What a rancid, runtish, queasy, gormless, stillborn hash of a year that was.
Time to do practically everything differently.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Top 5 reasons High Fidelity is the best. Ever.
John Cusack. Rob. Talks to the camera with the most candour and insight of any first person narrative comedy ever. Beating Woody Allen at his own game. I think its something to do with the dramatic irony of his voiceover self having so much more insight than his in-character self. Whatever. Rob is warm and funny and frustrating and stubborn and vulnerable and just plain brilliant.
Soundtrack and pop-culture references. The love of music oozes out of every frame.
Quotability. I have a theory – not fully formed – that the immediacy/success of comedies is directly proportional to the durability of its most salient quotes. “I’ve been thinking with my guts since I was fourteen years old, and I’ve come to the conclusion that my guts have shit for brains”, “Get your petioli stink outta my store”, “Kathleen Turner Overdrive” and “WHAT. FUCKING. IAN GUY?!?” are genius.
Jack Black as Barry. The man has always been parody of himself, but every performance for him since this once is a pale mimicry of the nerdy verve he brings to the store-clerk-come-crooner.
It is honest. Love is hard. It is shit. It is a grind. It sure as shit isn’t glamorous. We do dumb stuff in pursuit of it or flight from it all the time. But it is the thing that is at the end of what we strive for in every other way, every day. High Fidelity is a celebration of that whole maddening mess.
Soundtrack and pop-culture references. The love of music oozes out of every frame.
Quotability. I have a theory – not fully formed – that the immediacy/success of comedies is directly proportional to the durability of its most salient quotes. “I’ve been thinking with my guts since I was fourteen years old, and I’ve come to the conclusion that my guts have shit for brains”, “Get your petioli stink outta my store”, “Kathleen Turner Overdrive” and “WHAT. FUCKING. IAN GUY?!?” are genius.
Jack Black as Barry. The man has always been parody of himself, but every performance for him since this once is a pale mimicry of the nerdy verve he brings to the store-clerk-come-crooner.
It is honest. Love is hard. It is shit. It is a grind. It sure as shit isn’t glamorous. We do dumb stuff in pursuit of it or flight from it all the time. But it is the thing that is at the end of what we strive for in every other way, every day. High Fidelity is a celebration of that whole maddening mess.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
