Edgy MD

Big gunzz on that teenager.

I think there might have been one cell phone in the entire movie --- held, but not used. But that might have been, like, a staff radio that Maya Rudolph's character was using at the park. There were no laptops, and no cups of Starbucks. And Steve Carell's character drove a mint-condition Carter-era Buick family station wagon. It was the first time out for these writer-directors, but they seem to share Wes Anderson's sense of anachronistic shamelessness, coming up with a universe where the world of their youth has never ended.

"Were he promoted" he says. "Were he promoted"! There's no conditional! Son of Dil, YOU are a Binghamton Met!

I would also compare it to Adventureland, as the narrative turned when the kid entered into the employ of an indifferently operated potential deathtrap of an amusement park. There was also a very evocative sense of the bittersweet amber-preserved timelessness of some beachfront communities. In the beginning, the kid is shown putting earbuds in his ears to listen to music, and later, somebody counts down past years at the beach to suggest that the setting is contemporary, but in most ways it could have been 1985 --- the music, the swimsuit styles, the businesses... . The kid goes to a pizza place and finds a guy playing a coin-op video game, for Pete's sake, and it turns out to be Pac-Man. My main complaint was that the exposition was overdrawn. The dickiness of the boyfriend was so over-the-top hateful, while we seemingly were expected to accept that he was delivering his shit stealthily and was able to fool everybody and himself that he wasn't such a bad guy. And the mean-girls nastiness at the beach, as they all vie for pecking order in the flock at the top of the summer, was real enough in theme, but just un-necessarily heavy handed. Teenage girls are like that, sure, but generally at least try and dance back and forth in pretending they are not. I liked it once the exposition melted away, though. Good turn by Sam Rockwell in a part that's got 31% more depth than the over-broad peripheral characters he usually gets.

B I N G O N I M M O

Reading about the minor leagues, it seems that, beyond Leathersich, Chipotle is growing into quite the thing among the grinders in the bushes --- perhaps with prime locations in the strip malls of America's small-to-mid-sized cities, price points perfectly aligned to get the most calories-per-dollar out of a minor league per diem, and a chance to gleefully murder a fartfest of a meal at the same time.

Finally saw this 17 months after the last post about it. What really hit me between the eyes, besides the animated illustrating, was the US record executive talking exuberantly about Rodriguez being in top five acts he's ever been associated with, and then moments later getting viciously defensive when asked where the guy's royalty money all went, like he was caught in a 60 Minutes interview trap.

Yeah, but I kind of stop looking at peripherals after seeing those 16.54 strikeouts per nine. Drrrooolll!! And speaking of drool, look at that Chipotle ChinTM. Take it easy, Rocket. Those burritos aren't going anywhere.

That's a very merry month. Got to think he's a serious September candidate.

Well, by all means, take the day off from work and watch The Court Jester. I remember seeing footage of Kaye entertaining destitute European children during the post-war relief period, doing the mock-European accents that he (and Sid Ceaser) did so well. I don't know how well such humor would go over today, but you must pretty damn funny to make kids crack up by talking a jibberish version of their own language to demonstrate what it sounds like to you. Pretty funny how many of his performances were of the dual role/milquetoast-bully variety.

Interesting that he blew his marriage up not over some gimlet-eyed climbing starlet, but over somebody funny.

Was Sylvia Fine related to Larry?

This is available for instantaneous and subcutaneous downloading on Netflickles.

I've been following this guy and not reporting back because I was afraid he'll interfere with my love of Rainy Lara. And the last time I chose a guy because I enjoyed his last name, I ended up with Jordany Valdespin. Guys with funny names can be dicks too. Anyhow, Ynoa and Lara are probably good buds, because they've ended up on a parallel ascent, often on the same roster. Gabes has consistently been awesome while staying under the radar. He threw up a 1.99 ERA over 72 innings as a 17-year-old in the Dominican Summer League, bringing him stateside at 18, where it went for a 3.21 ERA over 64 innings between the Gulf Coasters and Kingsport. But what should really hone your eyes is the control. In the Dominican, he struck out 35 and walked 8. Stateside, he fanned 27 and walked four. That ain't great strikeout numbers but FOUR walks in 64 innings as an 18-year-old is some fine cookin'! As part of the awesome Brooklyn rotation of 2012, the 19-year-old goes 5-2 with a 2.23 ERA over 76 2/3 innings. His walk rate ticks up to 1.2 per nine, but his strikeouts also reach a respectable 7.5. He's growing into his body, sez I. Last year, it all comes together in Savannah. He goes 15 (I say, 15) and 4, eating up a healthy 135 2/3 innings and posting a 2.72 ERA. This is the beast you must fear. He strikes out 7.0 per nine and walks 1.1. This year, maybe not as easy, making the ol' jump to St. Lucie at a still-young 21, but last night he goes seven shutout innings, whiffs 11, walks none, allowing only four hits. He's 6-2, and his ERA sits at 3.45. Surely you want some of this on your team. Surely. Else, perhaps you want to trade some of this for a hard-hitting outfielder or hard-hitting shortstop or hard-hitting... something. But I've invited him in and hung a sign saying "asset" over his door. Kinda light for a Dominican. Looks a little Nelson Figueroa-ish to me.

In a film billed as based on (but really should be credited as "inspired by") the James Thurber story of the same name, director Ben Stiller stars as a mild-mannered pushover of a LIFE magazine photo editor, led to venture outside of his comfort zone when a negative slated for the cover of the magazine's last issue goes missing. A chronic daydreamer, living adventures in his head that contrast starkly with his staid life, Walter sets out to find the hotshot globetrotting photojournalist (Sean Penn) who sent him the negative. Action and adventure ensue. blahblahblah love interest blahblahblah. [fimg=300]http://www.waltermitty.com/img/posters/poster-6.jpg[/fimg]

I was scarcely above "eh" too. Very episodic, without much of a narrative arc at all. A modestly good scene here, or maybe even there, and then nothing building off of it. Gave me the feeling of a movie where the principles were just flying in for a day or two and flying out. And the editor was left to compose it into something. Most effective --- and that's not saying a lot --- as a vehicle for George Clooney to continue positioning himself as our onscreen national conscience. Even stuck his dad in there, because of course he did.

As World War II is winding down, an allied group, led by a lieutenant/art expert played by George Clooney, is tasked with finding and saving pieces of art and other culturally important items before their destruction by Hitler during World War II, or annexation by Russian forces coming from the East. As neither civilian nor military leadership shares his notion very deeply that victory is hollow without preserving our cultural artifacts, no soldiers of typical military age are committed to his team, so he enlists mostly aging and gimpy professors, curators, and dilettantes who previously were considered unfit for the war effort. John Goodman, Bob Balaban, and Bill Murray are here, but so is Matt Damon, so it ain't all a ragtag team, but it's a pretty ragtag team, even with Private Ryan aboard. Cate Blanchette appears too. Can't just have a bunch of men in a movie, war movie or no. Checking it out on Wikipedia now, I see that Clooney directed, too. No wonder he gets all the good speeches.

In the posted reactions, if not necessarily the voting, there was a lot of folks down on Wall-E here.

Dilson and Brandon Nimmo at the top of the lineup has been a potent cocktail of tablesetting for the first place St. Lucie Mets.

Rainy is in Bingo, and a solid part of a solid rotation (Tyler Pill excepted), going 3-1 in six starts and 33 2/3 innings so far. He uploaded his strikeout software last start, fanning seven in 6 2/3 innings versus the Harrisburg Senators. Rainy is on track.

My friend is a Pirates fan, the sort who goes to spring training every year. One year he meets one of these two Indian prospects in a sports bar, and they hit it off. Tim returns home and is surprised to find the guy turning to him as a confidante, corresponding with him as a smart fan who hopefully will give him a more nuanced view of the culture of the game than he's getting from his teammates and coaches, who all seem nice, but don't seem to be telling him the whole story. is honored. He tries to tell the guy what to expect. He finds it funny to hear his new friend straight-facedly using cliches he picked up from his teammates, like "I'm living the dream." "Is this really your 'dream'?" my buddy asks. "You just stumbled into a sport you never played before." But obviously, making big on any opportunity can be a dream to a guy from India. Then as time goes on, and injuries mount, my friend starts to realize that the team would likely have released his friend by now, but were probably hanging on until the film came out. Then he starts feeling guilty, as he starts to realize he's just another one in the circle of people not telling the prospect the whole truth. Anyhow, Tom McCarthy hasn't missed yet as a filmmaker or writer, but he's just the writer on this, and since it's seemingly more of a work-for-hire than his own baby, I suspect his winning streak isn't going to survive. Besides, the protagonist here is a sleazy sports agent. And with Jerry McGuire, the world may only have room for one film in which a sleazy sports agent finds redemption.

Mentioned in the main forum, but he hit in his tenth straight game last night and then was pulled with a leg injury. He's a first round pick. SOMEBODY believed that he'd turn that corner.

Mean girls, mean girls Whatcha gonna do? Whatcha gonna do when they "Burn Book" you?

It's a little more slapstick at times than most of them. As I said, it has more in common with Rushmore than most others, but it obviously stands apart from the lot, with the expansive cast, and set in a time that isn't really analogous to or representative of Anderson's childhood. Although latter day depictions of the hotel show it in a state of neglect decades after a sixties/seventies renovation, so his favorite design period does get in there. It's confusing to start, because it's told within a triple-frame-story narration, but that turns out to be a cool thing, as do the fun exterior models and exterior sets that come right out of mid-20th century filmmaking. There's a sequence that takes place on gondolas suspended over the Alps, and it could have easily been done on an old set left over from Night Train to Munich. I must note that, for the second straight Anderson film, a pet is cavalierly killed to advance a little dark comedy. What's up with that? Sometimes, I think, he can get so self-conscious in his stylizing, that an Anderson film can become an Anderson-y film, as if he's coming up with ideas and going, "That's so ME!" I think that's part of what may or may not go wrong in Royal Tannebaums, and there's a little of that here, I think. But you'll probably find that Fiennes, new to the Anderson company, works here as a good, flawed Anderson protagonist. Depending on the perspective, one may think of the "Lobby Boy" character as the protagonist, but Fiennes' character is certainly the central one.

A grand hotel on hard times recalls it's glory years, stewarded by a charismatic but despotic fancy-pants concierge in a fictional Alpine country roughly fixed in central Europe, somewhere in the Austro-Hungarian Empire surely, in a time roughly analogous to between the wars. Large ensemble cast features Ralph Fiennes as the scheming concierge, demanding the highest standards of deportment and sophistication that he's all too willing to model for the hotel's staff, but comically descending into crass and vulgar tirades when things don't go his way. He takes a new lobby boy on as his protege, and they develop the sort of movingly-loyal-but-dysfunctional relationship Max Fischer had with his underclassman protege in Rushmore, and the boy stands by him as he gets knocked from his perch, along with the hotel and the country, as war (could be WWI or WWII or neither) approaches. [fimg=500]http://apnatimepass.com/the-grand-budapest-hotel-movie-poster-1.jpg[/fimg]