Media Room: Portland Ghost Basement

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One of the major hubs for fiber-optic cables carrying the Internet to most homes and businesses in the Pacific Northwest is located in the basement of a building in Portland, Oregon. Nothing terribly surprising there. Except that one Cabel Maxfield Sasser went down there and took some photographs of the walls:

The roar of the presses that ruled these rooms has been replaced, just as we all suspected, with the calculated silence of the conduit that carries our data. This data, in fact. These very photos.

basement2Sasser imagines that this room was once where the printing presses for The Oregonian were located, and that as pages came off press, the workers yanked the occasional one off and plastered them on the walls.

According to Poynter, this explanation is probably not very likely. Which leaves the question: who scribbled these notes on the wall and left these ghostly images of women staring out at us? And why does the silence of the Internet resonate so strongly with the (imagined) roar of those old ink-and-paper presses?

 

New in Theaters: ‘Promised Land’

promised-land-posterMatt Damon and John Krasinski’s film about natural gas salespeople and anti-frackers is getting a limited release just before the end of the year; it’s playing in a very few places now but is worth looking for when it expands wider in January:

“You’re the natural gas people.” That’s how folks identify Steve (Matt Damon) and Sue (Frances McDormand). There’s a lot to unpack in that assessment, and Gus Van Sant’s Promised Land is smart enough to take most of its running time to do so, spinning a clever moral comedy at the same time. In those few words are contained just about every element, from hope to greed to fear and anxiety, that makes up the emotive froth of American malaise, circa 2012…

My full review is at PopMatters.

You can see the trailer here:

Department of Year-End Reading: December 28, 2012

  • rockwell-bookworm1Things we have learned: Armed civilians do not and cannot stop mass shootings.
  • The mixed-faith crowd of Egyptians who defended the local synagogue.
  • Some books to look forward to in 2013.
  • Reasons that shopping and fish don’t mix.
  • “The future is a work in progress” and other musings on apocalypti.
  • So why would anybody want to read your correspondence posthumously?
  • The year that was and the year that wasn’t.
  • Christmas Day in Newtown.

New in Theaters: ‘The Impossible’

theimpossible-posterIn the based-on-a-true-story melodrama The Impossible, Ewan McGregor and Naomi Watts play a married couple who must fight to survive the aftermath of the 2004 tsunami:

The film flits between the two knots of survivors, contrasting the parents’ heartsick dread of the unknown with their children’s more pragmatic reasoning and straightforward terror. Despite the script’s hacky tendencies the movie repeatedly comes up with devastatingly effective visuals. It underscores how awful it is not to know. At times, particularly in one nerve-rattling sequence where Maria is being flung this way and that by underwater currents, with shadowy objects stabbing out of the murk like vengeful ghosts, it becomes almost unbearable to watch…

The Impossible is playing now in semi-limited release. My full review is at PopMatters.

You can view the trailer here:

Department of Holiday Cheer

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How’s your 2012 been? Happy to have survived the Mayan apocalypse?

More importantly, did you finish your shopping? Either way, here’s a consideration from the New Yorker circa 1970, in which a certain “Christmas Consultant” ponders what a good gift for a guy could be:

My list would include useful gifts, like a matched, color-coördinated, full-fashioned set of pre-written thank-you letters. Such a pleasant gift, and so easy to use. Upon receiving a gift—let’s say a myna bird trained to say “You’re wonderful, Fred,” or “Joe,” or “Pierpont”—one would merely use the efficient index system provided and come up with a pre-written note that said something like “I can’t begin to describe to you the emotion which welled up inside of me when I first heard Precious Myna chirp out, ‘You’re wonderful, Fred,’ or ‘Joe,’ or ‘Pierpont.’” There is, you see, a crying need for a pre-written note in such circumstances, since no self-respecting fellow, however practiced in hypocrisy, could possibly bang one out for himself.

Whatever your gift-giving situation, or views on the Mayan apocalypse that wasn’t, you should take a snow day—we’ve all earned it:

New in Theaters: ‘West of Memphis’

westofmemphis-posterOn Christmas Day, amidst all the other award-hopeful films, one documentary that’s small in budget but massive in scope opens in limited release; it’s well worth seeking out:

Without Joe Berlinger and Bruce Sinofsky’s trilogy of Paradise Lost documentaries, most of the world would never have heard of the West Memphis Three. But when all is said and done, Amy Berg’s impactful film might ultimately stand the test of time as the true document of the case and its hair-raising implications for justice in America…

My full review is at Film Journal International.

The trailer is here:

New in Theaters: ‘Django Unchained’

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Opening Christmas Day (because, well, why not?) is the newest tongue-in-cheek Tarantino genre-stew:

With his bloodily entertaining but tonally sloppy Django Unchained, the always fastidious Quentin Tarantino may finally be loosening up. This development could help broaden his appeal in the short run, his newest film being the kind of straightforward blend of humor and self-aware ultra-violence that plays pretty well to many different audiences these days. (In other words, expect few of the tricky narrative gambits that have defined his work in the past; this one’s more about doing maximum damage with six-shooters.) Unfortunately, a less formally inhibited Tarantino may turn out to be a less entertaining filmmaker…

My full review is at Film Journal International.

You can see the trailer here:

 

Bonus holiday fun—check out the trailer for the 1966 original Django, which Tarantino lifted the theme music from (but, sadly, not the Gatling gun in the coffin):