'Teen Wolf' fans come in all shapes and sizes

I nearly spit out my wassail when I saw "inspired by the movie Teen Wolf" at the tail end of an NFL newsbit on ESPN's bottom line. What in the world could anything in today's NFL have to do with the innocent hijinks of Teen Wolf? The answer was more bizzare than I ever could have imagined: Tampa Bay defensive tackle Greg White had changed his name to Stylez G. White:

White said he picked his new name from a character in the 1985 movie “Teen Wolf,’’ starring Michael J. Fox.

“That was his best friend’s name,’’ White said. “I always liked that name. It’s not that I don’t like Greg White.’’

I love that last part about not liking his previous name. Shouldn't we hope there was at least some extra motivation toward changing his name, beyond the fact that he "always liked" Styles' name?

Since the Stylez G. White incident scores sky high on the unlikely-ness scale, could these sports-movies collision headlines be far behind?

"Bill Parcells abruptly announces 'He's come home' at press conference."

"Tim Duncan getting the band back together; Blue Lou, Mr. Fabulous next on his list."

"Donovan McNabb seen pondering futility of humanity on a rainy rooftop while holding a dove."

"Tiger Woods drops out of tournament to spend more time looking for mysterious 'Arch Stanton' grave."

Of late I think of Silverton

Photo: Kim Murphy / LA Times

Like the main character in the Twilight Zone episode this post title refers to, I sometimes think wistfully of my time in a small town. If you come from a small town, you live for the day when you can brag about your hometown to the Big City Folks. Make them spit out their sip of Drambuie with a tale that rocks their concrete jungle to its brittle, cementy core. For me, that day has come. While I consider myself a native of Portland, a good bulk of my childhood (and all my high school years) took place in Silverton, Ore., where the nation's first openly transgender mayor was recently elected.

Yes, the picture you see is of Stu Rasmussen (aka Carla Fung), who will take the reins of a town where "rapid development" is a bad word, but "breasts on a 60-year-old man" is old hats. Since Stu's victory, Silverton has received unprecedented media attention, stretching from Portland to Los Angeles. You might be asking how a man like Stu could be elected mayor in a small, conservative town. I would then remind you that Stu was Silverton's mayor nearly 20 years ago, except back then he wore jeans and flannel shirts, covering up what minimal cleavage he had. Stu's ascent to womanhood began slowly, occasionally adding red high heels to go with those jeans, or suddenly showing off his exquisitely painted red fingernails. So when Stu decided to add "the twins" (as he calls them) to his resume, it was met with nary a shrug to those who know the man. If you think his story sounds like a character from a Tim Burton (Amazing Larry, maybe?) or John Waters movie, you're not alone. Or maybe only a skilled monologuist could do true justice to Stu's tale.


The last time Silverton caught the nation's eye was in 1923, when Bobbie the Wonder Dog became America's favorite four-legged hero. Have you seen the Bruce Willis-Billy Bob Thornton movie Bandits? Much of the filming took place in Silverton, yet Hollywood has never again come calling. And so it has come that the national spotlight is again cast on sleepy Silverton, and as is our small town humble nature, we can only reply with "please, we serve no froie gras here, go on your merry way and let us live our lives in peace. Just because we elected to mayor a man who prefers to wear cocktail dresses that best show off his ample cleavage, does not make us any different from nearby Stayton or Mt. Angel."

Stu will make a good mayor, and I say that as someone who knew him before the breasts and makeup. I know him as the proprietor of as fine a small town movie house you could ask for. Like his father before him, Stu has run The Palace Theater in Silverton. It was once boasted to have the state's largest screen (a claim that was never independently verified), but what cannot be argued is that The Palace was always clean, with many perfectly functional seats, and the best snow cones in town. I have Stu to thank for many of my favorite theatrical experiences. It was at The Palace where I once proclaimed Under Siege to be my favorite movie of 1992, where I laughed my way through Groundhog Day, watched a friend of mine wipe tears from her face at the end of Mrs. Doubtfire and had a riot of a time taking in Event Horizon in a very loud audience.

But the movie-going moment I most have to thank Stu for is the midnight showing of Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace. Yes, it's a terrible movie that's rightly reviled, but there was a moment in time when it seemed the whole world couldn't wait to see it, and people were waiting in line for months to get a ticket. I was resigned to the fact that I would need to make a late-night trek to Salem or Portland and wait in line for a ticket, when one day I drove past The Palace and saw the Star Wars title listed on the large marquee. "Episode 1, in Silverton?" It was true, Stu had secured the movie for opening weekend, at a theater where first-run movies usually took 2-3 weeks to arrive. Better yet, a midnight showing was planned, complete with a costume contest.

I'll never forget the collectible tickets Stu had printed up for the opening: thick blue card stock with sparkly ink (I still have my ticket buried away somewhere). The midnight showing ended up a sellout, and of course Stu was dressed up as Princess Padme. He even had the courtesy to include the trailers for the original three Star Wars before the main feature. And as I trudged out of the theater slightly in a daze over what I had just seen, I couldn't shake the smile off my face from how perfectly the evening played out. Thank you Stu, and good luck as mayor (again).

Two stupid signs for your enjoyment

If you've followed this blog for long, you know I don't often post about the local business scene here in Boise. In fact, this is the first time. But yesterday I saw two pieces of signage so incomprehensibly stupid, it just had to be shared with everyone.


Let's start with the worst offender first. This new business manages to combine one of the English language's worst adjectives (pasty), with one of the world's greatest treasures (pies), and ties it all up by adding "fresh" to the mix. My first thought was: My God, did they actually mis-spell "pastry"? But that didn't make much sense, because "pastry pie" is so unnaturally redundant (along the lines of "alcohol beer"). I investigated further, and saw that the menu on the wall has only three items: Pasty Pie, Salad and Pop. What, no dessert?

Further research revealed a "pasty pie" to be a staple cuisine of Michigan's Upper Peninsula, a meat pie of sorts. Beyond the fact that Boise was never clamoring for the culinary delicacies of Northern Michigan, there's the reality that this restaurant has "pasty" in its name. Outside of certain parts of Michigan, this word does not inspire an appetite, and most people would like to go their whole life without having to associate "pasty" with anything food-related. I will add that the previous tenant of this space was a take-and-bake pizza joint, and if that business didn't last a year I'm only giving Fresh Pasty Pies a couple months.

Most people won't be annoyed by this one, but I'm still shaking my head. I knew Hollywood Video was having its troubles, but Mark's Video? That would be a bland name in 1985, when every other video store was called "Video Mania" or "Video Chest." There's no Wikipedia page for Mark's Video, and no Web site either. All I could find was this article detailing how 20 Hollywood Video stores will be re-branded, as part of a settlement between Movie Gallery and Mark Whattler, Hollywood Video's founder and former owner. Apparently, Whattler was behind in this re-branding effort:

Wattles, who is squabbling with Movie Gallery over the reasonable amount of time it takes to switch branding for the 20 stores, said he had planned to move Hollywood Video and Game Crazy away from movie rental and toward videogame rental before he sold the chains to Movie Gallery, according to the report.

Honestly, how much time does he need to tie a sign over the Hollywood Video logo?

The kid's got potential

"Hey Dad, what's this Straw Dogs movie about? What kind of dogs are in it?"

"Eh, only way to find out is to just watch it for myself."

Yes, you can go home to EV-426 again

Ever since Bill Paxson's character said "game over, man!" Aliens has been a movie pleading for a high quality video game to call its own, and miraculously we finally have that game in Aliens: Extermination. I say miraculously because 1. This is actually the third attempt at creating an Aliens arcade game (1990's Aliens was a standard side-scroller shooter -- albeit with a fun final stage based on the climactic power loader scene -- while 1993's Alien 3: The Gun merged the second and third installments of the series into a well-meaning, but familiar shoot-em-up), and 2. the arcade game industry is currently in its dimmest state in decades, with paltry new offerings that focus mostly on novelty. Through all of this, we have Aliens: Extermination, and even though it came out in 2006, it's still new to most of us since actually finding a newly-released arcade game is a game itself.

I had little hope of finding Extermination after reading about it last year, but as the saying goes: "Walk down the wrong alley in Boise, and if your expectations are low enough, you can find just about anything." Well I found it, and damn am I happy I did. Remember the Terminator 2 arcade game? Arnie himself wouldn't go back to that game after playing Extermination, it has to be considered one of the best movie-based video games of all time.


As you can see from the image above Extinction is a shoot-em-up, but it brings a lot to the table than simply pulling the trigger and aiming. It takes you deep into the Aliens world, giving you the role of a marine landing on EV-426, just as in the movie. You'll see a few Aliens landmarks and moments here and there, but it's mostly a new spin on the movie with the likes of android enemies and different strains of the alien species.

The most familiar Aliens artifact is the life-size pulse rifle that serves as the game's controller -- it comes complete with the familiar two-digit ammo counter on the back. For those of you who have fantasized about Michael Biehn lovingly explaining how to load a magazine into a machine gun, you've found your game. The ammo counter on the gun is crucial, as unlike most games of the genre you actually have a limited amount of your base ammunition, and once it's gone you'll be reduced to using a humble pistol against the hordes of aliens. In addition to pulse rifle rounds, a button under the gun's barrel allows you to operate a flame thrower and another button lets you throw grenades and laser-guided missiles. These controls open up a myriad of offensive options, as in any given fire fight you could find yourself firing the pulse rifle, flame thrower, grenade and pistol in rapid succession without taking your eyes off the battle at hand.

The action in the game is as furious as you want it, and at some parts you may find yourself screaming "Oh you want some too?" like Paxson's character does -- unfortunately there's no option to pull the pin on a grenade when you're out of ammo like our fellow marine Vasquez. It gets so chaotic that the rumbling gun often leaves your hand feeling like mush -- so walk it off, OK, marine? With four long missions taking you through every corner and depth of EV-426, Aliens: Extermination is a dream for any fan of the movie ... as long as you can find it.

Trailer vs. Trailer

Today I present two trailers for upcoming movies, one that surprised me at how good it looked and one that looks shockingly bad:

As a football fan, I usually find myself bitching about football movies, instead of trying to enjoy them. It's probably the same way with glass movers and car chase movies. There's always something with the football part of it that's enough to drive me crazy, and keep me from enjoying it. It's rare I find myself looking forward to a football movie, but that's exactly the case with The Express: The Ernie Davis Story. For college football fans, there's a lot to like here: the name (nice retro structure), an authentic CGI recreation of Syracuse's defunct Archbold Stadium, and the fact that it's based on Davis, one of history's greatest forgotten football stars. But what really pleases me is the way the movie's trailer is handled, that is they leave out any mention of Davis' tragic final chapter.

Davis was the first black player to win the Heisman Trophy, then tragically died from leukemia two years later, never playing a down of pro football. It would be easy to show in the trailer that the movie ends up being a weepie, but the images are all about action and Conquering Obstacles. In an age where all of Tropic Thunder's funny lines are put in the trailer, I find this refreshing.

Now for something completely revolting: Lakeview Terrace. This movie brings to the forefront the fear of many people: living next door to Samuel L. Jackson ... the cop ... who doesn't like interracial marriage. I can understand why this movie was made -- since 2008 was in fear of not having a Sam Jackson Screams movie, and the perils of interracial marriage is a topic everyone likes examining. Oh, and it's PG-13. Has it won you over yet? See if you can count how many lines in the trailer make you grit your teeth, I got 9 (my favorite: "I'm a cop, you have to do what I say!"). The scene with Jackson trying to cut down their trees looks promising.

Not so fast, Obama

Congratulations, Mr. Obama, you’ve accepted the presidential nomination of the Democratic Party. But why all the celebrating? I hope you’re not forgetting this little matter of the Test of the Burning Blades, are you? Have you forgotten that our nation was put under a curse millennia ago by a Chinese god, and the only way to appease him is by electing a—

What? That was just a misunderstanding? No more Test of the Burning Blades? Then why are we still funding the test and subjecting thousands of people to burnt and cut hands?

OK, so you don’t have to worry about that one, Mr. Obama, but you do know that anyone who comes to Denver (where the Treemen reside) must battle the Wood Beast, right? It’s a simple game, just stick your hand into one of these knotholes – your fate will guide you. And I don’t need to remind you that the Wood Beast’s sting is so –

No -- the Wood Beast is an endangered species now? Exploiting its deadly sting is no longer an option? What am I going to do with this giant stump?


Yes, Mr. Obama, luck seems to be on your side tonight. But there's no luck to be found inside The Cave, in there is only what you can take with you --

You're kidding, why is there an old couch inside the Cave? And a Wii is set up in there too? Goddammit, what good is the Cave if there's more inside than just what you can take with you?


So it seems like you're getting off pretty easy, Barack -- or are you? You may not know that to leave this stadium, you have to leap from the Lion's Head in a Test of Faith, you'll see that --

No. No, no, no, no. The Leap of Faith got shut down? Bunch of tourists from Nevada fell to their death? Why did they keep trying? Just exit from the loading dock. Congratulations on your nomination. Good luck giving your acceptance speech without the blessing of the Jade Monkey.

The first step toward a 'Ferris Bueller' remake?

I opened my new Car and Driver today to find something both tantalizing and disturbing. Pictured on page 29 were the first official pictures of Ferrari's next dream offering, an updating of the classic 250 GT California. The C/D curmudgeons predictably panned its styling, but I have to say it's the best looking new Ferrari since the 360 Modena -- everything past the rear wheels looks too much like a Lexus SC 430, but the rest of the car is a stunning tribute to the original California.

I'm getting to the movie aspect of this post -- if the name 250 GT California doesn't ring a bell for you, maybe this will:


Yes, the "gemballa" sports car that was the central prop in Ferris Bueller's Day Off. Because there wouldn't have been a remake of The Italian Job without the neo-retro Mini Coopers making their entrance, could this have the same effect on the John Hughes comedy? Actually, I would predict sequel before remake, and I've had this idea in my head for awhile: it's the same plot as the original, except Ferris is grown up and he has to take a day off from his dead-end job, without his wife and kids (or boss) finding out. Of course he needs Cameron's help, and with his dad's inheritance he just purchased ... a new Ferrari California! It practically writes itself.

Turning the page(s)

It's a perfectly hot Sunday morning. The only sounds in the house are coming from my new HD-DVD of Zodiac (more on that this week), and I am able to gaze upon the wonderful librarian-ish character my Chloe Sevigny plays in the movie (wearing a turtleneck, unfashionable glasses and a heart necklace to dinner with Jake Gyllenhall's Robert Graysmith .... ah, Chloe). Where was I? Oh, yeah librarians -- I hear they deal in books, as does the meme Thom Ryan and Bob Turnbull tagged me with. Regrettably, I rarely talk about books because I have pitifully little experience with them as the stinking black sheep of a family of paper lions (including one librarian). Here's the meme rules:

1. Pick up the nearest book.
2. Open to page 123.
3. Locate the fifth sentence.
4. Post the next three sentences on your blog and in so doing…
5. Tag five people, and acknowledge who tagged you

The nearest book to me is actually a source of embarrassment (like most of the few books I own): I want to read No Country for Old Men, and I've liked the 14 pages I've read so far. There it is atop my DVD rack mocking me with the quiet hiss of a captive bolt pistol, and here's what it has to offer from page 123:

I know they's a lot of things in a family history that just plain aint so. Any family. The stories get passed on and the truth gets passed over.

I know I need to read this book, and I even set out to spend a flight to Portland doing just that, but I ended up trying to listen to the boring conversation behind me. Someday I'll finish it, and I might even write a few words about it.

I've tagged the following:

Any blogger who has more than one flavor of ice cream in their freezer (Neopolitan counts as one flavor).

The Blog Sleep

There are thousands of stories in Print City, this is one of them...

The Front Row district of Print City is notoriously rough, but lately the obituaries have been longer than a director's cut of a Bertolucci film. While the average lifespan is criminally low -- most people don't survive to see their third anniversary -- recently a few heavyweights have gone belly-up before their time. Looking for reading material at the Corner Store (makes for good conversation in the coat-check line), I found some of my favorite racks were gathering dust. Jeb behind the counter is tight with his information, so I paid double for my usual pickled egg. His scoop was that the guy next door left for big-light dreams, one of the few friendly faces Downtown was recently locked out, and another veteran put up the "closed" sign abruptly. Jeb's news didn't surprise me -- if you let things catch you off guard in Front Row, you won't last long -- but the nugget he gave me while I bit into my pickled egg (Jeb's never been one for timing) elevated my right eyebrow, like that elevator at the department store that always stops on the second floor (ladies casual), no matter how many times you hit the button for the fourth (intimates).

"...and Larry's gone."

"He'll be back."

"Not this time..."

I knew any further prodding of Jeb would necessitate a second pickled egg purchase, and I could tell it wasn't one of his better batches. So I walked it alone under the flickering neon light, and even though my new superior at the home office probably had an urgent matter to see me about (probably something about a diaper), instincts told me to stop at my Front Row haunt to take a deeper look into these recent departures. Larry's abrupt disappearance was troubling, as he was a daily read for me -- but the bigger question was who's next? Four's a trend where I come from, and I don't mean a trend like the flavored cigarettes I smelled at the bar last night. With my nose for justice, I felt it was my obligation to find the root of this problem and stop it before another publication was rubbed out.

Just as this thought entered my head, a comment was slipped under my door. I raced to open my door, but the person's shadow had just escaped into the street. The comment was from "Anonymous," and it read "this isn't your game, give up before it's you who gets deleted." Now I knew I was waist-deep in this mess -- and I'm not talking about my garbage disposal disaster from last month. It was time to scare up my sources, namely someone who keeps his ear close to the ground. Moviezzz is just such a source, and he's low to the ground because he shines shoes -- but for an extra large tip he'll give me more than what makes front page news. I hand him the anonymous comment as he cracked open a new can of Kiwi.

"Looks like trouble, but whoever wrote it may have accidentally left you a clue."

"How do you figure?"

"Don't you know someone who's fond of games?"

Moviezzz was right, as usual, and I flipped him an extra dime. Yes, games, as in trivia, as in ol' Johnny Lapper and his famous trivia games. If it wasn't for a generous helping of the shakes, I might have triumphed in Lapper's latest game, but he was wiley enough to fool me. Not this time. It would make sense that someone with such a devious need for attention would resort to knocking off other publishers, but knowing him he won't go down easy. Unlucky for me, Johnny's place was dark -- but I did find an invitation to a dance sticking out of his mailbox.

Classy Marilyn was staging a dance the week away affair, and her place was hopping. It was easy to find Johnny on the dance floor, he might as well have had a custom banner above his head.

"You like games, Johnny boy?"

"Ross, you lost -- that doesn't mean you have to like it. And it also doesn't mean you have to mess up my steps."

"I ain't talkin' mere trivia games, seems you like to dabble in more bloody affairs. Know anything about Larry?"

"Yeah, he disappeared, it happens in this city."

"Strange that you were the first one to report on his absence, how is it that you got the scoop?"

"I don't reveal my sources," Johnny said, poking at his neat J&B. "And I don't let mugs like you waste precious minutes of my evening. Larry was an odd duck -- he never archived, he once went a whole month just talking about the same actor, who does that? Nobody."

"Correction -- now nobody does it, why were you so eager to see him go?"

"I don't have anything to hide, I was here dancing before Larry's last update -- ask anyone here," Johnny said, glancing to a gathering crowd of displeased onlookers. "I'll tell you this: Larry didn't finish his last update, but supposedly the title was 'There Will Be Blood,' and sure enough the garbage men were scrubbing it off the sidewalk the next day. Maybe he knew trouble was coming..."

A juicy answer, but it only meant more questions, good thing I didn't plan on sleeping (until I got tired, anyway). On my way out I saw Marilyn holding a tray of gin gimlets. I grabbed one for the road, and she gave me a glance that said "did you get my dance invitation in the mail?" and I responded with a nod that told her "I got it, but I couldn't find my dance shoes."

Leaving the dance hall, I could feel a break in the case rolling at me like that ball that someone just threw at me from a passing hardtop. Ouch! Who threw that? Picking up the ball ready to throw it back, I noticed it was no ordinary ball. It was a baseball autographed by ... Lee Van Cleef? This peculiar combination could have only come from one place: Dennis Cazzalio's baseball-themed drive-in on the West end of town.

He calls it Sergio Leone and the Infield Fly Rule. A strange name, but probably better than my suggestion: Paradise by the Dashboard Light. On the subway ride over, it occurred to me that Johnny wasn't the only one with early news of Larry's departure -- Dennis had also penned a going-away note that read strangely like a eulogy. An effective ploy to draw the blame away from himself, much like how I brought an oversized wreath to the funeral for my brother's hamster. The lot at Dennis' was packed as usual, and tonight he was showing some perverse mishmash of movie and television clips that seemed to require a college kid's attention span to keep up with.

"Not your style, stranger?" Dennis quizzed.

"No, I'm in the mood for something more serious, I've been having trouble focusing ever since someone hit me with a changeup on the Avenue," I said while paging through some newspaper clippings near the snack bar. "How does it feel to sit behind that snack bar?"

"Almost like holding a gun ... only much more powerful."

"Your friends have a high mortality rate, Dennis."

"I've never killed anything -- and especially never a writer. It would be like killing a priest -- a Catholic priest. What do you want? Who are you?"

"Matt Zoller Seitz," I said, trying to catch him off guard.

"Matt's gone."

"Glenn Kenny."

"What's your name? Glenn's gone too!"

"You should know Dennis, better than anyone," I said, in an attempt to bluff the man into a confession. "They were writing until they met you."

"Don't talk about what you don't know," Dennis said as he put his hands on the snack bar and leaned toward me. "I knew Matt, I knew Glenn, and I definitely knew Larry. They're gone now, and someday you and I will be gone as well."

"Larry once told me I could never be like him," I said, facing the facts that I may never solve this case. "Now I understand why."

"So, you found out you're not a shamus after all," Dennis asked.

"Just a writer."

"An ancient race. And other publishers from Downtown will be along, and they'll kill off Front Row."

"The future don't matter to us," I lamented. "Nothing matters now -- not the comments, not the visitors, not the women. I came here to see you. 'Cause I know that now, you'll tell me who's going to be next."

"Not till the point of dying," Dennis said as he slinked into the projection booth to put on the final reel of The Movie Orgy.

I don't think I'll ever know if Dennis was serious with that line. Maybe I don't want to know. Whatever his intentions were, I didn't want to kill the man for the information I needed. At this point it didn't matter, because all I was thinking about was getting home to my new boss. My phone was buzzing with the kind of grunts that only come from a 5-month-old child about to wake up, so I had precious remaining minutes to finish whatever investigation I was still pursuing.

Ahead of me on the street I saw Chris Stangl painting on a fresh canvas. Chris has the rare ability to reproduce his dreams with colors, and perhaps they had something to say about my pursuit.

"Roll the bones, Chris. What do they say tonight? I'm desperate for answers."

"The door to your answer is right in front of you," Chris said without removing his eyes from his art. "Sometimes a name is everything."

I was out of money so I dropped the Lee Van Cleef ball in Chris' collection plate. The advice sounded genuine, so I raced through my mental rolodex of names: Piper (is he tooting a tune leading all the writers out of town?), Ted Pigeon (is the culprit waiting for me by the fountain like so many birds?), Arbogast (is this the reason he hides his identity?) -- all of them seemed suspicious but none deserved a shake down at this time of night. This case was getting cold, but I couldn't help the feeling that I needed to take a final l -- wait, that's it! Final ... Final Girl! The motives were all clear: Stacie Ponder's obsession with the last remaining horror movie heroines had clouded her judgment, and now she must become the literal Final Girl of Front Row. Approaching her digs on Descent Drive, I just hoped I wasn't too late.


Seeing the pile of unopened comments at her door, I knew my fears were real -- it was Wednesday so Stacie was at her new place Downtown for the day. Just my luck, looks like one man is powerless in this city to stop a greater evil. But as I turned down the street heading for my place, an illuminated cat in a doorway caught my eye -- were those shoes sitting next to it? Great, am I going to be the next one to bite the dust?


"What kind of a spy do you think you are, satchel-foot? What are you tailing me for? Cat got your tongue?"

My outbursts are greeted by silence from the doorway, and only succeed in waking up one of Stacie's neighbors.

"Come out, come out, whoever you are. Step out in the light. Let's have a look at ya. (The cat licks its paw.) Who's your boss?"

Just as I was about to turn and run for it, Stacie's irate neighbor turned on her bedroom light, flashing a beam of light into the dark doorway. The light revealed a face unfamiliar to me, but the look on it told me everything I needed to know.

"Larry."

He flashed a coy smile, but before I could cross the street and find out his story, a taxi raced in front of me. And like that, he was gone. Leaping over to where the missing publisher once stood, I saw a single white card was now in his place. There was writing on it ... and it told me exactly what I had been looking for all night. Larry's safe, but there's a lot of publishers who aren't, and one in particular who may be gone by morning. That fight would have to wait for someone else, as the crying I could hear down the street could only be coming from one crib.

There are thousands of stories in Print City, this was one of them ....

14 years of Turner Classic Movies

Fate is a strange beast. Today I decided to check out the Wikipedia page for Turner Classic Movies and discovered the anniversary of its creation is ... April 14! Surely this must be a sign from the weird hat-wearing dude on TCM's logo that a tribute to the channel is in order.

According to the aforementioned Wikipedia page, it was in 1994 that TCM was born to supplant TNT as the Turner Empire's flagship purveyor of its immense film catalog. The channel's traits reads just like a cinephile's late-night If I Ran the Zoo ramblings: "It won't have any commercials! No re-colorization! It'll have authentic aspect ratios! Diverse programming! An informative host! And after midnight we'll have nothing but ass, ass, ass!" Okay so some of us have different ramblings, but the channel remains a film fan's dream come true. And really, have you ever stopped to think about just how good we have it with TCM?

Sometimes it hits me, like the realization that it NEVER pops up a graphic to tell you what movie you're watching (probably a goodwill gesture to those who still tape record off it for their home library). Or that TCM's catalog is so vast that its programming never becomes predictable? Contrast that to American Movie Classics (AMC), where in the past two months I've surfed past it to find Robert Redford's by-the-numbers Brubaker no less than FOUR TIMES? It's also nice to see how seriously TCM treats a movie's original aspect ratio, for example The Night of the Hunter was the subject of The Essentials this weekend and was presented in its OAR of 1.66:1, as opposed to the movie's full frame treatment on DVD.

TCM has played a huge role in my life as a film fan. I have always enjoyed classic movies, but it wasn't until I got my first DVR in 2003 that I really started to discover film noir, classic westerns and the best directors and actors. Being able to set recordings and save them for later transformed TCM for me from just another channel to a virtual on-demand service of classic films. I've seen movies on TCM in that time period that I now consider among my favorites, such as Point Blank, Laura, Fort Apache, The 39 Steps, The Wrong Man, Tomb of Ligeia and The Unknown. While my house is temporarily without a DVR, it's actually increased my appreciation for TCM since I now just turn it on to see what's playing and have watched a few movies I probably wouldn't have recorded (I was surprised by The Buccaneer in the channel's Charlton Heston tribute).

It's a tall order to uniquely program 24 hours of movies, but an even greater tribute to TCM's attention to detail are the introductions and trivia by Robert Osborne and Ben Mankiewicz for almost every movie. Both men treat their jobs like they're setting up a movie being shown in a living room, and come off as enthusiastic film scholars, not actors reading cue-cards. New wrinkles to TCM have been TCM Underground, an after hours psychotronic sampler (featuring the channel's premiere of Suburbia this weekend) and ongoing invitations to guest programmers, who join Osborne and explain why they picked the three films for that evening. The latter brings out the best in Osborne, and is continually entertaining because of the diversity of the guests -- tonight was Alex Trebek, and Evander Holyfield was a recent participant.

Such improvements to TCM can only mean the future is bright, but I have one crazy idea that could throw the cinephile community on its ear: TCM HD. Can you imagine turning on your TV and finding The Adventures of Robin Hood in 720p? Or The Haunting? Or Marnie? The way I see it, TCM exists because it acts as a 24-hour commercial for DVDs -- which would explain why other major studios have opened up their catalogs to the channel. This would make sense for HD, because it would show what black and white can look like in high definition, and motivate more people to upgrade to Blu-Ray.

Well, it's another dream. Happy 14th, TCM.

Shot through the heart, and who's to blame?

Arbogast not only informs, he also inspires! Arby's latest post got me thinking, so much so that my thoughts could not be confined to a mere comment. The masked one wonders aloud about shotguns and horror films, and when the two became joined at the lead-filled hip. It's a great observation, as it seems for the past decade or two the shotgun has become the must-have horror prop, replacing the torch and mysterious village of past eras (another question: when did vampires start making that noise when they gnashed their teeth? You know the noise, and I'm pretty sure Bela Lugosi never made it).

I started thinking about shotguns and film and came up with two more questions: 1. Was horror the first genre to catch on to the coolness of shotguns? 2. Why do shotguns work so well in movies?

With the first question, I thought back to my favorite film shotguns: Mad Max's pistol-gripped double barrel, used to cerebral smashing effect in the final chase of The Road Warrior; and Sarah Connor's iconic one-armed pumping of her street sweeper in Terminator 2. Those were good guns, but did they truly set the bar? My thoughts eventually took me back to one of my favorite movies that contains probably the most influential violence of any film:

Notice the Bunch's choice of firearm? Yesssss. In terms of guns, The Wild Bunch is best remembered for Bill Holden's pry-it-from-my-cold-dead-hands performance on the Browning M1917, but the legendary opening parade shootout is bombastically opened by a chorus of shotguns. In one shot, we see Ernest Borgnine operating a shotgun at a rate of speed that appears physically impossible -- apparently pumping and shooting in one motion. To list the ways The Wild Bunch revolutionized the Western is a post unto its own, but one of Sam Peckinpah's radical additions to the genre has to be his characters' dismissal of the traditional pistols. One of the most obvious Western canons was a six shooter or two on our hero's hip, but these renegades are interested in staying alive, and that means mowing down rows of bad guys in black hats.

On to the second question: why shotguns? My view is that shotguns are easier to work with in terms of action direction, and they satisfy today's audiences' desire to see bad guys get their due a few times over. Getting shot by a pistol is old money -- either the character clutches a chest wound and slowly dies, or the female character later treats the man's shoulder injury. A machine gun reaks of Cannon productions from the 80s, with villains sustaining numerous hits and reacting to each one with appropriate over-acting. A shotgun delivers more drama because it can blow off a limb (RoboCop) or head (Dawn of the Dead), or simply launch a character off-screen.

There's also the matter of re-loading a shotgun. Feeding in a stream of shells one-by-one builds more tension and looks more satisfying than simply grabbing a fresh magazine (or pitifully re-filling a revolver's chambers). And then there's the pump-action, the ch-chk! as Arbogast puts it. There was a time when characters set the hammer on their pistol for dramatic effect, but what good is a simple click when you can have an empowering pump-pump? And I think part of the pump action's appeal is that it seems practical, even people who have no experience with guns can probably see themselves pumping a shotgun.

I see the shotgun's run going for another decade, but what will the next "it" firearm be? I'm holding out hope for the wrist-mounted mini crossbow.

Have you hugged your childhood nightmares lately?

Thanks to Stacie Ponder for introducing me to the twisted wonder that is Kindertrauma, an insanely fun site that now counts me as a devoted reader. In addition to spotlighting forgotten television horrors as Ghostwatch and Summer of Fear (I MUST see this movie) or traumatic movies like Flowers in the Attic and Return to Oz, they also have a feature called Traumafessions, which invites readers to submit their scariest childhood TV or movie moments. Reading through the Traumafessions, you'll find yourself saying "Word" to at least a few of them -- for me it was Where the Red Fern Grows (icky bit about falling on an ax), the Creepers VHS cover (I'll never forget the first time I saw it at a video store) and Poltergeist II (I still don't trust old men in hats).

OK enough about them -- time to talk about me (sorry)! Now you can read my Traumafession, in which I reach all the way back to 1989 and a particularly creepy episode of Freddy's Nightmares. But don't just read it, send in a Traumafession of your own!

My Dinner with Roger

Meme maestro Piper has unleashed his latest viral creation, and this one has a culinary twist:

My Dinner with [blank]:

1. Pick a single person past or present who works in the film industry you would like to have dinner with. And tell us why you chose this person.
2. Set the table for your dinner. What would you eat? Would it be in a home or at a restaurant? And what would you wear? Feel free to elaborate on the details.
3. List five thoughtful questions you would ask this person during dinner.
4. When all is said and done, select six bloggers to pass this Meme along to.
5. Link back to Lazy Eye Theatre, so people know the mastermind behind this Meme.

Piper set his table for a Michael Bay ambush, while Bob Turnbull (who tagged yours truly) invited a few notable guests.

I was having trouble coming up with my dinner guest, but a few things I read on Friday sealed it for me. In case you haven't noticed, Roger Ebert is indeed back -- as evidenced by a few recent reviews that qualify as Elite Ebert, reviews you find yourself going back to and reading again. His burying of The Bucket List was especially pleasing after being repeatedly assaulted by "are you going to drive it or buy it a dress?" on its awful trailer. Ebert's harsh reviews are often more entertaining than movie reviews should be, especially since his shots are factual and pretty honest. A rarer breed of Ebert review is when he goes outside the box for a by-the-numbers movie. Perhaps the most famous of this is his Milk Money review, and he recently went that route again with his take on Mad Money. I'm an unabashed Ebert fan boy, and I've been reading his reviews practically since the first day I had Internet access.

The setting: Food Network has taught me that Chicagoans enjoy their deep dish pizza and hot dogs. I'm sure Roger is no different, so I wouldn't want to compromise his usual diet. With that said, Roger and I are heading to Uno's Pizza.

Adam: I picked Uno's so I could get an authentic "slice" of the real Chicago.

Roger: Actually, deep dish meat lover's pizza isn't the best thing for someone who's recovering from salivary gland cancerous surgery.

Adam: Don't worry, I had the foresight to order a large Hawaiian as well. Now, your wife's name is "Chaz," that sounds like a movie character's name.

Roger: Sometimes I kid her that she should be in one of those new teen movies where all the female characters have masculine names. .

Adam: Speaking of women, your lone screenwriting credit was for Russ Meyer's classic Beyond the Valley of the Dolls, have you ever considered getting back into the movie biz?

Roger: I had a lot of time on my hands during my extended hospital stay, at one point I had written the next great science fiction saga, about aliens trying to steal the world's energy supply -- it would be called Mars Needs Oil and end with a powerful message about the importance of hybrid vehicles.

Adam: Fascinating, what happened to it?

Roger: Hospital politics, I'll leave it at that.

Adam: You once said that video games "could not be art," do you still hold that opinion?

Roger: No. My idle hands at the hospital led me to a device called "Guitar Hero 2," and it changed my outlook on video games. While video games may not actually be art, the music of Black Sabbath unquestionably is. So when I'm able to rock away to War Pigs from the comfort of my bed, well -- I think calling that "art" would be an understatement.

Adam: Thank you, Roger. The balcony is closed.

Quick rundown of the evening

Snow on the ground
The new Shining DVD playing
Maker's Mark egg nog in hand
Presents under the tree
World's greatest enchiladas in the oven
It's dark out
My wife could go into labor at any moment
Not wearing sunglasses yet

Merry Christmas.

Good reads, bad radio

I've been out of action lately while tending to a pregnant wife and a kitchen in disrepair, but I'm back in the lineup beginning this week. While I've been behind in my writing, I've kept up in my reading, and have these gems to pass along:

-- Good gracious, have you seen what Chris Stangl is up to now? Chris presents The Ballad of the Hermeneutic Circle: An Essay on the State of Film Blogging, 2007 -- it's a richly illustrated comic starring the author and many key film issues of the year. The 15-page adventure comes at you in one page installments. Wow!

-- Alan at Burbanked has never been one to be confined by traditional blogging, but now he's really broken out of his template. Again re-working his site, Burbanked now takes advantage of every line of HTML to give you an overflowing page of info and humor. My Action Figure Mood Indicator is set at Stunned.

-- If you're not caught up with Thom Ryan's ambitious Film of the Year, don't ask for sympathy -- just head over there and read his 1941 entry for Citizen Kane. And if anyone over there gives you trouble, "have your man call him ... an anarchist!"

-- Joseph B. has some good picks for movies that freaked you out as a child. Joseph tipped me off that one of my freaky movies of old, The Peanut Butter Solution, is available to watch in its entirety on Google Video. I was able to watch it for the first time in maybe 20 years, and will have my thoughts on the matter up here later this week.

-- Stacie Ponder concluded her week-long look at the best of Amicus horror, with her take on Vault of Horror. As usual, there's no shortage of scary/funny screen grabs.

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Finally, I have some original horror to share with you. The following is a 100% factual transcript from a local radio station after they posed the question "can you name three Martin Scorsese films to win a $10 lottery ticket?" (All callers were 20-something males):

Caller 1: Ummmm, no.
Caller 2: Martin who?
Caller 3: No, sorry.
Caller 4: Let's see, The Departed, The Aviator ... what was that gangs film he made -- Teams of New York?
Caller 5: (sounding confident) The Departed, The Aviator, and ... I want to say, The Godfather?

By this point I was practically kicking in my radio while trying to navigate traffic. The sixth caller finally got it right, after which one of the DJs confessed he couldn't even name one of Scorsese's movies: "Didn't he direct Dog's Day Out?" he said, presumably referring to Dog's Day Afternoon.

Like I said, horror. The horror.

Why watch it when you can wear it?

My years of hard work toward finding an Internet t-shirt shop that fits my senselessly picky and narrow taste has finally paid off: presenting FoundItemClothing.com. Sitting here in my Senor Pizza t-shirt from Lover Boy, I just feel so complete that I had to spread the news. For you see, Found Item Clothing sells t-shirt designs that were worn by characters in movies.

"Wait, does that mean I can buy Cameron's Caduceus shirt from Ferris Bueller's Day Off?" Yup. "What about the 'Surf Nicaragua' shirt from Real Genius?" Yup. "Did you ever see the Get a Life episode where Chris Elliot goes to Handsome Boy Modeling School?" No, but they have.

And best of all, the company's founder shares his first name and hometown with me -- so I feel kind of obligated to point people in his direction. What scares me is that Adam's been in business for only a short time, so there's bound to be many more awesome designs coming down the pipeline (my short dream list would include Jack Burton's shirt from Big Trouble in Little China, and one with the logo of the burger place in Fast Food -- in both cases, only for their sheer obnoxiousness and obscurity).

And because I was so delighted to find Found Item Clothing, I figured I would have a few quick words with its founder:

DVD PANACHE: Reading your "about" section, you got into this initially as a way to get a Real Genius shirt for yourself, at what point did you see the potential for your own business?
FOUND ITEM CLOTHING: It was a slow process. Since there was no other way of getting my I love Toxic Waste shirt fix than to print my own, I had to do a minimum run of 25 to work with the printer I wanted. It was pretty slow for the first couple months, but I did sell enough shirts to make my money back. Then people started requesting shirts from other movies, and I started noticing a lot more shirts in movies too. I figured that if I could get to make my own shirts to wear and be able to cover my costs, that would be awesome. Then over the course of the last two years, the catalog of shirts has grown, and we've started to make a little money, but Ihaven't quit my day job yet...

DVD PANACHE: What are some other designs you're considering?
FOUND ITEM CLOTHING: Well, the end of this week will be "Stephen King Rules" from Monster Squad. Then in a couple weeks will be Booger's "High on Stress" shirt from Revenge of the Nerds. In November, we've got stuff form Rushmore and Roadhouse, and probably one more, but I haven't decided yet.

DVD PANACHE: I'm hoping to strike up a Loverboy conversation because of my shirt, do you find many strangers recognizing where your designs are from?
FOUND ITEM CLOTHING: Sadly, not that often. Maybe a couple times a year. The kids these days just have no appreciation for culture..

DVD PANACHE: Any chance I can get a matching Senor Pizza hat and fake mustache?
FOUND ITEM CLOTHING: Hmmm...I hadn't thought about it, but that would make an awesome Halloween costume. I've already got this year's stuff together for the new costume guide, but maybe next year.

(P.S. -- for skeptical mothers out there, the shirts are top notch quality as well, it doesn't fit me like a belly shirt or a flag like many other places out there).

It's my MEME and it freaks me out!

I can take a hint. Lucas at 100 Films and Alan at Burbanked have conspired to get me to do another meme. The rules of this one:

1. I have to post these rules before I give you the facts
2. I have to start with eight random facts/habits about myself
3. People who are tagged write their own blog about their eight things and post these rules
4. At the end of this post, I need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names. Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.

Sure, I'll do it -- but one catch: only five of mine are true, can you guess which ones?

1. I own the publishing rights to nine Black Oak Arkansas songs. It started out with me buying one on a lark, but now I can barely go a month without acquiring another.

2. My family lived briefly in Santa Barbara, Calif., and I went to preschool with Kenny Loggins' son, Crosby. The school was filled with spoiled brats, but he was the only one who wore a custom-molded Tron costume for Halloween. At the time I had no idea who his dad was, but when Crosby spoke of his father's fame, I assured him that my dad was much more famous than his (he accepted this at face value).

3. I'm a terrible music fan. I like music and all, but I never seek out new artists the way I do movies, and I'm ashamed to admit how few CDs and MP3s I own. Also, the few CDs I do buy are only for one or two songs and I never have the courage to listen to the rest of the album. It's always been this way: when I was growing up, I would just listen to whatever my younger brother was into at the time.

4. I don't read books. Never have, despite the fact that my parents, many of my relatives and my wife devour books like Eskimo Pies. On the few occasions that I do set out to read a book, it's a huge ordeal and takes much longer than it should. I read multiple newspapers each day and tons of news online, but not books -- I've accepted this as part of my personality.

5. In 1998, a casual argument resulted in my friend Carl falling into a volcano -- possibly as a result of my selfish actions -- and a glob of hot magma spewed out from his splashdown and hit me in the neck. I have made peace with this event, but every year since on the anniversary of the incident the scar on my neck turns black.

6. I try to get up every morning at 4 a.m. to watch a movie. This usually sounds crazy to people (including my wife), but with my current schedule it's really the most convenient time to do this. I started this ritual as a New Year's resolution to watch more movies and so far it's been a great success.

7. After a lifetime of denial, I finally started drinking coffee this year. Somewhere in my life I wasn't going to be a coffee drinker, and subsequently grew so dependent on a daily Red Bull that it had little effect on me by the time I went cold turkey. Needless to say, I'm living a richer life with coffee in my diet.

8. Because I was born on Old Witch Hat Mountain, I am one of the handful of people that are able to see the mythical structure when it appears biennially on June 25, floating above Ontario, Calif.

Now I'm required to "tag" eight other losers, but I'm just going to give a blanket call out to any Friday Screen Test alumni who haven't had the honor yet.

Class is in session ... again

If you thought spring break was going to be, well, a break -- then you obviously do not attend class at Dennis Cozzalio's Sergio Leone and the Infield Fly Rule, where vacations mean another hearty film quiz. Mr. Cozzalio has done this a few times before (he recently posted some of the best answers from his last quiz), and each time I was conspicuously absent. But this week I was in my seat and even turned in my results early, so take a look and by all means take Professor Iwin Corey's Foremostly Authoritative Spring Break Movie Quiz for yourself! Related: I am happy to announce that Dennis will be gracing this site with his presence for a future Friday Screen Test, stay tuned.

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1) What movie did you have to see multiple times before deciding whether you liked or disliked it?
I saw Eyes Wide Shut on three consecutive nights when it first came out. Each time I walked out with a different impression of it, and it wasn't really until my fifth viewing when I really wrapped my head around just what I it worked so well and what Kubrick was trying to say with it.

2) Inaugural entry into the Academy of the Overrated
The Blob (1958)

3) Favorite sly or not-so-sly reference to another film or bit of pop culture within another film.
There's a scene in Gremlins 2 of Leonard Maltin reviewing the movie Gremlins only to be attacked by gremlins. This attack is supposed to be happening during the time period of Gremlins 2, which raises way too many questions: Why was Leonard Maltin taping a review for a movie that came out six years ago? In the Gremlins 2 universe, was Gremlins actually a documentary, since the characters in it exist in Gremlins 2 and obviously lived through the original movie? Did the events of Gremlins 2 inspire a similar documentary? Why didn't any of the characters in Gremlins 2 simply say 'didn't you see the movie Gremlins?' when trying to explain the monsters?

4) Favorite Michael Powell/Emeric Pressburger movie
'I Know Where I'm Going!'

5) Your favorite Oscar moment
Elizabeth Taylor groaning before announcing that The Silence of the Lambs had beaten out Beauty and the Beast for Best Picture in 1991.

6) Hugo Weaving or Guy Pearce?
Even though I've been mightily impressed by Pearce's recent roles, I have to go with Hugo: He's Nigerian, he has The Eyebrows, he has The Voice, he's Nigerian.

7) Movie that you feel gave you the greatest insight into a world/culture/person/place/event that you had no understanding of before seeing it
Boys Don't Cry, I had never actually believed that people lived in Nebraska.

8) Favorite Samuel Fuller movie
Underworld U.S.A.

9) Monica Bellucci or Maria Grazia Cucinotta?
N/A

10) What movie can take a nothing day and suddenly make it all seem worthwhile?
Thankfully this is a long list for me, and it includes: The Royal Tenenbaums, The 'burbs, Ride the High Country, Ghostbusters and This is Spinal Tap.

11) Conversely, what movie can destroy a day’s worth of good humor just by catching a glimpse of it while channel surfing?
Any movie completely lacking in joy or creativity, this list is always headed by Last House on the Left, though thankfully I've never seen it on TV.

12) Favorite John Boorman movie
Point Blank, one of my all-time favorites.

13) Warren Oates or Bruce Dern?
Wow this is a tough one, but I'll have to go with Warren Oates because I've almost seen his entire body of work, while I have quite a ways to go with Dern. I also loved how Oates worked his whole career as a background character until Sam Peckinpah finally found a leading role that suited him perfectly ...

14) Your favorite aspect ratio
I wish I had a preference on this, but as long as it's not panned and scanned I'm happy.

15) Before he died in 1984, Francois Truffaut once said: “The film of tomorrow will resemble the person who made it.” Is there any evidence that Truffaut was right? Is it Truffaut’s tomorrow yet?
I don't think that future is possible, nor has it ever been because films for a long time have been born from a wide variety of influences and rarely exhibit any more than a sliver of who is truly making them.

16) Favorite Werner Herzog movie
Fitzcarraldo by a nose over Aguirre: Wrath of God.

17) Favorite movie featuring a rampaging, oversized or otherwise mutated beast, or beasts
Well, I know that Troll 2 is certainly my favorite movie featuring 'monstrous beasts.'

18) Sandra Bernhard or Sarah Silverman?
I've never appreciated anything Sandra Bernhard has done, although seeing her drop into a vat of molten gold in Hudson Hawk came pretty darn close.

19) Your favorite, or most despised, movie cliché
I despise the cookie cutter that previews for the last two decades or so have all been put through. There used to be a creativity at work in previews (especially teaser trailers) that has long been pushed to the side in favor of the same tired formula for each genre (this may require its own post someday).

20) Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom-- yes or no?
Absolutely yes. It was the first real movie I ever watched and I will always hold it in high regard partly because of that. It's possible that I've seen it more than any other movie, and I will continue watching it around once a year until it becomes unpractical.

21) Favorite Nicholas Ray movie
They Live By Night

22) Inaugural entry into the Academy of the Underrated
The Blob (1988)

23) Your favorite movie dealing with the subject of television
Robocop

24) Bruno Ganz or Patrick Bauchau?
N/A

25) Your favorite documentary, or non-fiction, film
American Movie, each laugh it elicits is multiplied at least 3x when you realize it's 100% true.

26) According to Orson Welles, the director’s job is to “preside over accidents.” Name a favorite moment from a movie that seems like an accident, or a unintended, privileged moment. How did it enhance or distract from the total experience of the movie?
In the VHS version of Pee Wee's Big Adventure there is a strange gaffe that we see as the result of it being filmed in open matte. During PeeWee's drive down the careening road, we see crazy signs whizzing past him on the dark road and in the matted widescreen version that was seen in theaters this was all fine and dandy. But for VHS, it was open matte so we see that the signs are actually on rails being pushed past the camera. This was unintended, but on some level it actually works with the camp level in the film and the celebration of Hollywood cliches at the climax.

27) Favorite Wim Wenders movie
The End of Violence

28) Elizabeth Pena or Penelope Cruz?
N/A

29) Your favorite movie tag line (Thanks, Jim!)
'Nine men who came too late and stayed too long...' -- The Wild Bunch

30) As a reader, filmgoer, or film critic, what do you want from a film critic, or from film criticism? And where do you see film criticism in general headed?
Film criticism: To treat each film like they should treat their readers, with some respect.

Analog Nation

Watching Zodiac, it's hard not to feel wistful about that age when information was a highly regarded commodity -- it was not at our fingertips, but usually at the library or in an encyclopedia. Much attention has been paid to David Fincher's brilliant portrayal of the limits of pre-Internet crime work (Matt Zoller Seitz and Jim Emerson have great posts about this topic) and how it may have helped one of the most notorious killers slip through the cracks, but the scenes that really fascinated me were those which portrayed the San Francisco Chronicle offices of the 1970s. Although I loved the movie, the selfish newspaper man in me wanted Fincher to show more of the wonder of following such a glamorous case in the primitive print age before computers.

Thankfully Fincher lets us spend a great deal of time in the Chronicle newsroom, which except for computers replacing typewriters is probably exactly how the Chronicle looks today (newsrooms are like grocery stores -- they're all different, but the same -- every daily newsroom has mostly wall-less workspaces with tons of flourescent lighting). One detail I loved really showed how Fincher did his homework: did you spy the pneumatic tubes in the background of the newsroom? I can't imagine how cool that would be to use those in a frantic environment like that, and I was praying that Fincher would give us a shot of Greysmith or Avery getting some urgent message through the pneumatic tube.

But back to what Fincher didn't show, and what I've been imagining ever since I saw Zodiac. The methods newspapers used to put their product together back then is as dead as the dinosaurs -- even the small weekly in Santa Claus, Indiana has upgraded to today's modern plating and printing technology. Before the digital age of newspaper production, things were harder, but also more romantic and artistic -- and if you want a good idea of how it was done, watch the opening credits sequence in the 1974 Billy Wilder classic The Front Page. That movie took place in the 1920s, but the methods and technology that the Chronicle used in the 1970s virtually the same.

(I realize I'm getting away from anything relating to film, but stay with me, I'm building to something ... I think)

My favorite newspaper line of any movie is in Superman: The Movie when Perry White says to Jimmy Olsen, 'take this to composition!' Back when Superman was made, there was actually something called the composition department, but now if you walk into a newspaper and ask for this area, you will only get blank stares. The composition department represented what today is handled with a single mouse, and in the early 20th century it utilized the linotype -- which some call one of the most complicated machines ever invented, and in the 70s had evolved to the more high-tech phototypesetting.

For a newspaper junkie like me, I immediately connected the technological brick walls the various police departments in Zodiac were smashing into, with the similar 'impairments' that Graysmith, Avery and co. had to hurdle at their day job inside the newspaper. Just as detectives today would go apeshit having to ferry from precinct to precinct in search of one file folder, today's reporters and copy editors would be lost inside the Chronicle newsroom of the 1970s. This is why I was quietly hoping for a quick scene in the primitive composition department for a shot of the next day's Zodiac headline before it went to print.

Zodiac takes us back to a time when the value of information was peaking, and it was anyone's for the taking -- be it police or journalists. It's a police movie first, but I would have loved to see more of the newspaper side -- possibly the pressure of the Chronicle wanting Avery's stories to remain exclusive, without the other Bay Area dailies being tipped off or the Associated Press jumping in.

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Something along these lines had been stuck in my head even before I saw Zodiac -- do we take for granted the pleasures that the pre-Internet age offered? What about in regards to movie watching? It's hard to imagine life without IMDB.com, endless reviews and the film blog community. I would say that the Internet has enhanced my film tastes, because I've been turned on to so many movies that I wouldn't have ordinarily discovered. Also, you can't underestimate how much the Web has enhanced the buildup for movies, since we have knowledge of productions seemingly when they're just a concept on a wall. I've debated how a blog-a-thon on this subject could work, but I'm still narrowing down just what the exact topic would be. Stay tuned.