It's been a long time so briefly at the top here I'll give you a free film review. High Plains Drifter, Clint Eastwood's second movie as a director, is a mid-seventies western starring Clint as the "Stranger," a character that is so obviously copied from his Sergio Leone roles that it's actually jarring not to see his mexican poncho. All the other trademarks are there: black flat-brimmed hat, skinny cigar, general mute stoicism. Aside from the simple joy of watching Clint do this familiar dance, I was quite disappointed in this film. It seemed to go out of its way to incorporate all the lame conventions of the western without adding anything. In fact, I didn't even finish it cause I realized an hour into it that it wasn't really necessary. This might have been fun for people who like westerns back in 1973, but I can't really recommend watching it for any kind of value. In 2030, would someone who generally enjoys romantic comedies ever go back and watch You've Got Mail for any good reason?

I've got a more formed opinion now of There Will Be Blood, of which I watched the first 90 minutes of again the other day. There are three things about it that are utterly extraordinary: Daniel Day-Lewis, the music, and the beautiful camera movements within virtually every scene that isn't simply static. DDay pretty much speaks for himself and unless you've been subjected to cold-war era psych treatments, his power emanates right from the first time you see him. To speak more (or really at all) on his performance is superfluous.
The music too was intensely enchanting even throughout my first viewing of the film, but I'd like to say that perhaps not enough has been made about how truly amazing it is because upon a second tour I found it often to outshine the verbal story it's woven into. I know the guy from Radiohead did it; let's hope he stays in the movie business cause he's a natural genius for it.
Finally, the camera action. This is something that I noticed initially but felt like maybe I didn't appreciate it as much as I should have, and so paid particular attention to the way Mr PT Anderson was technically delivering his images to us. I'd like to report that he did it phenomenally. through extensive movie-watching, I've come to realize that something I fundamentally love is an intelligent use of editing, or more specifically a conservative use of cuts combined with well-thought-out uses of pans and zooms between shots. Go watch some of the classics of Kurosawa for a visual course in what I'm talking about. Anderson seems to have done his homework in this regard, to the extent that several times throughout I found myself thinking about Kurosawa. He seems always to start on a general wide scene shot and drift forward or laterally across the scene so we can take everything in before finally settling on what will ultimately be important in the scene. Think of a shot where he surveys the land and the camps near the Little Boston well before finally bringing the derrick itself into the frame and zooming in, where Plainview is usually involved in the true action of the scene. Another specific example is when Eli is walking down to confront Plainview about where his church's money is. Instead of simply letting Eli walk into Plainview's frame, we follw from Eli's perspective as he walks along a pipeline and a vast lake of oil finally walking into where Plainview had been talking to some assistants. All the information that we see as Eli walks is important and stimulating. To top off this particular example, we get a beautifully framed shot with three men forming a perfect Kurosawsa-esque triangle, whose gap is of course filled by the entering Eli. This is the stuff that most people might not notice but most definitely adds to the overall experience of the film. If you are like me and do notice, then it moves everything to another level. My only nitpick is that none of this style seems very ambitious, innovative, or creative, so while it's certainly fine work, it falls quite short of being anything truly brilliant. Nonetheless, this is more argumentative and should not get in the way of your noticing the wonderful quality of this aspect of the film. So do enjoy.
(I'd like to finish off the last hour of the film again before passing a complete judgement (even though I'm quite sure the last hour will only serve to intensify my opinion), but the main problem I still have with There Will Be Blood is the character of Eli and/or perhaps also the actor Paul Dano. There is something quite seriously not right with this performance. I haven't yet determined who's at fault here: the writer for screwing up the dynamic of the character, Dano for screwing up the role, the casting director for hiring Dano in the first place, or Anderson the director for simply leading him to all the wrong decisions in playing the part. I suppose I can see how it might be desirable to have someone projecting extreme calm in the face of DDay's/Plainview's intensity, but in my opinion something is forced and awkward about Eli/Dano. It's uncomfortable, which I suppose would be preferrable if the film were an allegory, but of course I don't see that it is. It seems like someone made that decision somewhere along the line but then everyone just went too far with it. The entirely of this film is grandiose and intense and just simply large--all things that should be considered not only positive but essential to its quality; however, too much of the character of Eli is merely theatrical. (Again, I'll wait until I've watched it again, but this for me is exactly the underlying problem with the ending, that all of the sudden the foundation was absent from epic story, leaving only the bombastics.)

Some other things I've been thinking about:

1. What is a New Yorker? This is more a question for a first-year resident, but for whatever reason I've found myself considering it in the last couple weeks. My automatic reaction to this meditation is that I'm still not a "New Yorker." But is that true? I'm finishing up my fifth full year living in the city, and since I can't imagine moving out of my awesome apartment after just one year, I'm guaranteed to spend not just a sixth year here but also at least half of a seventh. That's quite a commitment to a place. I've got a somewhat tenured job here that has given me a rapibly growing 401k and a not-insignificant mutual fund. I've got an almost encyclopedic knowledge of the transportation system and the geography, both street- and ground-level. I've voted in local elections, choosing candidates ranging from our current mayor to the founder of the Rent Is Too Damn High Party. I've lived in three apartments in three somewhat different neighborhoods. I've seen businesses open and close and maybe I'm being presumptuous but I think at this point I can even accurately predict success or failure when a new one arrives. I've even adopted a local pro sports team (the Mets) and believe it or not, but when I find out someone like Charlie Villanueva is from the city, a curiously civic or pride-filled (perhaps also preposterous because there are 8million of us here) emotion causes me to root for him. So I guess what I'm trying to say--even though I can't stand some of the local accents, and I am still often amazed at the concentration of Irish and Jews here, and I can't bring myself to actually fold my pizza--is that maybe I've crossed the New Yorker threshhold.

2. Another line that I think I've crossed is a certain relationship line. I'm not experienced enough with this stuff to know exactly where I'm at or what's happened but I know that I was given a phone number by a rather attractive Asian girl this past weekend, and that this seemingly nondescript event made me think for two reasons. First, though I don't remember (I don't remember because it wasn't important enough to file the memories, not because I was too drunk to know what was going on) having any kind of flirty contact with this girl, apparently I was communicative enough for her to have the confidence to proffer a wholly unsolicited number. Basically, I've slipped into contented relationship mode so much that I don't even notice when an attractive chick is flirting with me, or even vice versa. The second, and personally deeper, issue is that when I realized what had happened, my reaction was not to be satisfied with myself or become arrogant or in any way emboldened, as would be the natural effect for most men. Instead, it occurred to me how happy I am where I am and how I've taken for granted the whole flirt/phone number/maybe-I'll-call-maybe-not/is-it-worth-it process of meeting people or escalating something or simply hooking up with a ho. I've taken for granted that I don't need to enter into this process and that I've already got the end result of such process, and I've got it as positively as I could imagine. So, while admittedly it can be a little exciting dipping into the lady pool, and there is a particular excitement that's possibly only at the very outset that of course I'm unable to truly recapture at this point, but it's much more pleasant to know that I don't really have to bother with all the crap that inevitably will follow. In fact, (though I'm even trying to overstate it) it would be hard to overstate the positive effect of this.

3. I don't know where it came from or how long it will last, but in the last two days I've strangely encountered a renewed desire to become a runner again. I don't know if--after immersing yourself in it as deeply as I did for several years--a person can really ever stop being a runner, but I do know that I haven't really felt like a "runner" for quite a while now. "A person who runs" is a better label. From time to time, I get serious pangs of determination relating to physical improvement. These can usually be sated through a few quality runs and a recommitment to regular gym visits. But this time it feels like a true and focused motivation for running. Though I don't know how disciplined it is, it's an excellent feeling and I'd like to see how long it will last. Rather, I'd like to see how long I can make it last. Proactivity.

4. I might make another longer post about this, but a man, acting without any consideration for other people, quite likely personally cost me at least $5,000 yesterday. That is a lot of money, enough to easily displace the displeasure I still have toward Chris Douglas-Roberts for failing to make uncontested 15foot shots and therefore costing me approximately $600. A couple missed free throws and spectacularly poorly timed act have likely conspired to make April 2008 the great month of missed financial opportunity.

5. On a lighter note, I've finally discoverd the joys of Fox Soccer Channel. I expect my Saturday and Sunday mornings/early afternoons will never be the same.