Loves Toy China Buys Great!

Ah, there's nothing quite like cheap, lead-based Chinese toys to make one feel proud about being American and having access to such an assortment of imported non-quality items. On a recent whim, I went to the VF Outlets in Draper. They're in a sad way these days; few stores with even fewer offerings, unless you're in the market for air soft guns or turquoise jewelry (although it's hit or miss when the woman sets up her rug in the mall hall to serve up the finest indian inspired stone trinkets). But amidst this decaying and fairly worthless structure is the Toy Liquidator.

Usually these contain all the KB Toys cast offs that didn't sell back in 1995 and certainly aren't going to sell now. This particular incarnation, however, contained all the Chinese junk toys a person (albeit a person with little money or little taste) could ever desire. Because these toys are cheap, in ever sense of the word.

In the quest to keep these beauties low cost, much has been sacrificed - most noticeably a bilingual marketing team. Which is why I couldn't resist this plethora of Chinese-to-English-Dictionary merchandising.



Who doesn't love a Handpick Playset? My only question is where/what a Ferity is? Is it near the Caribbean?




Whatever you do, dear god provide against the children!




Pretty sure this sends the right message to kids about law enforcement.




And my personal favorite. Both the description of this toy truck and the truck itself are priceless.

So children, in conclusion buy Chinese. It's a cheap laugh. And you might die from the paint.

Disturbed.

So if you misspell my blog address, by simply switching the p and s in blogspot, you get a rather disturbing website, the likes of which my little rants could never compete with. Take a look:

Onceamurderer.blogpsot.com

In other news, i will update this shortly. I know I never got to the rest of the movies I saw at Sundance, but they were by and large good films. Although Push, the winner of the Jury Prize in the Dramatic competition left me thoroughly ready to cut myself. It was excellent and SO depressing.

Anyway, I can't linger because I have more exciting things to discuss. Like my costume designs for Isabelle in the play Ring Around the Moon. Everyone knows I make costumes, for parties, murder mysteries, and for plain ol' fun. But now I get to design for an actual production. More on this to come, but to suffice it to say, I'm excited by how it's turning out. So far.

Not Alone

Apparently there's other geeks out there. Driving mini-vans.

Fashionably Forward

Lest I keep putting it off, I am now going to present, for your viewing pleasure, a summary and brief review of one more Sundance film I saw. This is because I have other topics I wish to blog on, but can't allow myself to until I deliver the promised goods of my festival experience. Here is yet another, dear friends.

The September Issue



The premiere kick off of the festival and possibly one of my favorites of the few I saw. It's a documentary that focuses on the creation of the prestigious September issue of Vogue magazine, highlighting the workings (and business relationship) of editor-in-chief, Anna WIntour, and creative director Grace Coddington. For those not in the know, Anna Wintour is considered one of the most powerful and influential women in fashion. She is also nicknamed the Ice Queen, and known for being a a cold and stand-offish bitch. Meryl Streep's character in The Devil Wears Prada is reportedly based off of Wintour.

The film didn't disappoint. She is a fascinating personality, completely capable of sending even the most powerful and self-assured designers into quivering fits of terror. The exchange with Yves St. Laurent was particularly memorable as he attempted to convince her that his fall line of blacks is actually very colorful when it becomes apparent she isn't interested in dark or brooding looks for upcoming issue. Watching her boredom in meetings with extremely influential people, or her ability to take away and turn conversations into exactly what she wants them to be was truly riveting. And yes, she certainly had her moments in which she coldly admonished subordinates and peers alike. The staff at Vogue are walk on egg shells, constantly in fear of her decisions.

Its not entirely without reason, either. While she can be frightening, Wintour also weilds ungodly power. In one excellent segment she takes a no-name beginning designer who won a small local contest and, simply by recommending him to a few choice individuals, elevates him to star status. In a matter of weeks after their meeting, his picture is plastered across NYC, he is the toast of parties and his designs are in huge demand. Such is the power of Anna Wintour, and why despite her occasional cold streak people are desperate to appease her.

To be frank, the woman eats, sleeps and breathes her magazine and uses it to mold the entire fashion world. The film is filled with gems that have you squirming, such as when a photographer ignores her requests on a photo shoot and the aftermath as Wintour discovers it. But the real enjoyment comes from watching the interaction between Grace Coddington and Ms. Wintour. Both came to Vogue at the same time, but often clash in their ideas. Anna is the editor, the slasher, and the eye that makes the final product work. Grace, on the other hand, is a creative type who whips up incredible images and infuses beauty and art into every piece she does.



Her 1920's flapper shoot is particularly impressive.





Grace is the one person who has little fear of Anna, and even enjoys goading her on at times. There isn't a whole lot of love lost between the two, but the need for each other is clear. At one point, after seeing all of their difficulties with the other's opinions and work methods, it is nice to see both acknowledge how talented the other is at their respective job. All in all, the film is a fun and unique look into the fashion world, and even more into the figures who shape it.

See it. And feel bad about your wardrobe.

Great Depression

We just finished watching Push (not the Dakota Fanning trash coming
out). And its safe to say that we're all under a haze after seeing it.

The movie was powerful and incredibly, incredibly, depressing. This
was our follow up to the documentary film about Afghan Star, a Middle
Eastern equivelant to American Idol. Only you can get shot by the
Taliban for participating in their version.

All in all it was a worthwhile evening, if a total downer too. More
on this when I'm feeling a little less somber.

Afghan Pop and Incest

Currently waiting for the Best of Fest at sundance, winners of the doc
and dramatic categories.

Ever feel like beating random strangers? This one's for you.

Violence! Senseless Violence! So Will and I saw an entry in the dramatic competition entitled Bronson. The blurb in the Sundance guide made it sound interesting: a criminal who believes himself an artist, learns to make violence his craft and perfect it into an art.



In theory, it sounds really disturbing and strange. I could think of a million interesting things to do with this synopsis were I making the film. True to the nature of the Sundance guidebook, the movie you see is rarely the same thing they explained to you. That can go either way of course, some of the worst sounding films turned out indeed to be the best. And I'm sad to report that this movie just didn't make the grade.

The story focuses on Charlie Bronson (not the actor, although that is where he pulled his pseudonym from), a british man with few if any morals who spends his time beating people up in prison. And loves it. The narrative unfolds partially through seeing the action, but also through a series of "stage performances" in which the actor tells his story to group of tux clad theater-goers. These departures are enlivened with Bronson's unique whiteface or playing multiple characters ala-Harvey-Dent-style make up. It is an interesting effect, and I was willing, even excited to go with it . Oh, and it's based on Britain's most violent/notorious incarcerated inmate, the real Charlie Bronson. What could make a more interesting film?



Here are my problems. First, and perhaps a minor detail: A story concerning one of the most violent men in the UK prison system, particularly a story about a man who defines himself by violence should be... violent. Honestly. I wanted this movie to make me uncomfortable, have to look away, make me shudder at the horror. Perhaps I expected a little more Clockwork Orange or some American History X curbing, but the violence was fairly generic, bloodless punching and beating that looked all a little too staged.

Look, I'm not into gratuitous violence. I'm not wild about seeing graphic violence. But I think violence serves a purpose and can prove a point; it is one of many tools a screenwriter can use to convey the message. The ritualistic attacks in this film however, struck me as unremarkable, which is unfortunate. How can you showcase this character's personality if you don't offer what he is capable of. In many ways he is a monster. But we are denied that monster in most respects, and by the end when he kidnaps and holds hostage a character that we might feel sympathetic for, I found myself actually hoping Bronson would viciously hurt the victim, if only so I could then feel justified in being shocked by him. And I was disappointed.

This leads into my second and more vital argument. The character never went anywhere. And this, for any story, but especially where the narrative completely revolves around a character, spells certain doom. At first Bronson seems interesting, mysterious and you're trying to figure out why he does what he does. The film doesn't give us this psychology and worse yet, allows Bronson to remain static throughout the film. He is the same person at the end as the beginning growing neither better nor worse in response to his situations.

That makes for boring cinema. The last third of the movie I simply stared at the screen, Wagner blaring over images of him taking on the the guards for the umpteenth time, and couldn't help but be disinterested. More of the same. It's just more of the same. It felt like the secondary characters were more developed than the film's namesake. Characters need story arcs. Even if the individual fails, or you want to present a character who embodies senseless violence for no particular reason. There still needs to be something for the audience to work with. Watching the first five minutes of this film is about all you need. You've then seen the end too - all the information about Charlie Bronson you're going to get.

Bronson make me want to commit acts of violence. On the filmmaker. Okay, it wasn't Midnight Meat Train awful, but it fell flat and that such a dull film was made about such an potentially interesting subject is disappointing.