February 19, 2004

Damn youuuuuuuuuuu cable TV! Stop showing Underworld! I am powerless to resist!

Posted by Sarah T. at 04:24 AM | Comments (3)


Awww, I love me some Big Clueless Quasi-Hetboy Clark.

As inevitable stalker episodes go, this was reasonably palatable. Plus, that Lex/Clark conversation was in the Season's Top Five Scenes Most Fun to Reinterpret in a Slashy Light.

Posted by Sarah T. at 01:34 AM | Comments (0)

February 16, 2004

Having seen it last night, I'm surprised at the vast wave of critical acclaim that Mystic River has gotten. I tend to attribute it to a still-predominantly-male critical establishment's sympathy for the choked and stunted emotional life of the traditional American blue-collar male which it depicts.

Admittedly, I tend to react to that depiction with frustration and anger rather than sympathy, but the problem with Mystic River isn't its subject. It's its tone. Mystic River is about as relentlessly grim as The Seventh Seal, but as the material is slighter, to say the least, the result is heavy and sententious rather than gloriously ruthless. The characters are scarcely allowed to breathe, so that very few of them seem alive, despite strong efforts by the actors. (Being required to shift from muttered tough-guy talk to well-shaped phrases about the cruelty and frustration of life doesn't help the male characters, either.) In some places, the cinematography is wonderfully evocative and atmospheric; in others, it lapses into jarring cliche. The score is literally one-note (or, I should say, four-note), to the point that it actually became annoying.

There's a real story in Mystic River, and real characters laboring to get out from under the oppressive hand of the direction. It wasn't a bad movie, just woefully misguided. It's painful to see such hard work and thought by all involved be so wasted.

Posted by Sarah T. at 06:02 PM | Comments (0)

February 12, 2004


Well, with this episode, SV continues to build on its strong tradition of inexplicably and unbelievably sucky February sweeps eps. The relationship between November and May sweeps and February is sort of the entire series in minature, when I think about it--they have a strong and sure beginning and a great ending in mind, but, boy, sometimes in between, things can get a little ugly.

Posted by Sarah T. at 02:00 AM | Comments (0)

February 09, 2004


is a CPR slut, man.

That's pretty much all I have to say about that episode.

Posted by Sarah T. at 09:37 PM | Comments (0)

February 08, 2004

Memo to awards-show producers everywhere: "Hey Ya" is an almost ludicrously catchy tune, but you can't all use it for your promos. There is such a thing as over-exposure.

The Station Agent is a quiet character piece about a little person who inherits an abandoned train depot in the wilds of New Jersey and decides to move there. James Dinklage turns in an intriguing performance as the trainwatcher and "very simple, boring guy" whose physical condition seems to forever deny him the anonymity he desperately craves. The film is a loving visual depiction of the raggedest edge of suburbia and some rather ragged people. There's a good deal of wry humor. It does feel a little slight--there's a real lack of traditional plot or climax, and even the characters' through-lines are understated--but given that it's only an hour and a half, it doesn't overstay its welcome. Worth giving a shot, or at least renting if it's ever released.

Posted by Sarah T. at 03:22 AM | Comments (1)

February 07, 2004

"You have BROKEN the chain and the COVENANT. You MUST be JUDGED!"

Oh, my God. When I was twelve, Underworld would've been THE BEST MOVIE EVER.

Posted by Sarah T. at 04:40 PM | Comments (0)

February 05, 2004

I slept through SV tonight. I have it on tape, but let's just say I'll be covering my fannish eyes til I have the chance to watch it.

I caught America's Next Top Model last night, and it was surprisingly hilarious. Maybe it's not right, but I find it a lot easier to laugh when Tyra Banks picks on stunningly gorgeous girls than at the typical abuse ladled out on losers on most competition shows. "You need to go down by the dock and see what the hookers wear...and then not wear it," was the advice a fashion consultant gave one of the girls, right in front of all the others. (It's more than a little ironic, though, to see how constantly they emphasize they're looking for a "model, not a street model," someone "glamorous, not trampy," when by middle America's standards, most things the all-exalted models wear are pretty damn trampy.) Tyra Banks is a lot more of a presence than I would have guessed, and her willingness to make fun of her old photoshoots is oddly appealing. If you have an hour to kill, there are worse ways.

I can't believe they may be delaying the airing of "Starcrossed" to July. The hell?

Posted by Sarah T. at 02:29 AM | Comments (0)