mo-NEEK-a

Flash Fiction Challenge #1: Angela

myself — Thu, 19 Aug 2010 02:27:16 +0000

Frank was on the counter between the dishwasher and the sink, one leg dangling over the edge, the other bent at the knee with one crooked arm resting on top. This is how I found him most mornings, usually with a smarmy grin on his glowing face.

“You look rather pleased with yourself. Another satisfying night of havoc under your belt?”

“I find it ironic,” Frank said, looking at me with his eyes but otherwise unmoving, “that you and I have absolutely nothing to do, yet these—people are constantly busy.” I looked down at the large table in the center of the room and saw Angela weighing out a large amount of flour. “Always preparing for something.”

“You say that as if you’re any different,” I replied. Frank snorted, eyes back on Angela’s toil.

I lounged atop the bread racks. As the wee hours merged into dawn, the racks would be filled up, the hot tendrils of yeasty steam gently dancing around me. And as the dawn continued into daylight, the racks would be emptied again, leaving me in a musty warmth until night returned. It was a daily ritual I relished, and one which Frank would find to be stifling. His only ritual was to be sitting on the counter when I returned from my nightly wanderings, presumably to check in on his oldest friend. But I know it is only to make sure I haven’t somehow found an exit and left without him.

Although Frank despised tedium, I believe he also visited to witness Angela’s. For years she had been dedicated to her work and inspired others to be the same. It was after her only son was run down by a motorist outside the shop that her dedication turned into obsession. She worked every day, arriving at least an hour earlier than any employee, and remaining at the shop until the last crumb was swept away. In the early mornings, thinking she was alone, she would sometimes talk to her dead child, as if he were right there with her. Frank and I knew better.

This was one of those mornings, as Angela spoke softly about a zoo trip long passed. A gentle smile broke through her usual melancholic countenance. But this only served to rile Frank. “Hey!” he yelled to her, coming out of his pose and leaning from the edge of the counter. “Knock it off!” Angela was oblivious.

Frank came down from the counter to slowly circle the table, keeping his gaze on his prey. I leaned forward on an elbow to get a better look. He walked deliberately, passing the ovens, then the wall with pegs still holding children’s things aloft - a small satchel, a tiny parka, some toys. Angela continued her reverie on caged beasts, unaware of her own predator. When Frank made his way around to her side of the table, he came close enough to stir the air touching her skin. Her body shivered at the sensation, but it gave her no indication that she was not alone. Frank kept going around the table until he was on the opposite side from Angela. He stopped, placed both hands flat on the tabletop, and leaned forward.

“Angela,” he sang. “Angela, your boy’s gone away-ay. He’s no longer he-ere.” There was malice in his voice, but only I could hear it. I relaxed into my lounging posture; I’d seen his taunting act more than enough. I rolled onto my back, and closed my eyes, waiting for his sing-song mockery to end. Soon there was a crash. I was at Frank’s side even before Angela could react to the disturbance. He was at the wall of pegs and had pulled everything down.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I asked.

“I’m showing dear Angela that things change.”

“By throwing all her kid’s stuff on the floor?”

Angela, her heart pounding heavily, looked around the room for a reasonable explanation for why her son’s belongings were at one moment safely hanging on the wall and the next moment falling to the ground. Not finding one, she walked over to the now desecrated shrine, and knelt next to it. She touched each item one by one, ending with the parka which she then held to her chest. I watched her face as it turned from stunned to heartbroken.

In a moment, Frank was behind her. With all his effort, he pushed her down with one foot to her back. When her face was against the floor, he turned to me. “It’s all I can do to hold her down. You have to get that jump rope and pull it around her neck.”

“What are you trying to do?”

“She has to know. I have to make her know.”

“By choking her?” I asked, as I pulled the two little plastic handles over either shoulder. I crossed the two ends until I could see I was causing her discomfort.

“She begs for that boy to stay with her, talks to him as if he were right beside her. Meanwhile, he’s gone forever, and you and me? We will never leave. She’ll be gone, too, and we’ll still be here. She has to know!”

Angela’s arms flailed, reaching behind her back seeking her attacker but finding nothing. I pulled tighter on the jump rope. I didn’t have it in me to do any real damage, and killing her - releasing her - would only have angered Frank more. Soon, her body did go limp, and I let go. Frank stepped back with a heavy sigh.

Moments passed and we heard a key rattling out front. Frank disappeared. I bent down and blew into Angela’s face. Her eyes opened and looked right through mine, bewildered. One hand pulled the rope from her throat, the other still clutched her boy’s parka. Her employee entered the kitchen, and that’s when I disappeared, too.

Where is All the Money? And Why?

myself — Fri, 30 Jul 2010 02:45:41 +0000

I got an email today from my pal Joe Biden.

Friend –

See? We’re pretty close.

$200 million.That’s what Republican-aligned special interests have pledged to spend on the 2010 election. Just to put that in context, that’s nearly $40 million more than every interest group spent on the 2008 presidential election — combined.

I have to wonder, if those numbers are even half right, what is wrong with this scenario? Why, if people/companies, have such large amounts of cash they are willing to give away, why do they waste it on campaigns (no matter which party)? Wouldn’t it be better served by investing in communities? In real projects to better our infrastructure, grants for schools and libraries, food and shelter for those not able to provide from themselves? They could get their name in giant letters across the face of a public hospital they paid to build, in blinky lights on a much-needed South Park bridge replacement.Millions spent on political campaigns is such a fruitless, impractical endeavor. What’s the expression - pissing in a river . . . (or maybe watering your lawn while it’s raining)

SIFF 2010: Day Seven

myself — Wed, 02 Jun 2010 04:01:36 +0000

Halfway through the festival, more or less. There’s still almost two weeks left, but I only have 8 out of 20 more movies to see. My Day Seven was also Memorial Day, but it didn’t really feel like it. It was kinda rainy and gray and not warm - just like I like it. Still, it was a little disorienting. I also found myself at the only Harvard Exit screening of my festival. I drove, of course, (for those of you who don’t know, Seattle bus service totally sucks after 9pm, especially on Sundays/holidays) and ended up parking in an area of Capitol Hill I’ve never been. Huge houses, gated communities - it was a bit spectacular. When I think of the Hill, I often think of squatter punks projectile vomiting into the street (that’s an actual occurrence), but this area was the complete opposite. Still no parking, so whatever. The film I saw was Life During Wartime, a sequel to 1998’s Happiness, with all the roles played by a new set of actors. I don’t really have too much to say about it. If you liked Happiness or like Todd Solondz, I’d recommend it. It’s been awhile since I’ve seen the earlier film, but I think this new one is not as dark, but it still deals with the same uncomfortable subjects in a kind of lighthearted manner. I enjoyed seeing Michael K. Williams in a totally different role than he played in “The Wire”, and the other actors were great in their parts - Allison Janney, Shirley Henderson, Ciarán Hinds, Paul Reubens, Michael Lerner, et al.

SIFF 2010: Day Six

myself — Mon, 31 May 2010 18:37:22 +0000

Mediterranean Diet (or Food, depending on your translation) is one of several ménage à trois movies at this year’s festival. This one is set in a seaside village near Barcelona so it is always sunny, everyone is glistening with a sexy sheen, and people have no tanlines. All the action revolves around food, and yet I felt like the filmmakers really didn’t know much about food. The depictions of the dishes were not anywhere near a sensuous as I would expect from a threesome movie. Besides that, no one ever ate anything. Even when Sofía auditions for a cook position at a resort hotel, her evaluator merely looks at the dishes she’s prepared and she’s hired. Aside from what could be a huge deficit, Mediterranean Food is a pleasant romp with three beautiful people. Not a bad start to a Sunday. [Mediterranean Food plays again 1 June at 9:15pm at Everett Performing Arts Center.]

The only Croatian entry into the festival, Donkey (Kenjac) is about family bonds and issue resolution. Summer break brings family together in the Croatian countryside, along with a donkey, a symbol of each one’s stubbornness. Secrets are revealed, confrontations are made, and in the end . . . well, why ruin it for you, right? Nothing earth-shattering, but a nice little film. [Donkey plays again at Pacific Place on 5 June at 9:30pm.]

Although I thought I would enjoy the Bulgarian film Crayfish (Raci) more than Donkey, I was, in fact, wrong. The story itself was a good one, but it took 110 minutes to tell what could have been told in 30. There were many long, drawn-out scenes of nothingness. They were visions which probably pleased the director quite a bit, but did nothing to hold the audience’s interest and keep pace. Several people left before the ending, and while it’s not my policy to give up on a movie, I don’t blame them. (Someone on IMDb gave Crayfish 8 out of 10 stars and had this to say: “At least, this movie will remind you of your mother.” What?) I would like to see this screenplay remade by any other director. [Crayfish plays again at Uptown on 2 June at 9:30pm.]

SIFF 2010: Day Five

myself — Mon, 31 May 2010 17:38:21 +0000

I chose Skateland because it is a story set in early 80s Texas, and I always like to see if I can relate to others’ interpretations of “my” childhood. Granted, I was in elementary school at the time, and Skateland is mainly about kids in their late teens, but I had older siblings and cousins, so why not? Set in East Texas, it was a little leafier than I remember (joke - I’m from the south central part), but the filmmakers got a very authentic look, all the way down to the Lone Star longnecks. The mood-setting dialogue of the first third, however, was stilted and corny. Once they got into the actual story it got better, more natural. The writer/director was on hand for Q&A afterward, and he explained that from writing to wrapping, the film was made from April to December 2008. Maybe that was why the script was a little weak. SPOILER ALERT: On my way to the theatre I was musing to myself on the recent ubiquity of sudden death following acknowledgment of contentment/achievement of happiness. Then in Skateland, one of the main characters tells his best friend that he is completely OK with how his life has turned out. Five minutes later—smack! He’s dead. [Skateland plays again 6 June at 8pm at Kirkland Performance Center, and in theatres this fall.]

Later that day I found myself at the Neptune yet again for a fantastic Japanese treat going by the name K-20: The Fiend with 20 Faces (Kaijin nijû mensô den). It was at times ridiculous, but at all times entertaining. Part Indiana Jones, part Batman, the film was set in a fictional 1949 Japan where World War II ended with a treaty on December 8. The class system is strictly adhered to, and K20 makes his reputation by stealing valuable objects from the upper class. Through a curious string of events, it’s up to circus acrobat Heikichi to foil the fiend.

One of the things I found interesting was how all the non-Japanese writing was German. For instance, the police helicopters were marked “polizei,” and the dials and knobs on the gadgets were labeled in German. An interesting choice, considering the premise that Japan signed a treaty with the US and UK to prevent world war. [K-20 plays again 4 June at 9:30pm at Kirkland Performance Center.]

SIFF 2010: Day Four

myself — Sat, 29 May 2010 16:34:28 +0000

After a quick trip to the southeast quandrant of the US, I was back in line for another festival film. Kanikôsen was a novel that was adapted to a graphic novel which is now adapted to a movie (actually, there was another film adaptation in 1953). The title refers to the crab-canning boat in which the story takes place. The setting: early 20th century, summer, in the waters between Japan and Russia. The Japanese boats are in a competition for “national pride” to can more crab than their fellow boats. This one we’re on is losing the competition and the boss is not happy. He and his second beat the workers, demanding harder work, more efficiency, greater output. An idealistic worker, Shinjo, tries to lure his brothers into a better life through mass suicide. After that fails, he leaves the boat on a dinghy (I’m a little hazy on the details of this as it was past my bedtime and I might have nodded off) and is subsequently rescued by a Russian boat, where he sees how happy the workers are in their current lives. Shinjo returns to his cannery boat and rallies his fellow workers. There is humor, there is tragedy, there is drama. [Kanikôsen screens again 31 May, 8:30pm at the Egyptian.]

SIFF 2010: Day Three

myself — Mon, 24 May 2010 15:15:30 +0000

My motivation for seeing Nowhere Boy was that young John Lennon was played by Kick-Ass Aaron Johnson. The late Beatle, even as an awkward teen, was a far cry from the shy, dweebish wannabe action hero, and I thought it would be interesting to see the one so soon after the other. Even knowing going in that the story was about John Lennon, at times I would forget and think I was watching Paul McCartney’s story (confusing!). I’m not sure why - maybe I haven’t watched A Hard Day’s Night enough times (just the once), or maybe I can blame it on Mr. Johnson or the screenwriter for not making a caricature of Lennon’s younger self (joke!). It was a tragic story, and the guy sitting in the next seat assured me it was accurate, since Britain’s Channel Four was involved. I see that the story is taken from Lennon’s sister’s memoir, so I’m satisfied. Great performances all around, and a pretty good story even if you forget John, Paul, and George grow up to be famous. [Nowhere Boy plays again at the Admiral on 27 May at 7pm]

Afterward, I headed down to Dragonfish for some happy hour vittles, which was kind of a strange experience in which I forgot to get my sake card punched. Karen joined me, and then we headed to Pacific Place for Farsan. Funny and sweet, this is Swedish film about a Lebanese immigrant looking for love. The main character, Aziz (played by the writer/director’s real-life father) is a widower who is requested by his son to find a new wife as a distraction. The son cannot have children of his own, so he’s hoping to sneak an adoption by ol’ Pops. While the humor is generally not slapstick, there is one very hilarious kitchen scene involving Aziz’s milquetoast boss and his wife. [Farsan plays again at Harvard Exit on 29 May at 9:15pm.]

SIFF 2010: Day Two

myself — Sun, 23 May 2010 06:46:52 +0000

In which I see the second of two short film collections. This one is entitled Pandemonium Boulevard. How it’s described in the catalog: “And then, quite suddenly, all hell broke loose.” It’s a fantastic description, but the films didn’t all live up to the hype. “How I Survived the Zombie Apocalypse” was corny and predictable, and felt too much like a rip-off of “The Sarah Connor Chronicles”. “In The Dark”, starring my main man Wil Wheaton, was a funny little tale of a man planning his first murder, but it wasn’t scary. Some nice creepiness came from “Culebra” and “Off Season”. The former showing a supernatural consequence of illegal immigration (my fear of tunnels is magnified when the tunnel in question is a sewage pipe). The latter starred Bill Sage and a dog and had a real good isolation vibe. I was happy to see Mr. Sage again; he’s a regular in Hal Hartley films - one of my favorite directors. The Hungarian “Epilogue” was a visually interesting and enjoyable take on guilt, but, again, not scary.

The New “Like”

myself — Sat, 22 May 2010 23:49:05 +0000

The other day my pal Toni and I were waiting in line for a movie in front of this girl and her friend who incessantly used the word “like” in her conversation. Almost literally, every two to three words was “like” as if the girl just had some uncontrollable tic. Once I noticed it, I couldn’t stop hearing that word. I brought it to Toni’s attention so I wouldn’t be alone in my hyperobservance of this girl’s speech. I thought to myself “is ‘like’ even popular anymore?” Didn’t its overuse fall out of favor years ago?
Today I realized what word has replaced “like” in casual conversation. I was in a crowd of people (lemmings?) and overheard a young man peppering his speech much like that young lady did, only he was saying “fuckin’”. It occurred to me that this is happening more and more these days. I used to think it quite rude to use words such as this in mixed company because one never knows who might hear, but now I think, who hasn’t heard this word repeatedly, on a daily basis? It is coming to the point where the word “fuck” has lost its meaning, lost its power, lost its ability to offend. It is so much a part of our collective vocabulary now, how can it be considered vulgar anymore? I’m sure it won’t be long before a new (or another old one - the f bomb had been around long before the FCC censored it) word comes into play that will cause the ladies to gasp and the gentlemen to chuckle. The lexicon will evolve, people!

SIFF 2010: Day One

myself — Sat, 22 May 2010 17:31:50 +0000

As I did last year, I’m counting my days at the festival, not the days of the festival itself. Technically the day before was Day One, as that was the Opening Night Gala, which I did not attend. I heard it was a fun time at Benaroya Hall with lots of good local eats available for the guests, and a good movie to boot (The Extra Man).

I began my festival at the Neptune at 7 o’clock (six, if you count time standing in line) with Tucker & Dale vs. Evil, a grizzly comedy of errors. In summary, it’s about a couple of hillbillies being menaced by a bunch of college kids in the Virginia woods, and it’s a hilarious rendition of teen slasher flicks. You’ll recognize the hillbillies from “Firefly” (Alan Tudyk) and “Reaper” (Tyler Labine). You might also recognize the female lead as Cerie from “30 Rock” - I recognized her, just couldn’t remember from where. Mr Labine and some others involved in the making of the film - the director and the cinematographer, I do believe - were on hand for a Q&A afterward, which I skipped in favor of a quick dinner and more line waiting down at SIFF Cinema. [Tucker & Dale screens again on 22 May, midnight at the Egyptian.]

I don’t usually partake in the short film collections, but this year I’m taking in two. The first was Animation for Adults. Seven of the thirteen films were from the USA, including the grotesquely funny Wisdom Teeth and Bill Plympton’s Santa, the Fascist Years. My favorite selections were 0 (Zero) out of Canada - beautiful calligraphic brush strokes appearing and disappearing from paper, The Wonder Hospital from USA - a surreal trip of colors and shapes, and France’s The Little Dragon - a loving homage to Bruce Lee and toys and an audience favorite. Also featured was Latvia’s only submission to the festival, Wings and Oars, which was a bit incoherent but visually appealing. I wanted to like Man and Cat (Australia), but it was so mish-mashed with a variety of animation styles that I was too distracted to enjoy it. [Animation for Adults plays again 6 June, 9:30pm at the Neptune.]