So, after blowing an 8-point lead with two minutes to go against the Magic and phoning it in against the Spurs, the Knicks are now 0-2. Is it too early to call the season?
Month: November 2003
Neustadt’s End.
R.I.P. Richard Neustadt 1919-2003. His book Presidential Power was one of the first I read in college, and its argument still stays with me. He will be missed.
Secret Agent Man.
So I caught The Station Agent the other night and, while it’s not the type of film that’ll set the world on fire, it is an eminently enjoyable rumination on loneliness, friendship, and trains. (As such, it was also a movie worth seeing at the Angelika, since for once the omnipresent subway sounds below the theater added to the film experience.)
The Station Agent works best when it lets its three main characters — a distant (and distinctly short) train-enthusiast (Peter Dinklage), a divorced artist (Patricia Clarkson), and a gregarious food-vendor (the scene-stealing Bobby Cannavale) — hang out and get to relish each other’s company despite themselves. In these scenes, the movie has a nice, unforced air and a great sense of wit about it.
The train derails in the second half, however, when Agent feels the need to introduce dramatic tension by foisting “real life problems” on this funny trio…almost all of which come across as forced. (This is also the point in the film when the don’t-pick-on-little-persons consciousness-raising comes to the fore and, well, frankly I think I’m part of the problem. There’s a key scene where Dinklage ties one on at a local bar, jumps onto the counter, and angrily denounces the staring eyes all about him, and all I could think was “Wow, this is just like Bree…I wonder if Dinklage should’ve played Frodo.”) At any rate, despite the stock emotional issues wedged into the second act, the film ends well, returning to the low-key, believable, and funny tone of friendship that dictated the first hour, and all in all, The Station Agent makes for a good time at the movies. If nothing else, it’s worth catching on The Sundance Channel in a few months.
Boo…hiss.
Oh, yeah, I also saw Scary Movie 3, which was terrible. I love Airplane and Top Secret-type schtick as much as the next guy, but this one fails on all fronts. Not only was the audience not laughing most of the time, we weren’t even smiling (although Jeremy Piven admittedly has a few good scenes.) Anna Faris deserves better.
Party with Powhatan.
Williamsburg preps for Jamestown’s 400th birthday. I wonder if they’ll invite Roanoke.
A House Divided?
In a series of state-of-the-election polls, the Washington Post finds the Dems split on tactics and the nation split on Dubya. Only one year to go until the big show, folks.
The “Pocket Jeremiah.”
Consistently one of the most scintillating observers of the Supreme Court, Slate correspondent Dahlia Lithwick assesses Antonin Scalia and his recent decision to recuse himself from the Pledge of Allegiance case. “He is convinced that civilization is in decline and that this banishment of religion is directly responsible. He truly believes that the coarseness and callousness of modern mores and practices have imperiled us all. And if those beliefs make him sound more Jeremiah than Judge, well, Scalia would probably welcome the comparison.“
Artificial High?
In the wake of last quarter’s surprising economic growth, the Dems ponder calibrating their message on the Dubya economy. Hmm. I’d stay the course for now. A return to a sound economy is good news no matter what party you’re in, but still, one quarter does not a resurgence make. In the wake of mounting deficits and continuing job loss, let’s not let the tax-cut-junkies out there confuse a short-term high for real economic health.
Bat (and Spider) out of Hell.
“The God that holds you over the pit of hell, much as one holds a spider or some loathsome insect over the fire, abhors you, and is dreadfully provoked.” Non-sequiturs aside, the Hellboy site goes live. I don’t know much about the comic, to be honest, but so far, this still looks intriguing. Also in comic film news, Sony releases the Spiderman 2 poster…note the mini-Alfred Molina in Spidey’s eye.
Fighting Fire with Fire.
Along the lines of Esquire’s Indefensible Proposition column, Slate questions firefighters’ place in the pantheon. Hey, they said it.