novel and won all the major awards for which the book was eligible except the Pulitzer. Should have won the Pulitzer too but the judges are doofii. This book, along with the works of Phillip K. Dick, were probably most directly responsible for the cyberpunk movement in science fiction from about 1988 forward.

He also co-wrote a novel called The Difference Engine (with Bruce Sterling) that spawned the steampunk movement; steampunk combined alternate history and cyberpunk into a new strain. A great novel which asked the question how different life would have been if Charles Babbage and Lady Ada had been able to implement their computer plans in the 19th century.

Not to leave out the most American of modern media, Gibson also wrote the short story, and then the screenplay, for Keanu Reeve’s underrated movie Johnny Mnemonic. Most of Reeve’s films are less well appreciated by most people than I would have it, though.

I saw Gibson make an appearance at a local bookstore a few years back. He read a short excerpt from Idoru but the bulk of the session was devoted to Q&A. What I found interesting is that he doesn’t really consider himself a science fiction author but rather an author who happens to use elements of scientific and social speculation to draw out truths of human nature. You’d never know Gibson was an MFA working on his professorship when Neuromancer hit like a sledgehammer. Wink wink.

I expect this will be a novel I give a solid recommended or better rating. Gibson just has… a way with words. A way I surely envy.

Just finished watching the Orange Bowl and saw my alma mater USC just destroy the allegedly superior Iowa Hawkeyes 38-17. The game started off looking bad–Iowa ran the opening kickoff back for a touchdown–but USC marched right back for an answering score. After trading field goals the rest of the first half, the Trojans took charge right from the start of the third quarter, scoring 28 unanswered points before giving up a garbage touchdown with 34 seconds left in the game. Carson Palmer versus Brad Banks? Palmer went 21 of 31 for 304 yards and a touchdown versus 15 of 36 for 206 yards and one touchdown and one interception for Banks, not even close considering that 80 of Banks’ yards came on that last drive.

Cowboys owner Jerry Jones will probably admit to being a fisherman, when he can take a break from roaming the sidelines at Texas Stadium, and today he landed a world class catch in his boat: Bill Parcells signed a four year, $17.1 million contract to coach the Cowboys. Reportedly, the key points were not money (Parcells asked for and got the average of the top five coaching salaries) but control. The Tuna wanted to make sure he could get the system in place he believes is necessary to control his own fate and so he will hire and fire assistants and have a strong voice in player decisions, two things Jones has not given any coach. In any case, America’s Team is still a financial dream, even after three 5-11 seasons, making money hand over fist; the team even printed a few hundred t-shirts celebrating the new arrival.

Fact: Returning to the grind means Parcells has been removed from the current NFL Hall of Fame ballot. Prediction: Parcells will fail to turn things around much after two seasons (6-10, 8-8/9-7 but no playoffs), then ride back out of town with a flush bank account and renewed health issues. He should still make it to Canton in, say, 2006.

Lots of good smaller stuff coming around this year too. Check out the preview at Box Office Prophets.

And now that we’ve put up the new wall calendar, I split the Big Movies listings into two pages: 2003 and 2004+.

New Year’s Day – together we mark a new birth

that may well bring much that is good to so many.

Though the cynic in me says life is, ha!, not so easy.

Yesterday we worried what the dropping ball might bring

and sighed with relief that our fears were overblown.

Next week, next month, next moon, tears may yet flow

once again and today’s good cheer be forgotten.

But I will not lay back in my chair and take these

pains to heart before they come to life, I will stay my course.

Ride on, though there be cares aside me.

The house, this street, all is quiet on New Year’s Day.

I called around to ask family and friends for what words

of wisdom they could share, so much love in their voices,

good cheer, makes me sit up tall and proud and yet…

Yet there are dark clouds inside these wintry skies

That still may bring pain and punishment, tearing,

to me and these voices filled with so much love.

No matter, I ride on to find the good that always will out.

Inspired by garret’s posting of a Mark Twain letter for today. Did this last year too, maybe a new tradition for me.

Byron called mid-afternoon and asked if we were interested in seeing the much talked-about Nicholson flick. Sure, what the heck, it was either this or the Tennessee-Maryland matchup in the Peach Bowl. And as I walk in the door, the score is 27-3 Terps, so who cares about missing that. Thursday, with my Trojans up against Iowa, that will not be missed.

About Schmidt is a terrific movie and if Jack Nicholson doesn’t win the Oscar, some people made a big mistake. Using the Golden Globe nominees as a proxy, one is hardpressed to see him lose to this competition. His decision to take this role follows a recent trend for big name actors to play against type (Robin Williams, Tom Hanks) and, as with those two, Schmidt shows just how good an actor Nicholson truly is. As my buddy point, a very layered acting job where much of the communication comes through subtle body language.

I would also give kudos to writer/director Alexander Payne (Election, Citizen Ruth) for an outstanding job; this movie is very real, so very un-Hollywood, and most filmmakers wouldn’t be able to make a gripping movie about real life. Plus, the trailer for the film doesn’t give away all the best lines or really give away the point like so many others do. Very deliberate choices in shot selection and visual composition, very calm and deliberate pacing. And one aspect which I took to be just a plot device to enable exposition turned out to be crucial to the final twist and resolution.

A Must See

Just stupid. A Montana man who was legally Bob Craft until, in late 1997, he changed his name to Jack Ass is now suing Viacom (parent of MTV) for defamation and wants $10 million in damages. He’s concerned that people will confuse the MTV show and movie of the same name with him and his good works. As if anyone stupid enough to call himself Jack Ass, whatever the reasons, could be defamed.

Despite a 0-16 road record (5-27 overall), coach Marty Mornhinweg and president Matt Millen have been given a third year by owner William Clay Ford to run the Detroit Lions. Why would be a good question but you know that kind of honesty will not be forthcoming. Maybe Ford figured he’ll make the same money anyway, from attendance and TV, and won’t have to buy out expensive contracts.

“Geez, Stu, we’re supposed to have this greeting down already–it has to go out on the wires before midnight! What we’re we thinking, taking this job on. But that woman, she sure is hot. She can convince us to do anything.”

“Bro, you are way to high strung! How did we ever get to be twins?”

“Oh that helps a lot! Come on, sit down and let’s get to work on this message. We need to cut 284 pages down into a moving, snappy greeting.”

“Arggh! Okay, write this down: 2003, gonna be lots o’ loving, hope you get yours!”

“Please, be serious. We can’t send that out to anyone. Man, I just now we’re going to miss the deadline. Just because you sweep into town and sell one lousy script, you think you know everything.”

“Whatever. At least I’m getting laid. Man, those starlets can be yummy.”

“Focus already. And don’t forget I won an Oscar for my first movie.”

“Sure, I know. And, hey, I do love you bro. Here’s our greeting:

“From Bill and Stu to everyone: Happy New Year, and may 2003 be better be happier, more satisfying, and more joyful than any year you’ve already lived!”

Just wrong: The New York Times previews the possibility of the Giants and Jets meeting in the Super Bowl in an article entitled Subway Bowl Definitely a Can-Do. Subway Bowl my ass! Neither team has played a home game in the state or city of New York in over 20 years but the fans and team executives refuse to accept reality. I remember that back in the ’80s there was a push in the NJ state legislature to require any team playing its home games in a facility owned by the state to use NJ in their official designation. The Jets, especially, panicked and brought all the muscle they could to bear on the politicians, and the issue died. But to go so far as to call this a possible Subway Bowl is absurd even for the Times! Wouldn’t the New Jersey Bowl be more appropriate?

A sweet coming of age story, the 1990 Australian film Flirting features Noah Taylor and Thandie Newton (her movie big role) as two naive yet brainy teenagers (think good looking brainiacs) at prep school who fall in love but are torn apart by events larger than they understand in middle of nowhere, Australia, in 1965. The pair think that reading Camus and Sartre mean they understand the world, that everything they do is so serious and fraught with meaning, only to learn that 16 is truly a very young age.

Taylor (most recently he was Lara Croft’s computer geek) and Newton (Mission: Impossible 2 and The Truth About Charlie), close enough in age to their characters, easily convey the missteps and emotions that clutter young love. Nicole Kidman is the older girl who at first is mean to Newton but in the end softens when she sees her own past reflected and Naomi Watts has a small part as one of Newton’s close friends. Newton’s character is from Uganda and her father is a political activist who goes home when Idi Amin’s coup happens; she’s soon forced to follow and before she leaves the couple find a way to say goodbye that neither will forget.

Flirting is a very sweet movie until writer/director John Duigan (Sirens) pushes past the point of good taste to teach his children their lesson. Before that, one can see that Duigan is a stylist, using fantasy and photographs to connect this little pair of schools to the larger world, having one of Taylor’s classmates laugh incessantly, appropriate or not, to bring some relief to the barely relieved seriousness. This is film as literature, a movie that would never be understood in Hollywood, and a good example of why I’m glad Tivo believes I like Australian films.

Recommended

So here I go again, no matter who says don’t do it: Bill’s Best of 2002.

Ready for another fun off-season? The last regular season game doesn’t start for another seven hours and the hijinks have started already!

Tyrone Willingham announced on Saturday he won’t help the league solve it’s minority hiring problems by leaving Notre Dame after one year. And why would he, since he won ten games and restored respectability with players recruited by Bob Davies? Jerry Jones (doesn’t he have an oil business to run?) hasn’t fired Dave Campo but is already interviewing replacements. He’s met twice with Bill Parcells but–oops!–Tampa Bay claims they own the Tuna’s rights and any team that wants to talk or sign him owes the Bucs compensation; Jones met lose a draft pick just for this tampering, which won’t help the Cowboys recover from a third straight 5-11 season with or without Campo. Jones has also interviewed ex-Vikings coach Denny Green but only on the phone and this is causing a ruckus of its own, since at least one group is claiming this is an attempt to wiggle around the NFL’s commitment to consider minority candidates for every open coaching and GM spot.

Meanwhile, the executions are underway as well. Cincinnati fired Dick LeBeau, Jacksonville dumped Tom Coughlin, the only coach they’ve ever had, and (as I was writing this) Dallas booted Campo. I feel sorriest for LeBeau, who had a miserable record but could only barely be held responsible; the real culprit is GM Mike Brown and he can’t be fired since he also owns the team. Though this year’s 2-14 was the worst ever for the franchise, the team has had years of poor drafts, lots of injuries, and a complete inability to sign decent free agents. I’ve read that other owners and team executives have urged Commissioner Tagliabue to step in and make Brown hire a real GM but so far that hasn’t happened. The Bengals haven’t made the playoffs since Brown took over and you can bet that won’t change next year, no matter who comes in as coach.

Coughlin didn’t want to leave but the Jaguars have crashed to earth after making the strongest debut of any expansion team in NFL history, going 19-29 and not reaching the playoffs once in the past three years. The decision will cost owner Wayne Weaver serious money because of provisions in Coughlin’s contract, which has two years still to run, plus he reportedly wants the new man to have previous head coaching experience: the short list on ESPN.com is Denny Green, Oklahoma’s Bob Stoops (who turned down big money offers last year after winning the national title), and recent perennial candidate for every opening Nick Saban from LSU. What the Jags really need are a new starting quarterback and running back tandem who can stay healthy for more than eight games a year. And a GM who isn’t also the coach, which rarely makes for a winning team.

Dallas is another tough spot for a proven coach to take on. Dave Campo, Chan Gailey, Barry Switzer, Jimmy Johnson, win or not, none of them has been able to overcome the ego of Jerry Jones. One wonders if Parcells is really interested in the job, where he couldn’t be GM or even have real personnel control, or if this is mostly a ploy on his part to let other owners with openings know he’s ready to return. (By the way, the Cowboys have a s-l-l-o-o-o-w-w-w-w website!)

There’s gonna be more changes, you just know it. Will Holmgren get the boot in Seattle? Owner Paul Allen may be distracted by his dizzying corporate maneuvers and the Trailblazers but this team hasn’t made the playoffs lately and 7-9 doesn’t look so good hanging up on a banner all winter. How about Schottenheimer in San Diego? From 6-1 to missing the playoffs at 8-8, another year, another collapse, but this is Marty’s first year at the helm and he will almost surely get a break. Martz in St. Louis is a tossup but possibly dependent on how well he and his bosses see the personnel lining up for 2003.

Good bets to be gone are the Detroit duo of Marty Mornhinweg and chief executive Matt Millen; though the team was starting to look good with rookie QB Joey Harrington, his season ended early with an injury and owner William Ford will probably look for a more seasoned head coach and a less, um, forceful, GM. John Fox was probably safe anyway, it being his first year and the team being riddled with injuries at QB and running back, but four late wins to end at 7-9 make that a lock. Not so safe is fellow NFC South coach Jim Hazlett, whose Saints lost a playoff spot by ending the year with losses to Minnesota (forgivable), Cincinnati (those two wins had to come from some where), and Fox’s Panthers (unforgivable with a chance to get back into the post-season and only two field goals to show for the effort).

The CoachingGoRound starts again!

For a cheap date, we went to see Friday After Next last night at the CinemaSaver over in Milpitas, $3 a ticket. Not a bad movie for the price but being stoned would have probably made it a lot funnier. Ice Cube and Mike Epps are back as the cousins, complaining about lack of money and a lack of honeys, and their dads are back, complete with bathroom jokes, partnered in a BBQ joint (“The food is so good you’ll slap your momma” is their slogan).

Good for HBO

All four teams I favor have made it into the second season: 49ers, Giants, Raiders, and Jets. And Cleveland! Which is cool because it means the Patriots go home early. Yesterday was fun, although a little nerve-wracking as the crapo referees took away two Giants touchdowns with bad holding calls. The Raiders just toyed with the Chiefs all afternoon; they used the monsoon to get their first shutdown in 85 games against them. The 49ers don’t play until tomorrow but their result is meaningless now and the biggest need is to avoid injury, which means that Tim Rattay, Paul Smith, and Cedric Wilson should get a lot of playing time–they even get a break with the scheduling as they’ll host the late game on Sunday. The Jets destroyed the Packers, which was a joyful outcome, and completed an amwesome turnaround from a 1-4 start.

Lois McMaster Bujold is one of the top science fiction authors today and certainly one of my current favorites. Eleven of her novels, the first published in 1986, have focused on the life and career of Miles Vorkosigian, physcially challenged son of the second most prominent family on the planet Barrayar. His life has taken him all over the human-settled universe (called the Nexus) posited by Bujold; his activities leading a mercenary band and as an acknowledged soldier and, more recently, freelance representative (think combination Minister without Portfolio and Supreme Court Justice) of the Barrayaran Empire have brought him close to (and once back from) death.

Diplomatic Immunity takes place as Miles and new wife Ekaterina on the return leg of their honeymoon, beginning with a vague note from his boss the Emperor that sends them to Quaddiespace so Miles can resolve a potentially costly standoff. Quaddies are humans genetically altered to have four arms with the extra pair where you and I have legs; they were originally developed before (in this future) artificial gravity was developed and when their corporate masters attempted to throw them out as so much trash, escaped to make their own home–this was the subject of Bujold’s first novel, Falling Free.

Many of her loyal readers were wondering, hopefully, if Bujold would ever bring the Quaddies back and she tells a great story here that makes great use of them. Barrayarans are prejudiced against any person who is not fully, naturally human–Miles’ own physical differences, caused by his mother’s being poisoned while pregnant, have been a major source of difficulty through the years–and the Quaddies, with arms instead of legs, bring the attitude out in force. Which brings a blanket resentment and distrust of Miles and the Barrayarans from the Quaddies.

The first order of business is to reconstruct the sequence of events that necessitated Miles’ presence. The Admiral in charge of the trade fleet has one point of view and the Quaddie officials quite another. In the end, the explanation is quite different, involving Barrayar’s main opposing polity, the Cetagandans. Before the resolution, Miles is nearly assassinated when the villain (identity not known at the time) uses a power riveter as a machine gun and then later nearly dies after being poisoned with a bioweapon. Though to the surprise of no reader, he and Ekaterina make it home in time to attend the birth of their twins. Reproduction is different in the future.

Bujold has done a really good job here, matching smart opponents, bringing in the long-desired Quaddies, bringing back a major character we haven’t seen in many books (the Betan hermaphrodite Bel Thorn), and furthering the Barrayaran-Cetagandan relationship. The writing is familiar and, as usual, somewhat more dependant on exposition than really desirable. And I know that even though it will probably be 2004 at least before the next Vorkosigian novel appears, I’ll be jumping to read it.

Definitely recommended

A John Williams composition that sounds more like Henry Mancini and a cartoonish title animation that’s heavily reminiscent of the Pink Panther’s set a breezy tone for Steven Spielberg’s Christmas Candy confection, Catch Me if You Can. They’ve even recreated the old game show What’s My Line? with our boy as the mystery guest. But unlike the candy, this film is not just sweet empty calories but a terrific entertainment; quite a surprise since most recent movies based on true stories, as this one is, are terrible.

Leonardo DiCaprio plays Frank Abagnale Jr., an extremely smart 16 year old from the New York City suburbs who freaks out when his parents (Christopher Walken and Nathalie Baye) split up. Instead of choosing a parent to live with, Frank runs away. He begins to impersonate almost anyone, starting with airline pilots, and to forge checks and other useful documentation. Smart or not, one bit that shouldn’t have been left out is how someone his age learned how to do this.

After awhile–long enough for the boy to scam enough to buy his bankrupt dad a new Cadillac–he attracts the attention of Carl Hanratty of the FBI’s Bank Fraud squad. This is a very interesting role for Tom Hanks, quite opposite the killer of Road to Pertition. Hanratty is the quintessential workaholic, he’s left his (since remarried) wife and young daughter behind, and is even in the office when Abagnale calls him on Christmas. 15 years ago Hanks made a Dragnet movie and he, without going over the top, almost takes Dan Ackroyd’s Joe Friday as his model for this role.

The con, and the pursuit, go on, with the capture almost made time after time. What drives Hanratty the most seems to be his inability to outwit a teenager. Spielberg emphasizes this by coming back, again and again, as Hanratty asks Abagnale how he cheated to pass the bar exam in Louisiana; this just doesn’t seem to be something that the boy could talk his way through. After his stint as a co-pilot who never actually takes the controls, our hero decides to settle down for awhile as a doctor in Georgia–he talks his way into a supervisory position that doesn’t require him to put hands on a patient.

While there he meets and falls for a lovely blonde (Brenda, played by Amy Adams) and, although the audience never sees this, presumably senses that his time is running short. He asks Brenda to marry him, she is all over the idea, and they’re off to visit her parents. Daddy’s (Martin Sheen) a district attorney in New Orleans, so Abagnale mentions he has a law degree in addition to his M.D. and sure enough the next month he’s working as an assistant DA.

But all good things, the vision of familial love he so desires and sees in the Strongs, are illusory to an 18 year old. Hanratty has tracked him down to the huge engagement party the Strongs put on and he has to run. He wants to take the girl with him but she’s too weak and he flees to Europe in the company of eight comely young wanna-be stewardesses. The chase needs to conclude and so we aren’t shown the escapades on the Continent, just told that there is more than enough to get Hanratty on a plane to France for a final confrontation.

Interspersed through the film have been short scenes of Abagnale’s French prison and flight back to America courtesy of Uncle Sam. Arriving at LaGuardia Airport, he makes one more escape only to find that the reason for all of his efforts the past three years have been for nothing, and just like with Humpty Dumpty, the pieces couldn’t be put back together again. To be honest, I would have ended the movie right there, with DiCaprio running on the tarmac, but the story continues as we see imprisonment and eventual redemption by using his understanding of bank fraud as an employee of the FBI.

Another change I would have made, to cut Catch Me from 140 minutes to 100: The movie opens with over 30 minutes of buildup to his departure, which does give us a very solid grounding in our protagonist and his motivation, but one thinks a director as skilled as Spielberg could have cut this act in half without sacrificing any clarity. Certainly, one can’t hold the screenwriter, Jeff Nathanson too accountable–this is his first serious production, since I would barely count Rush Hour 2 and Speed 2 not at all.

One observation: DiCaprio is great as Abagnale but I wonder just how long he’ll be able to get away with playing teenage roles. His next part, not yet in production is the title character in Baz Luhrman’s Alexander the Great. Much of the meat of the story takes place before the Macedonian king’s 21 birthday.

Definitely recommended

The unstoppable gravitational pull of the future landed another right hook this week with the announcement (to be taken with a large grain of salt, until confirmed) that the Raelians have created a human baby through cloning. Jason Levine, however, strains credulity by expecting strict rationality from a cult that believes Humanity was brought to Earth 25,000 years ago by aliens AND that was founded in France. Jason, thanks for the laugh.