I’ve never seen the film 500 Days of Summer. And I’m not inclined to. It is directed by Marc Webb, who directed the 2012 version of The Amazing Spider-Man, which I wrote about at the time, The Not So Amazing Spider-Man Writers. As you can tell from the title, my problem was with the writers, not the director. But the director is generally the guy who says, “Yes, this screenplay is ready; let’s shoot!” And look: if the guy were an artist, would he be directing such dreck?

But the other day, I came upon this one sequence in the film that is shot in split screen. It is “Expectations vs Reality.” The principle character is coming to the birthday party of his ex-lover. He imagines that they are going to get back together. So on the left side of the screen, we see his expectations for the party, and on the right, we see the reality. In general, I’m not a fan of the split screen. In fact, I even wrote that I did not see a narrative reason to ever use it. Well, I think I was wrong. This is just marvelous:

I did hop over to Wikipedia to see if the whole of 500 Days of Summer might be worth checking out. But it turns out the whole film is more or less what you would expect from the director of The Amazing Spider-Man: boy falls in love with the wrong girl, eventually realizes it, finds the right girl. But this three minutes of film is great.

Afterword

If you get rid of the whole love-interest aspect of the reality part of the story, that’s pretty much every party that I’ve ever been to. It’s also why I don’t like going to parties — and why I always bring a book.

There are periods of time when a particular joke will be considered so funny or so true that you just hear it everywhere. I remember back a few decades that the following joke was considered very funny, “I just watched that episode of Gilligan’s Island where they almost get off the island but then Gilligan screws it up.” It sounds like the kind of joke that came from a stand-up comedian. And it is supposed to be funny because it’s so true: that was the plot of every episode of the show.

The problem is that that was not the plot of every episode. You see, I just happened to have been given the complete series. And I’ve been really depressed. So I’ve watched a handful of episodes from each season. And I have yet to come upon a single episode where they would get off the island if not for Gilligan’s incompetence. Certainly most of the comedy revolves around Gilligan being an idiot. But destroying their rescue opportunities? Not so much.

What’s been most interesting watching Gilligan’s Island is how few of the plots are about them trying to get off the island at all. It is mostly a show of the adventures of a group of unlikely people trying to “make the best of things” — which, as the song tells us, is an uphill climb. This is a case where I hate the way Frankly Curious is run these days. When I first started the blog, I could have spent a week researching this article. But I only have an hour or so to write this article and go through the whole show. But here are the first six episodes of the second season:

1. Gilligan’s Mother-in-Law: in this episode, Gilligan has the opportunity to be the best man at a wedding of a local tribesman. It holds the potential to get the word about the group’s predicament. But when Gilligan finds out that to be the best man he must survive “poison darts at six paces” he refuses. His decision is quite rational, and one that all the other men would have made.
2. Beauty Is as Beauty Does: this episode is about the crew holding a beauty pageant to crown Miss Castaway. There is nothing whatsoever about getting off the island. It’s a silly episode even by the standards of Gilligan’s Island.
3. The Little Dictator: an exiled South American dictator comes to the Island. He returns to take his country over, promising to rescue the castaways. He succeeds at regaining control, but then is institutionalized when he tells his countrymen about Gilligan’s Island. Yes, they don’t get off the island, but it has nothing to do with Gilligan.
4. Smile, You’re on Mars Camera: okay, this one might be counted as an episode where Gillian screws up a rescue. I’ll grant it. But it isn’t technically his fault. He allows a pot of glue to explode, coating everyone in it. But that would have been fine. What destroys the rescue is the overreaction of everyone else, causing them all to be covered with feathers, making it look like the Mars probe was seeing chicken people on Mars
5. The Sweepstakes: in this episode, Gilligan finds that a sweepstakes ticket he bought before the “three hour tour” has won and he is a millionaire. Nothing in the episode is about getting off Gillian’s Island.
6. Quick Before It Sinks: this episode is all about the Professor thinking that the island is sinking. This is Gilligan’s fault, of course, but it doesn’t have anything to do with getting off the island.

So that’s 50% of the episodes having anything to do with getting off the island, and only 17% that might be considered Gillian’s fault. I don’t suppose it matters all that much. But remembering the show in such a formulaic manner is a great insult to it. That’s not to say that it is a great show. I don’t think I’ve laughed once in the 10 episodes I’ve watched. But that might say more about my depression than the show.

My Best Friend, or Mon Meilleur Ami, is one of my favorite films. But I haven’t watched it in a while. And after watching it this afternoon, I was shocked see that I had never written about it. I’ve always thought it a flawed film, but I don’t think that’s true anymore. I do wonder why we Americans can’t seem to make films like this. The American filmmakers who are capable of making such films are too cynical. And I’m not saying that I’m above that. All my fiction is cynical — at least on the surface. (I think about it like M&Ms: a hard cynical shell and a gooey middle.

My Best Friend is about a bet. François (Daniel Auteuil) is a very successful art dealer. His partner, Catherine (Julie Gayet — yes, her) bets him that he has no best friend. Indeed, all his business associates confirm that he has no friends. To give you some idea, the film starts in a church. He is doing business on his cell phone. He says, “Sorry, I have to call you back. My client just got here.” And we see six men carrying a coffin in. He’s there so that he can talk to the widow about a deal they were in the middle of.

Still, François isn’t crude or coarse; he just seems clueless; he never learned what it was to be a friend. So François has a week to present his best friend. And in the process, he spends a great deal of time with a taxi driver, Bruno (Dany Boon). And although it takes a long time for him to realize it, François does have a best friend: Bruno. But he’s still clueless and focused on the bet. This leads to Bruno being devastated, when François stages a demonstration for his colleagues of what a great friend Bruno is. He succeeds: everyone agrees that Bruno is a great friend, but that François is a total jerk.

My Best Friend and Love

The core of My Best Friend is laid out late when Catherine tells François, “You asked about the acid test [of friendship]. There isn’t one. I forget who said, ‘There’s no love, only tests of love.’ The the exact opposite is true. There’s no test. There’s only love.” Catherine admits that her part in the bet was based upon her anger at not being allowed to be François’ friend. He’s just no good at it — or even knows what it means.

By the end of My Best Friend, François seems to have figured out the friendship thing and has many healthy relationships. It is just that none of them are with Bruno who is far too hurt by his betrayal. But, of course, they finally do get back together — acting more like best friends in grammar school than the grown men that they are. We are even left with the two of them accepting of their obvious lies. Because there’s no test. There’s only love.

You owe it to yourself to find and watch My Best Friend. It’s that rarest of things: a “chick flick” for guys. But one that gals will love too.

I just found out that Burt Kwouk died yesterday. He was the kind of actor that you saw everywhere, but he will always be remembered for the part of Cato Fong, Inspector Jacques Clouseau servant who attacked him all the time in The Pink Panther film series. This was supposed to be part of Clouseau’s continued training. But it is quite absurd. In The Pink Panther Strikes Again, the two of them totally destroy Clouseau’s apartment. (Not that it matters, given that it is blown up shortly afterward.)

The following scene is entirely typical. Cato surprises Clouseau, they fight, and after the fight is over, Clouseau attacks Cato in the most unsportsmanlike way imaginable. It’s very silly stuff. But I love it. And when I was a kid, Cato was the only character I really felt a kinship to.

But Burt Kwouk was much more Cato Fong. The IMDb has him listed in 144 films and television shows. And this gives him but one credit for the 78 episodes of Last of the Summer Wine that he appeared in. No cause of death has been announced. He was 85.

I think I will call it a night and watch one of the Pink Panther movies. I only recently got The Pink Panther Collection with the first five films.

Back when I first started this blog, I wrote two articles about the Indian Rope Trick. The first, Indian Rope Trick Part I, was about Peter Lamont’s excellent book, The Rise of the Indian Rope Trick. It was about how the trick did not actually exist in the form that was reported: magician outside causes a rope to rise, their assistant climbs up it, and disappears as the rope falls back to the ground. The effect was just made up by a lazy newspaper reporter in 1890. The newspaper later printed a retraction, but it was too late: the fake trick fascinated the world.

The second article, Indian Rope Trick Part II, was about an actual trick that was performed by Indian magicians hundreds of years ago. In it, a chain is made to rise after which a pig and other animals scurry up it and disappear. The basis of that article is my long experience of hearing and reading people’s descriptions of magic tricks and how they diverge from what they actually saw. In this particular case, I suspect that some kind of shadowbox effect was used, making the audience think the animal was climbing the change, when it had already been dropped through a trap door.

Since 1890, there have been many magicians who have performed the Indian Rope Trick. In particular, there was Howard Thurston, whose poster you can see above. But I’ve never seen it. And it is hard to talk about exactly how it is done, because there are a number of different ways. I’ve long thought that a hydraulic system would work. But then I saw a guy performing the trick in some Penn & Teller show. The trick here is painfully obvious:

The enormous diameter of the rope and its stuttering climb both point to it being hollow with a steel rod pushing it up from an underground chamber. Once it reaches its full height, the underground assistant secures it so the boy can climb up. Afterward, the rod is released, falling back down into the chamber. Since the hollow rope is stiff, it would fall slower in a natural way. No big surprise there.

What’s more interesting is the following video. When you first watch it, it is hard not to be impressed. But watch it a couple of more times and you will see that it is a hoax:

Notice how the rope rises at 0:16 mark. Does that seem odd? It should! It is being run backwards: we see a rope falling. But it is worse than that. We see the magician in a medium show as he throws a rope in the air. It cuts to the crowd. And then it cuts to a long shot of the reverse footage. This is, rather clearly, completely staged. That includes the audience. But how can I say that?

At 0:33 in the video, as the boy is climbing the rope, you can see a metal rod that is behind it. The rope has simply been attached to the rod in such a way that the camera is fooled. From any other angle, it would clear that there is just an bar that the boy is climbing. Although the film is made to look like documentary footage, it is as staged as any Meg Ryan romantic comedy.

I do understand people’s fascination with the Indian Rope Trick. Just the same, I much prefer little things like Daryl’s Rope Routine, which is actually quite simple, but brilliantly done in his own nerdy way:

Every time I lie down on the couch and put on Hulu to watch Bob’s Burgers, I get that screen asking me if I would like to have a very quick interactive commercial or a much longer string of normal commercials. It’s really annoying for a number of reasons. But the main reason I do nothing is that it would require that get up every five minutes to interact with the computer. I’m relaxing, watching Bob’s Burger’s for Christ’s sake. I can put up with the commercials. I don’t want to jump up all the time just so I don’t have to watch a few extra commercials.

But there is more to it than that. I’ve done the interactive commercial in the past. And it has been a nightmare each time. For one thing, they make it very confusing. It isn’t a thing where they ask you if you’d if you like golfing and then tell you to buy a particular putter. Now, it is, for example, a film trailer. There is a 30 second countdown. But there’s also a “close” button. If you use it, it starts the whole thing over with a new 30 second clock. But once you figure out that you shouldn’t do that, I guess it is okay.

The whole thing is meant to confuse you, however. There isn’t really much in the way of interaction, other than the fact that you do have to interact with it. If you just let it go on, it will never stop. At the end, you are in a loop like in a DVD menu. And you are left in that state, you may think you can click “close” because that’s the only thing that makes sense. Instead, you have to click something on the screen. The “close” button doesn’t go away after the 30 seconds transpire. You have to click something and only then will the button appear that allows you to get back to Bob’s Burgers.

Another interesting thing about it is that the “normal commercial break” is never the two minutes they claim. On average, it is about 1:15. And sometimes, it is less. Sometimes there is no commercial break at all — it just goes right back to the show. So over all, the best the interactive commercial does is cut your commercial time in half.

It’s worse though! It takes time for the interactive commercial to load. And then, it takes time to “interact” and click the button to return to the show. But even more frustrating is that the interactive commercial has crashed on me twice, causing me to have to start the entire show over again. So in addition to not getting such a great benefit, the interactive commercial offers the potential for television viewing catastrophe.

There is something else about the whole process: the choice screen itself. You have to wait for 15 second to make your choice. Those who want the interactive commercial, can just click and get rid of it. So I suppose that works in its favor. Hulu is willing to slow down normal viewers just for the opportunity to get people to use their interactive commercial. This annoys me even more. But on top of this, we have a man’s voice that is distinctly louder than the show telling us that we have this great opportunity to “interact” and get “right back” to the show.

This is the kind of short-term profit thinking that defines the modern world. And it makes me just want to wait until the whole season is available on Netflix. But I do continue to watch it, because it is Bob’s Burgers. But that’s all I watch; I don’t stick around for The Simpsons anymore.

I watched Romy and Michele’s High School Reunion last night for the first time since it was out — almost two decades ago. My response to it this time was exactly as it was the first time I saw it. It’s an incredibly funny and charming film. At the same time, it’s a structural mess. About 50 minutes in, the film inserts a ten minute long dream sequence. That’s a little strange, but it’s followed by a non-dream sequence that is, if anything, more unbelievable. I remember when first watching it thinking that it too was a dream sequence.

This is all unfortunate, because the screenplay does an admirable job of tying up loose ends. I think the problem is that the second act depends upon Romy and Michele having a fight, and it is hard to imagine the two of them staying mad at each other. Hence: a dream sequence! In the reality of the film, the two only manage to stay mad at each other during the end of the drive to the reunion. The moment that Romy finds herself in an embarrassing situation, Michele runs to her assistance. And that is the heart of the film: the strength of these two women’s friendship.

Although both Romy and Michele are airheads, they are also classic nerds. As many of you know, my definition of a nerd is someone who is so interested in whatever they do that they don’t realize how uncool they are. All the two of them are aware of is that they are not part of “the A group,” but it doesn’t occur to them that they uncool. And that’s good, because they are cool. They are having a good time doing what they enjoy. For me, the high point of the film is when Michele (the more clueless of the two) tells Romy:

And in addition to everything else, they are very creative. For 12 years and probably more, they’ve been designing and sewing their own clothes. That’s where the nerd factor really comes in because that is an activity that is unusual, but which seems to them like fish to water: of course they would make their own clothes. It doesn’t matter to me, but being a movie, they must get social acceptance for it, so the Vogue editor compliments them, “They have nice lines. A fun, frisky use of color.”

There are lots of other aspects of the film. All the nerds triumph in life while while the cool kids mostly don’t. And there is the fact that everyone is horrible to each other — even the heroines. Although it is hard to see it as serious. For example, the two of them make fun of the film Pretty Woman, but Michele cries at one point, “I just get really happy when they finally let her shop.”

But the main aspect of the film besides friendship is female empowerment. Even star quarterback Billy Christensen is subordinate to mean girl and alpha A group member Christie Masters. But even nerd turned billionaire Sandy Frink is just there for plot purposes. Once Romy and Michele get in his helicopter, you don’t even see him. And at the end, although he has loaned them the money to start their own clothing boutique, he’s nowhere to be seen. It is just Romy and Michele and the foul-mouthed, chain smoking, cynical Heather Mooney (Janeane Garofalo) buying probably the first piece of non-black clothes in her life. As Michele says, “For me, it’s like I’ve just given birth to my own baby girl, except she’s like a big giant girl who smokes and says ‘shit’ a lot. You know?” I do. These two are more iconic than Thelma and Louise.