I've been a bad, bad blogger

I know! I know! Kathleen is shouldering this beautiful load all by herself. Aileen and I come in every 3 months and sprinkle some fairy dust and call it a day. It's not fair. It's just that I can't write when I don't feel true to myself. And I often don't feel true to myself.

The other day Aileen asked me what creative outlets I have. Urm...creative? I told her that I've been writing really bad poetry, which is true. Emphasis on BAD. As for movies, I don't think that Season 5 of Grey's Anatomy counts as good filmmaking so I can't review that.

But I have been moved. Here are some things that I've been moved by recently:
1. The comics of Jaime Hernandez, specifically--Love and Rockets. Sometimes bi-sexual punk rocker Latina roommates living in So Cal? Yes please!
2. Fiona Apple--either Aileen or another good friend forwarded me a Fiona Apple interview in which she said something like "Every girl in fucking America has an eating disorder." I watch Criminal on youtube upwards of 5x daily.
3. Jacob Have I Loved. Young adult fiction is so good. So good because is teaches you a Lesson and not many teach as well as Katherine Paterson. I have definitely subjected more than a few people to a very detailed plot synopsis of this gem. Damn, it's good. Paterson respects her audience and she writes about really weighty subjects--but never gratuitiously. 14 y/o girl falls for a 70 y/o man and hates her perfect twin sister? Paterson never makes it trashy but she doesn't skimp on details.
4. Ciara--the princess is here! I'm really confused because Ciara was amazing. What happened to her? 1,2 Step, Oh, My Goodies, and Like a Boy were pitch perfect. And she's one of the best dancers of our generation. She breaks AND pops and locks. (she might be better than Janet...I say this in an apologetic whisper) And Like a Boy is a BETTER VERSION OF BEYONCE'S LIKE A MAN SONG. Why? Oh Why do we have B and not Ciara?
5. The Ichigeki performance at Battle of the Year 2005. In 2006-7 I was obsessed with breakdancing and I watched Planet BBoy everyday. Or nearly everyday. Or parts of it everyday. Point is--I watched it a lot. Recently, I rewatched the Ichigeki performance. It's amazing. Maybe it's because you don't often see Asian men being lauded for athleticism or something. But this performance moved mountains. It's part break dance part interpretive dance. I will even forgive their using Linkin Park for part of the performance. Sometimes foreigners just don't understand.
6. This one line from American Pastoral. I'm paraphrasing but it goes something like "underneath the surface there was just more surface." You meet someone and you talk to them and you realize that underneath the surface there is, what the hell?, more surface?! But Zuckerman wasn't right in American Pastoral. Maybe the surface is hiding deep reserves of pain? That's what I hope.
7. Say Anything. Lili Taylor. I die.
8. Enter the Ninja by Die Antwoord. Hip hop art school drop outs from South Africa. I know I'm 3 months too late to jump on the bandwagon but the video is some of the best art I've seen in months. Note--I've not viewed any art in months, as well.

The Savages

It's difficult for me to watch depressing movies. And, the most depressing to me is a movie about someone losing her or his mind to mental illness or dementia. So, I was reluctant to watch The Savages. Lucky for me, though, it is not depressing at all. It's kind of inspiring and funny. I really loved this movie.

The Savages stars Laura Linney and Philip Seymor Hoffman as brother and sister writers who live in New York. Their father, Lenny Savage, played by Philip Bosco (the cop in Three Men and a Baby), lives in Florida when his woman friend dies. He has dementia and has begun to write on the walls in his excrement. Needless to say, the woman companion's own kids do not want to take care of Lenny. So, Lenny's grown children, Wendy (Laura Linney) and Jon (PSH), are forced to figure something out. They bring Lenny back to New York and put him in a nursing home. Wendy's reluctant to leave him in a place that's affordable but crowded, but Jon says rather convincingly that all the "homes" are the same. The fancier ones just make you feel better about abandoning your parent.

And, Lenny is cared for in the facility. He's not particularly friendly and his dementia is making him more ornery. There's a great scene where he's all proud of Jon for becoming a doctor. But, what he doesn't realize is that Jon holds a Ph.D. in literature and not an M.D. Lenny gets all mad and Jon takes it all with a grain of salt because what else can you do with a mean old man of a father who is basically confined to a bed? It's not worth it to fight any more.

The main characters of Jon and Wendy are just really great--meaning Linney and Hoffman are perfect in their roles. They are trying to be good children to their dad in the present, but it's difficult to discount how the dad has acted in the past. He was apparently abusive and both Jon and Wendy are forced to reconcile with that while making productive lives for themselves. They are closed off in a way from love--as Jon cannot tell his girlfriend how much he really loves her and Wendy has an affair with a married man.

The great thing about The Savages is that there are no big life lessons to learn from the kids having to put their dad in a home. They do it because there is no other option. This just shows that they are responsible adults who have found love and support from one another as brother and sister as opposed to relying on parents for such a foundation. They are really strong, and in the end, they both find the courage to follow their own trajectories. This is just an honest movie with substantial characters. The honesty makes it funny, and I found myself laughing at the absurdity of what life hands us sometimes. We all make our own way and sometimes a difficult past ultimately makes us better artists and better people. And, putting your parent in a home can be a loving and responsible gesture. I mean, we sometimes label responsibility as love and vice versa. And, you know what? That's okay.

Hard Candy

Ellen Page will fuck you up in Hard Candy. And, she might even make you hard. This is not the same girl who got knocked up in Juno and who never--to the praise of conservatives everywhere--seriously considered having an abortion. Yes, in Juno, Page was ballsy and outspoken in a snarky, ultimately appealing way. However, Hard Candy is the Ellen Page before she got it on with uber wimp, Bleeker.

Let me tell you, this is totally the Page I prefer--muscle-y with a butch dyke haircut. She really doesn't look frail and little here, as she does in her other movies. Her bravado adds five inches to her height and twenty pounds to her frame. Easily. Hard Candy is a vehicle for Page at her best. She plays the changeling, and I'll only say a little more about plot because the movie is better if you don't know too much about the story line.

Hard Candy starts out with Page meeting a lover or a friend or someone she's clearly only met virtually and not in person. The hunky, older man ends up taking Page home, and it's evident that he is attempting to get her drunk with the intent to get her into bed. (And, homeboys, for all of you who do not know, that is called rape. Any time you have sex with someone who is intoxicated--even if you are, too--that act can be construed as rape.) So, he fills her drinks and plays loud music. Then, the turn comes. So, no more talking about the plot. Instead, I'll talk about the tone.

Page sets the tone in that she (and, by extension, the movie) is methodical and plotting. There's no sex, per se, but the sexual organs are definitely involved. Well, less than involved; they're more like innocent bystanders who may not be so innocent after all. Think of Page as the ultimate master in sadomasochism. She's sexy as the dominant one, and her total commitment to the sexual games may get you off as the watcher. Don't be alarmed; we're all freaks at heart. It's just that in the sex games the characters play, there is no safe word.

Spellbound

Most movies about kids, in order to showcase their talents, are about the praising of physical attributes--Little Giants, The Sandlot, Rookie of the Year. This movie is different because intelligence is celebrated, and kids get to show their stuff by way of a public arena--a spelling bee. Spellbound is a documentary that follows eight children as they prepare for the national spelling bee in Washington, D.C.

They are kids from all different backgrounds and it's really interesting to see how they each ready her or himself for this really stressful competition that is televised. (If you've never seen the spelling bee on television, you should. It's kind of fun to try to spell words that you've probably never heard of. I mean, the kids ask for the language of origin or to use the word in a sentence, and, frankly, I can't even fathom how that helps because the words are difficult. These kids are smart.) Some kids have parents that can afford to hire professional coaches; some kids have public school teachers that don't know where to begin, and so they open a dictionary at random and begin to quiz the students; some kids have parents that do not speak English and simply have an affinity for language; some kids relish in the act of studying and have taken it upon themselves to take their love of words and carve out their own study habits.

The thing is, it doesn't matter if the children are rich or poor, if they're privileged or not. Regardless if they have parents who have the resources to pay 1,000 people to pray for their success or not, these kids still have to work. They work really hard to learn the words and to understand languages in order to figure out the roots of the words. Spellbound lets us understand that class lines dissolve when the end product really is how well the kids know their stuff. And, they all know it. They all work hard and sacrifice to study.

Spellbound is really refreshing in how it showcases children ages 11-14. These kids are individuals. They know they're different in terms of how they approach the world and how they understand words and meanings, and are so driven to study and work hard. A lot of the kids feel like outcasts in their own schools and in their respective social circles because they are so unique and smart. A nice moment in the movie is when the children meet one another at the spelling bee in Washington, D.C. They are suddenly surrounded by other kids their age who are as smart, as driven, and as unique as them. They love it. They feel part of a community, and witnessing that validation is really rewarding for the audience.

A couple of years ago, I read an article about the adult lives of the national spelling bee contestants and winners. All of the kids grow up to live good, productive lives. They grow into good people who have come to terms with (and, subsequently, celebrated) their individuality and passion. Spellbound, at its core, is about eight smart, likeable, good kids. It's good to see their intelligence celebrated, and the spelling bee is a perfect way because it has all the drama of sports--only, the physical attributes are all in the mind.

One True Thing

I'm not telling you anything you don't already know: the book is better. I mean, it always is. That's why I really didn't care for this movie at all when I first saw it. But, then, I saw One True Thing again and realized that it is best when it stands alone from the book. That, and it's actually pointedly close to real life and completely relateable on a mother-daughter basis.

Anna Quindlen wrote One True Thing, and I believe it referenced the real-life illness of her mother along with Quindlen's daughterly duties to care for her. The truth is prevalent on every page. Quindlen never shies away from revealing how difficult and self-shattering it can be to do what is right and what is expected as opposed to what you actually want to do. It's all so tied together. That honesty was apparent and intimate on the page, and I found it difficult to translate that emotion of Quindlen's to the silver screen. However, the movie offers the same types of raw moments that are prevalent in mother-daughter relationships, which are sometimes difficult and painful to navigate.

One True Thing stars Renee Zellwegger as Ellie, a Harvard-educated, ambitious New York writer. She is different from her mother (played by Meryl Streep), a homemaker without the sophisticated smarts that her daughter possesses. Ellie must come home to run the household when her mother is diagnosed with cancer.

When I saw this movie, I was a teenager and did not really understand the dynamics of a mother-daughter relationship in the context of adulthood (of both women). And, now that I am grown, I appreciate One True Thing in a whole new way. When your mother is content and happy to raise babies and keep a house, you, as a daughter, feel deviant (and, I'm talking about the bad kind of deviant here) and maybe even unwomanly for first despising that ambition and seeing the existence of a homemaker as trite and oppressive, and then feeling guilty for wanting a bigger life and denouncing the woman (and your mom's behavior) of rearing a child who has subsequently sought those big goals and big life. Those are the types of things that Ellie deals with in regard to her mother. I especially commend Zellwegger here for allowing Ellie to be a little ugly in her judgments of her mother as well as letting Ellie be so vulnerable as to question the validity of the path she has taken, which is at the other extreme of her mother's.

I do admit that this movie--and, especially, the book--is more meaningful if your mother actually does become ill and you take on the responsibility of caring for her. In that case, you'll see how incredibly hard it is to step into the role of caretaker and homemaker when that goal was never your goal to begin with. Regardless if you are encountered with that sort of situation or not, One True Thing is an honest look at relationships. I know everyone says mother-daughter relationships are difficult, but this movie reveals this in a new way. Ellie is forced to go home, forced to confront the truths about her family and the ways in which she always regarded her mother. Sometimes, we're not always right about the past. It can be insightful to actually acknowledge the truth, no matter the consequences.

Goodbye Corey Haim.

In third and fourth grade, my best friend and I used to sleep over at each other's houses every weekend. We would usually rent a movie, and when we were at my friend's house, we always had to rent a PG rated movie. But, one weekend my friend's parents were out of town and so her grandparents were babysitting. So, my friend and I got to sleep in her parents' bed and watch television in their room. It was our chance to watch a PG-13 (which, in all honesty, wasn't that big of a deal since we could watch R-rated movies at my house). We decided to rent Lucas because it was not rated G and because it starred Corey Haim. And, even though I had seen Lucas before, there was something very special about watching this touching movie, Lucas, while lying in bed, eating popcorn, and snuggling up to my best friend in the world. That, I think, is the perfect way to be introduced to Corey Haim.

On March 10, 2010, Corey Haim died at the age of 38. I know that you may only remember him as seen on television during the last 10 or so years. He always appeared slightly bloated and seriously high. It was always sad to see him in that state when you remembered how good he was as a little boy actor. Corey first started out in First Born, a movie starring Terri Garr, where her boyfriend was an abuser. That movie is so old and wasn't super popular. I remember watching pieces of it on t.v. and being sort of drawn to little Corey. Appealing, he was.

Corey's most known movies are Lucas, where he played a too-smart-for-his-own-good kid who falls in love with a new girl at school, and The Lost Boys, where Corey played a knowledgeable boy about vampires who moves to a town where he's surrounded by bloodsuckers. Roger Ebert, in Corey's Los Angeles Times obituary, was referenced as saying how promising and real Corey Haim was in Lucas, and how complex and believable he was able to make the title role. Of course, Roger would say it best. Corey DID seem promising and for a while it all worked out. The Lost Boys was a popular movie and he was good in it, managing to hold his own with an impressive cast: Keifer Sutherland, Jason Patric, Jamie Gertz, and Dianne Wiest, to name a few. The Lost Boys has a sort of dreary mood to it. The first time I heard The Doors was in the soundtrack to The Lost Boys. "People are strange and when you're a stranger...faces look ugly when you're alone...women seem wicked..." I couldn't even listen to that song when I was little without burying my head in my pillow. Around The Lost Boys is when Corey started hanging around Corey Feldman (as he was in The Lost Boys in a smaller part) because they soon were billed as the Two Coreys. (And, years and years later, there was a show on VH1 or MTV or Lifetime or something about the Two Coreys living together...very painful to watch.)

When Corey was still a teenager, he made movies like License to Drive and Dream A Little Dream with Corey Feldman. These movies...ugh...just the absolute bottom of the barrel. See, Corey Haim was billed as a heartthrob and probably graced a few covers of Tigerbeat. However, Haim never really should have been categorized as that. Okay, you know how lackluster Freddie Prinze Jr. and Adrian Grenier are? Like, they are total wet rags, yes? Well, Haim wasn't like that. He had a bit of adolescent charisma and believability that has been seriously lacking in so-called heartthrobs since the late 1980s. Haim just sort of got roped into these "teenage" movies. He was better than them. And, maybe, that's where things started to go wrong with the drugs and the lack of movie roles for anyone with some talent.

Of course, I had a hunch that he was on drugs just from video clips. But, when I checked him out on imdb, I learned that he fairly recently had to file for bankruptcy and just seemed not at all in a good place. Is it wrong to bottle someone's best years--to appreciate Haim only as the promising little boy actor he once was--and discount the rest? I don't know. I guess we'll never know the real Corey. I mean, imdb only gives us movie credits and some choice life events. That's not all there is to him. And, we'll remember much more. We all have our own references for first knowing Corey Haim. If yours is seeing him on a VH1 special of "Child Stars: Where Are They Now," then you need to get a new reference. If nothing else, watch Haim in Lucas. There's a really great scene where he takes his crush through the shallow underground sewer to arrive below an orchestra playing outside in a summer show. Lucas and his crush, Maggie, sit back-to-back, listening to the music. And, you might fall in love with Corey Haim as he plays the character, Lucas, falling in love with a pretty and kind girl.

I will remember Corey Haim. Rest in peace. 12/27/1971 - 03/10/2010

Corey Haim Tribute...soon

Dear reader(s), please be patient. I am working on a Corey Haim tribute.

Back to Old School

You know how we're all infiltrated with prom movies? Well, it's pretty much the same way with movies about going back to college. First, we are taught that life is not worth living after high school. Then, you might as well slit your wrists after college. That, or somehow go back to college. Go back to a way of life that is available to a person for a fragmented time period. Is it really THAT good? Casual sex, drinking, late night talks with roommates, pressure, being away from home. Okay, it IS. It is. You got me. But, why do the boy characters have such a monopoly on this type of movie? Girls get the proms--the weddings, and boys get the fun--the college. It hardly seems balanced, but there you have it. Okay, on to my review/comparison of two movies, one of which is stellar: Back to School and Old School.

Back to School is a 1980s Rodney Dangerfield vehicle. He's ugly; he's rude; he's ridiculous. And, of course, he's funny. No joke; he is. Rodney plays Thornton Melon, a rich guy who sees that his son is struggling at college. Even though Thornton has made big bucks, he never got a college education. Thornton comes to school, bunks in a dorm next to his son's, totally revamps it to look like a nice apartment, joins the diving team, and manages to hire famous authors and scientists to do his work for him. He romances the Literature professor and pisses off her lover. Thornton, threatened with the prospect of being thrown out of school, **SPOILER** finally starts doing his own work and, consequently, realizes his own worth. Back to School has funny moments; he has a secretary attend his class for him (and it's the secretary from Ferris Bueller's Day Off...priceless); he's falling asleep in the shower while he's studying books. There is also a sort of sad, sweet quality to the movie when Thornton figures out that his son is sort of a loser and not the big-time fraternity guy he told his dad he was.

Old School (2003) is another movie where the grown men go back to college in an effort to capture what they no longer have as married, career people. They don't attend classes, but start a fraternity for students and nonstudents for brotherhood and an overall excuse to party and live like they are 20 years old...you know, casual sex, drinking, drugs, fun. This movie, of course, stars younger guys in their 30s and the vibe is totally different than in Back to School. The men (Luke Wilson, the delicious Vince Vaughn, and Will Ferrell) have already been through school. They are looking to escape their lives. So, there's no real soul searching that takes place, if you don't count (and I don't) a badly cast Ellen Pompeo as a wet noodle love interest of Luke Wilson. That storyline is unnecessary and doesn't really work. She cannot hold a candle to Juliette Lewis, Luke Wilson's ex-girlfriend in the movie who plays a sexually-adventurous kind of gal.

Don't get me wrong; Old School is funny. I just think it's funny in a "dick-joke" sort of way, meaning it's really for boys to laugh at and for boys to understand more. I mean, they get laid, the girl characters are an after thought, and it's all about being in a suspended pubescent, teenage boy state. Like I said, there are funny parts, but it's all cliche and tired. Listen, both the movies are funny and they obviously play into the normal themes you'd find in any back-to-college movie. I just think that Back to School is a much better movie all around. Of course, there's adolescent humor and silly antics (Rodney Dangerfield's diving board stunt is kind of priceless), but it's not alienating to the girls or to not-hot guys like Old School is. I mean, Rodney Dangerfield was supremely ugly and he knew it. That self-deprecation was his greatest asset--both in his stand-up and in this movie. Plus, Back to School has so many great cameos--Robert Downey Jr. as the son's friend, the villain (Daniel's nemesis) from The Karate Kid as the villain, and--oh, yeah--Kurt Vonnegut. You'll have fun. And, don't worry, guys...you'll still see your share of naked girls. Thankfully, though, they won't be sleeping with Rodney.

The ambiance counts big time.

The presentation of space makes all the difference. It has an effect of calming you or making you crazy. When I was in college, I took a class that I expected to like because of the subject-matter, 16th century plays (not for everyone, I realize). The professor was interesting on a theoretical level, but every time I stepped into the classroom, I became anxious and irritated. I didn't understand why until one time we had to have the class in another room. You see, the normal classroom had desks that were not nailed to the floor. People would intentionally or inadvertently move the desks to adjust themselves. Consequently, the rows became nonexistent and the desks were all scattered, all over the place. No order. Once, when we had to switch classrooms, we went to a room where the rows were stationary and the desks were all nailed down into perfect rows, evenly spaced and permanent. I felt more calm and structured in that one class than I had all semester. It was the space, I realized. The space made all the difference.

This appreciation of space is how I felt when I went to see a jazz band. I don't really like jazz; I don't understand the importance of the riffs; I don't know if the improvisation is a product of being a genius or of being unprepared. I went to see a jazz performance in an art museum, and that made all the difference. I went with my friend. She always dresses up pretty and always looks stylish and clean. So, I wanted to mirror that look. We walked--let's face it, we strutted!--into the art museum downtown. High heels, dark tights, coats with bright, solid, vibrant colors. The art museum was different at night. I had only ever been in the day. The light resembled Magic Hour (you know, the natural light at sunset when everyone looks good and pretty). The band was to perform in a big, open room where normally people would stand to admire the mural. Aaaah, this mural. It's my favorite. It's the mural of the autoworkers created by Diego Rivera. It's huge. 30 foot ceilings, both walls. So, the lights were dimmed, and the jazz band was set up in front of the mural. My friend and I sat in the back, sipping our $3 sodas and listening. The music was really relaxing and I found myself searching the mural that I had seen many times before. I wanted to experience the painting in this relaxed state, as I've only ever just sort of walked by it, not having the opportunity to sit and stare at one piece of it for an hour. I felt kind of in the painting, or at least in a surreal mood brought on by song and riffs and a forced calm that I decided to appreciate.

The band was called West 73rd. They are from New York City and had a mix of old and new jazz standards even with some Frank Sinatra thrown in. Even if you think you do not like a certain type of music, I recommend seeing a certain genre (one that is not familiar to you or understood by you) in a live setting, and not necessarily a club. Find a museum or an indoor waterpark or an apple orchard that is hosting a live band or featuring an art show. I'm not saying that the unexpected setting will make you appreciate the music any more or less; it's just that the setting will give you a totally new perspective on both the music and the arena in which it is featured. Just do it for the experience. You may surprise yourself and find that the quirkiness or the unexpectedness of your surroundings mixed with art really suits you. Even though I was in a museum surrounded by classified art, the Art that I experienced that evening was the clothes my friend and I wore against the backdrop of a mural marinated in the music.

Coming Home

Get ready to get raunchy. This movie should not be called Coming Home; it should be called Coming because--let's face it--that's what you'll be doing while watching. Can I just start with Jon Voight? This is not the Jon Voight that is old and gross and makes cameos in pathetic movies like Tomb Raider. No. This is 1978 Jon Voight. The incredibly cute and hot and sexy Jon Voight. Watch The Champ or Midnight Cowboy or Deliverance to experience this sex god. In Coming, he plays Luke Martin, a returning Vietnam War Veteran who is now in a wheelchair at the V.A. hospital. Jane Fonda plays Sally, a wife of a Captain, Bruce Dern, (don't get excited...he isn't hot 30 years later in Big Love and he isn't hot in this movie in 1978...not at all) who recently goes to Vietnam. Sally, then, starts volunteering at the hospital where, on the first day, she runs into Luke (literally...he spills his catheter bag all over her), an old high school classmate. Can you guess where this is going?

Sally starts spending more and more time with Luke. She gains some independence and starts questioning the moral and political implications of the Vietnam War along with the treatment of the guys at the VA hospital. Most importantly--and I say this with all sincerity--Sally stops straightening her hair. It's important because Luke notices this; he compliments her. And, that's the beginning, my friends. God, is any of this resonating? I want to be transparent and lure you in. Luke is SEXY. Okay, he's obviously totally into Sally. No doubt. But, he's also an anti-Vietnam activist and that passion, that commitment is--let me tell you, fellas--as hot as hell. He's in a wheelchair, which makes his arms strong and--this feels wrong to admit--but, the chair gives him a sort of non-threatening air that is attractive and comfortable. The movie, Murderball (a really great documentary about quadriplegic wheelchair basketball players), references the idea that the men in the wheelchairs get a lot of women because they're more approachable. (I know what you're thinking, and, yeah, they're quadriplegics--not paraplegics. It's all explained in the documentary.)

So, blah blah blah, Sally becomes more of an activist, her husband is figuring out what a mess the war is turning out to be, and we see the effects in the hospital. Now, on to the good part. Sally and Luke finally have sex. And, it's good. (The men in Murderball say it best: "most guys in wheelchairs like to eat pussy.") It's a really graphic scene--not porn, but pretty close. Soft and sweet porn. Luke's totally getting Sally off and he loves it and she doesn't have to do any work. I first watched this movie in high school, and I thought this was what love and sex was all about. I mean, that kind of exposure at that age really made me lust after Vietnam vets in wheelchairs. Too bad I was not in high school in 1978 and I had to come to grips with the fact that Jon Voight had turned into the weirdo dad who goes on Entertainment Tonight to cry about his estranged, super hot daughter, Angelina. Life is so tough for 15 year old girls. Where is the humanity?

So, Coming Home has a lot of good social commentary. Anti-war. Pro-truth. Anti-straightening your hair. But, honestly, you'll just fall in love with the love affair between Sally and Luke. I've seen this movie at different stages in life: high school, college, after college, in a relationship, after a break-up, in a weird limbo dating phase, single, sort of with someone. Let me tell you, Coming Home stands the test of time. Some have complained that it's a little long. Maybe, but it's worth it. And, you can always fast-forward (oh, and pause and rewind at the really, really good parts).

I'm so Into Jon Krakauer.

Into Thin Air. Into the Wild. Under the Banner of Heaven. All books by Jon Krakauer. So, this is one of those times that Stephanie was talking about: I want to simply link to Roger Ebert's review of Into the Wild because he wrote a really great review of the movie starring the very good and very tiny Emile Hirsch (rogerebert.com). Roger uses his own references of a neighbor boy friend who went off to Nicaragua in the 1980s to fight with the Sandinistas and everyone thought he was crazy. Kinda how people talked about Chris McCandless (a.k.a. Alexander Supertramp), the real-life boy about which Into the Wild is written. God, that personal story really put Chris' journey into perspective. By the way, the movie IS good. It is. But, the book. THE BOOK. I read the book twice in a row. Right in a row! It's Jon Krakauer's narrative voice that really got me. A movie could never come close. It didn't ever really stand a chance.

So, I think I know why I love Jon Krakauer's work (and maybe even him) so much; he writes kind of like Roger. Krakauer's books, though nonfiction and not about him at all, include his own life experiences--not for a self-serving, ego-stroking reason, but to put the story or the person about which he writes into perspective. Those personal stories draw me in because the more personal, the more universal. Krakauer knows this. He's fearless in the way he includes personal stories about how when he was in his twenties, he climbed peaks just to brag about it later at the bar. But, he also reveals that the blind ambition sometimes found in young people who are compelled to explore, to figure out life, to risk comfort for truth is not simply foolish behavior. Those experiences shape your life, your existence. And, so what if they are encased in an impulsiveness that seems to disappear for many after the age of, say, 35? It's your casing, after all, and I heard somewhere that the mind doesn't develop fully until the age of 25. I hope that's true.

Into Thin Air is about the failed exhibition (failed in the sense that most of the group dies) to the Summit of Mt. Everest. Krakauer (in an interview for the Independent Film Channel's program, Iconoclasts) revealed that he didn't look at writing Into Thin Air as an act of art. He felt that it was good journalism, but that the story was too raw, too sad, and too personal to the survivors and the deceased ones' families to be viewed as anything artistic. Even in his hardcore reporting, Krakauer manages to get personal with his audience and talk about his marriage--the good and the bad aspects. That honesty is really refreshing.

Under the Banner of Heaven is the latest book I've read from Krakauer and it is a lot different than the others because Krakauer doesn't really invoke his personal experiences. He showcases the people affiliated with the Fundamentalist Latter-Day Saints (FLDS) Church and allows their stories to be told, giving many people--like women in these communities--the opportunity to be heard. Both sects--FLDS and LDS-- are totally connected even though they would claim otherwise. The nonfiction book offers a commentary on the history of the Mormon Church, the real-life slayings of innocents in the name of their god, and the way we allow blind faith to lead us--without reason or explanation--sometimes down dangerous paths to murder, bigotry and persecution.

One of the most resonating sections of the book is when Krakauer discusses Elizabeth Smart--the little Utah Mormon girl who got kidnapped by a member of the FLDS. Remember her from a few years ago? She and her family looked like they stepped out of a really wholesome soap opera. They're white and blonde and pretty and smiling. The kidnapper used scripture and references from the Book of Mormon--a faith he and Elizabeth shared at a certain level--to systematically rape her and keep her from running away even when she had the opportunity to do so. This story was so heartbreaking because, as an ex-FLDS woman said in Under the Banner of Heaven, there are thousands of 12 and 13 year old girls who are married off, impregnated and systematically raped within the FLDS community. The U.S. governmental authorities look the other way because of the FLDS's cult-like structure and the fear of treading on freedom of religion. Elizabeth Smart was rescued after a year, but the other "kidnapped" girls remain hostages. Oh, and the politics involved: homosexuals teamed with the FLDS to keep "government out of the bedroom" and feminists paired with conservative Mormons (LDS) to berate polygamy. The crazy pairings make as much sense as faith and religion.

If you haven't read Krakauer, do it. He's the mountain climber's answer to Roger Ebert. Krakauer's voice is distinct and authentic and truthful. He has an ability to let you in without ramming his experiences down your throat. He walks the line. And, he's not even a druggie like Johnny Cash. I love you, Jon Krakauer.