Green Lantern

That I was comfortable enough to leave for the restroom during an important piece of exposition tells you how riveting Green Lantern is.

My biggest problem was the music. When Hal Jordan is first trying to get the lantern to work, I want to giggle. I'm supposed to giggle. It's Ryan Reynolds doing what we love. But I can't because the music is off.

The scene is juxtaposing Dr. Hammond's autopsy (and infection) with Hal's attempt to power the ring. The music is great for the autopsy. I guess it works at the end of the scene, when Hal learns the oath and the lantern makes his eyes all funny. But by that point, I’m irked I didn’t get my giggle.

Was it really necessary to introduce us to Hal via a one-night stand? Would it have been that much less interesting if he was late for lateness' sake?

Blake Lively is stunning as a brunette.

Peter Sarsgaard can do no wrong. He owned that make-up, owned that role.

That close up on the face as Hal is getting his Green Lantern skin? That wasn't Ryan Reynolds. Or if it was, they did a REALLY good job of making him look like a completely different person, nose and all.

Tomar-Re does not look like a fish. He looks like a bird. Hello? He has a beak!

I enjoyed Kilowag the drill sergeant. He could care less that Hal is human.

Sinestro…his 'humans are weak and you don't deserve to be here' schtick was tiresome. You got a problem with the choice? Holler at the ring, not the recipient. Please.

Sad that Dr. Hammond is so consumed he doesn't hear Hal trying to counteract his dad's poison.

Love that Carol quickly figures out it's Hal.

Why was it important for Dr. Hammond to hear what other people thought of him? It wasn't bad, it just didn't add up in the end. If he could hear people's thoughts, then why did he fall for the ring ruse?

Okay, I see that showing us how Dr. Hammond can read memories set an important precedence. But don't choose a memory that leaves me hanging. Poor Angela! But was her husband's death related to how she came to be a scientist? Enquiring minds want to know.

I've seen enough of the Green Lantern animated series to giggle when we hear Carol's call name is Sapphire. But not enough to fully understand the ramifications. As usual, I'm backlogged on my cartoons.

I like the way the Guardians are rendered in the cartoon. In the movie, their giant brains make them look scarier, not smarter. And how can anyone see them nodding? Their chairs are so tall.

I’m as self centered as the next person, but I did not enjoy the we are awesome only a human can stop this threat message of Hal Jordan fighting alone. Yes, Carol fired the missiles to get him going, but

Maybe in the sequel he'll get to fight alongside Kilowag and Tomar-Re.

(Let's call this The Avengers Effect, shall we?)

So Sinestro's so power hungry he puts on the yellow ring, does he? And I was just getting to like him.

Here's hoping Green Lantern 2 is superior to this.

Saturday

Another day in the life.

My 11:30 cancelled, so instead of searching for parking at Peet's, I was able to read both newspapers and watch all of Young Justice and half of Green Lantern.

Which made me slightly late to the memorial service.

Alex was ~2 ½ months my senior. We answered the call to discipleship* the same Sunday. When he, declaring his desire to follow Christ and be baptized, stood, it gave me the courage to respond to the stirrings in my heart. I followed.

Now he has preceded me in death. It's not simply the shock of him being my age; this is someone I knew. An acquaintance, but I knew his name. I'd experienced his smile.

Since I was running late, I drove wearing the 2 ½ inch cork wedges that complemented my sundress. It was a good thing I put driving shoes in the car for the trip home, because by that time, blisters had formed.

Beauty Battle Score: Cute Shoes 1, Edem 0.

A bowl of cereal, a glass of water, bandages, a change into skinny jeans, a change of purse – and off to San Francisco for the screening of the film I worked on, Tell.

There was no traffic. Six o'clock on a Saturday night, and there no traffic on the approach, the metering lights weren't on. . .it was nice. I freaked out a little.

The film screened at The Castro – a hip neighborhood devoid of parking.

I felt a muscle strain as I drove uphill (I drive a stick shift) and ouch, it felt tender when I finally parked the car. Still, I changed into my other cute shoes (4 ½ inch wedges) and walked to the theater.

Downhill, of course.

Beauty Battle Score: Cute Shoes 2, Edem 0.

It was incredible to see Tell. The opening sequence was amazing (a breathless 45? seconds that took a day to shoot). The entire film flowed so nicely. I do wish I could've gotten a better shirt for one of the characters (I worked on costume, among other things). Nonetheless, I'm proud to have been a part of it.

Better than the movie was seeing the cast and crew I worked with, and other members of the Scary Cow collective I knew. I miss them. I smile thinking about them.

The casting director for Tell made her own film. Molly demonstrated the oh my awesome salesmanship of a persistent little girl. I could not stop smiling while the story unfolded. It's a rated G movie you don't have to bring your kids to. Dear Hollywood, please make some films like this. Or are you so busy with tent poles I should ask Netflix & Yahoo instead? (This film would do very well internationally, I think.)

Business Affairs: Pete & Veronica was another film I enjoyed. Simple, sweet, romantic – right up my alley. And no kissing! It's not that I'm against kissing, but the thing deserves a light touch more often than not. More like Captain America and not like Thor (Zoom out! What you do you think this is, NBC coverage of an Olympic medal ceremony?) I'm like the boy in the theatre who said "Eww! They're Kissing!" when I saw Attack of the Clones.

A day of happy, a day of grief. My Saturday.

* It is the part of the service after the sermon, where the deacons come to the front with chairs and the preacher invites anyone who will to come 1) accept Christ, 2) become of candidate for baptism, 3) re-dedicate their life to Christ. (There might be more, but that's the three I remember).

Road Trip!

Musings from my recent road trip:

Man, it takes a long time to get to Patterson!

The rest stops along Highway 99 seem nicer than along 5. No hooks on the door for the purse. Holes on the door latch for the stalls. Ugh.

I purposely left my house late and I still got to my destination early. <sigh>.

I was going to take the 101 instead of the 405, but the latter was a straight shot. It was too late to change when I saw construction.

There are signs that say, 'if you see dust while we're working, call…' What? You're digging in dirt. Why wouldn't there be dust? I mean, shouldn't there be dust?

The CHP motorcycle cop standing on the side of the road points to a car to tell it to pull over. He's not playing witchoo. Don't make him get on his bike.

Have you seen truckers drive on the highway? They are always cutting each other off. Nobody trips, either. No brake lights or anything. Crazy.

"HipHop Trucking" And you don't stop.

The Sofitel Hotel is posh. Not because it's across from the Beverly Center, or because the staff greets you in French. The food is an indicator – risotto instead of rice, crème brule so small one had to resist the urge suck it down like an oyster on the half shell. But the proof is the bathroom. Sufficiently dark to render makeup touch-ups a lost cause. Automatic flush toilets, automatic soap dispensers (foaming, bien sur) and automatic faucets. And a basket of towels, neatly rolled and stacked. Not useless finger towels; swatches of terry cloth large enough to dry both hands. Posh.

I got lost, of course. Beverly Drive is not Beverly Blvd. The Beverlywood neighborhood is quite lovely, though roundabout instructions are inane. "Through traffic keep right". Two feet later, at the stop sign, "Right lane must turn right." What?

I was late, according to my calculations, and I hate being late. Turns out I wasn't late for the first keynote speaker. I did, however, miss the yummy breakfast pastries. A berry medley had to do.

Wait, what? El Torito still exists? And there's one on Wilshire and Rodeo?

Musings on a Faith-Based Summit

I had the opportunity to attend Variety's Family Entertainment and Faith-Based Summit. Some musings:

Good. Someone's recognized that "faith-based" does not have to exclusively mean the Christian faith. Too bad that whenever someone says faith-based or faith-friendly, they're only talking about Christianity. Because saying Christ-based is too scary.

Faith based = the characters talk about God; the movie as obvious ministry

Faith friendly = the characters are actively living their faith. God is referenced to help the audience understand why the characters make certain decisions.

As I suspected you should think of your script as a business. Include the log line, etc. when submitting it. Dream of the ancillary products. Go Jurassic Park with it. Let your imagination spare no expense.

Unless you're Mark Burnett. Who came in cussing and talking faith. A Cussing Christian. Ha!

And then he went all Old Testament on us. Jeremiah and Zedekiah. Stuff only bible scholars know off the top of their heads.

Wait – Mark Burnett's married to Roma Downey?

Is that what they call a rough cut? Because that clip of The Bible, coming to History Channel in 2013, is sizzling. I still prefer Jesus with a Jew 'fro, but hey – if it makes it more accessible to viewers, go 'head, Mark, go 'head. The numbers should be at least as good as Hatfields & McCoys, when all is said and done.

Wait, Little Angels is a Roma Downey production?

Huh. Well, don't start treating the Latino faith based market as you do the African American one. Follow the example of the Christian music section in the Christian bookstore. Everything's in alphabetical order by artist. No more separation into subgenres.

I heart Kim Dorr-Tilley.

Ooo, there's a new concept. Faith-something entertainment that's not for families. Something adults can watch without kids in tow.

I heart Michael Flaherty. His interview with Peter Debruge reminded me why I want to work for Walden when I grow up. Bringing kids to literacy through movies and publishing? Boo-yea!

(Yep. I probably should've been an English major and gone to work as a school librarian.)

When Peter Debruge said "explicitly" he thought naughty thoughts and got embarrassed. The rest of us…not so much.

When someone asks a question without the benefit of a microphone, you repeat the question so the rest of us can hear. Thank you for being a model moderator, Mr. Debruge.

D'oh! Didn't get a chance to fawn at Michael Flaherty.

D'oh! Didn't get a chance to fawn at Brian Lowry.

Eyes glazed over during Digital Media panel. Went to the bathroom and later got to talk to Kim Dorr-Tilley. Yay!

I am horrible at networking.

We were given a tweet hashtag for the conference after the digital media panel. Which was after lunch. Too much too little too late.

D'oh! Didn't get a chance to ask Charlie Ebersol what the four demographics are.

Finally! Someone has pointed out that quality doesn't matter. Not with the crap that regularly comes out of Hollywood.

How do you finance a faith-based film? Any which way you can.

A Christian writer/producer said the movie Courageous didn't inspire him to be a better father. The inaudible gasp from the gallery made me giggle. No group is a monolith, mon ami.

I can see how those who've had their homes picketed might be hostile to Christians. And some are Jews who remember being mercilessly teased at school, bullied and called Jesus killers. That can't account for all of Hollywood's hostility to Christians, can it?

I don't think honest accurate portrayals of Christians will grace the big or small screen during my lifetime. Which is stupid, but not surprising. Hollywood has a tendency to leave money on the table for much longer than it should. (Remember, Fox became the 4^th network in large part due to Living Single, In Living Color, Martin, and New York Undercover. Not because of Duets. They took the money off the table.)

You know, if we were biblically truthful in our adaptations, they wouldn't be all puppy dogs and double rainbows. There are ugly things in The Book.

Ramblings

Dear Stella Artois,

A chalice made out of glass is still a glass.

Sincerely,

I do like this Burger King commercial with David Beckham.

Clarins multi-active wrinkle cream smells like nice old lady. Talc and je ne se quois.

I'm thinking the Kreo Battleship cartoon short was better than the movie.

Kudos to Chrysler's advertising team. Setting the tone with the Eminem Super Bowl commercial, they've been hitting it out of the park ever since.

I also like the song in the recent Heineken commercials.

Wow. Heineken is in spell check.

Dear SyFy Channel,

Of course a big-eyed Kewpie style Humpty Dumpty doll is possessed. You may need a better example to sell your new ghost show.

Sincerely,

Okay, so I like all of the songs in this AT&T commercial, except the last one. I see the sign for Brooklyn and I immediately think Beastie Boys. Does anyone know the song they chose instead?

George Zimmerman was also wearing a hoodie that fateful night.

Wait, what? Merle Haggard wrote a song about Joseph from the Bible?

Mike's Hard Lemonade is Zima with a bumblebee label. Blach.

Was Sperry Topsider always so posh?

Yoplait Greek Cherry & Pomegranate yogurt? Unfortunately, no. But the blueberry is good. And if you get the 4 pack, the empty tins look to make good paint pots.

Iran's been trying to make nuclear weapons since forever; they ain't gonna stop. And they know if they use them, they'll get clobbered. This is the starting point. What are our goals, again? What are we trying to achieve, diplomatically?

I love that there's a successful golfer named Bubba.

Oakland's Trestle Glen neighborhood sports million dollar homes. Still, pizza places won't deliver to the residents. Whaddup?

Wait, what? Esprit is still around?