Tsk, tsk, tsk: The allure of the scolding pop culture editorial

That thing you enjoy? Well, you shouldn't. Shame on you!

I think I have discovered the truest gauge of success in  America today. You know that your movie, TV show, book, album, game, or podcast is a hit when someone is inspired to write a scolding, humorless pop culture editorial (or SHPCE for short) about it. You'll recognize it instantly when it happens, because the article will be called "The Problem With ______," "The Case Against ____," or "The Trouble With ____." Generally, the objections will be one or more of the following.

• The thing isn't as good as it used to be. This used to be a much more common complaint, but it has waned in recent years. Why? Well, it requires someone to actually wait a few years, rather than a few weeks, before writing a SHPCE. Where's the fun in that? If you want to get on your high horse and complain about something, you don't want to actually wait around and accumulate years worth of actual evidence, do you? Hell, no! By that time, hundreds of other TV shows, movies, books, and podcasts have already come along and stolen the national spotlight away. The choice, then, is clear. You have to write your SHPCE while the PC in question is still hot. If, by some chance, the PC object in question is still at peak popularity after several years, then you can write this kind of story if you really insist on it. It's an Internet classic, after all.

• The thing is just derivative of some other, better thing that came before. Now, this takes a little more research, but it can be quite satisfying if you have enough evidence to support your thesis statement. Of course, you can apply this to TV shows or movies or whatever you'd like, since everybody's always copying everyone else anyway, but it really works best for music. Pop music does a lot of the work for you, since much of it is really derivative and lazy. As evidenced by the the recent "Blurred Lines" lawsuit, pop musicians don't really even try that hard to keep their influences hidden. It's not difficult to take whatever's at the top of the charts currently and find something from ten, twenty, or even thirty years ago which sounds just like it. I mean, have you heard "Uptown Funk" a few dozen times yet?

• The thing has some logical loopholes or plot inconsistencies, rendering it worthless. I'm not sure why, but this seems to be the especial domain of Cracked.com and about half a million different hyperactive YouTubers. An army of Comic Book Guy wannabes (except slimmer and better groomed), Cracked's ever-snarky writers seem genuinely outraged when fantasy films with completely impossible plots somehow fail to conform to rigorous fact-checking and logical scrutiny. Time travel doesn't work that way, they tell us! Elves would never say something like that, they want us to know! Even if the central premise of a work is complete, made-up bullshit involving magic and super powers, the plot needs to be airtight. Or so the angry nerds of the Internet would have us believe.

• The thing may seem good now but will have problems in the future. Oh, this is just perfect for first-season TV shows. If a show is just starting to gain momentum, here's how to let the air out of the tires pronto. What are they going to do when so-and-so grows up, for instance? Huh? What then? And that running joke seems hilarious now, but will it seem hilarious after 40 or 50 episodes? Can the show possibly keep all its narrative plates spinning? Probably not. And it'll probably get cancelled before they've resolved everything anyway. You might as well just give up on this show now.

• (by far the most popular and definitely the one you should use) The thing is somehow sexist, racist, classist, ageist, homophobic, xenophobic, or in some other way prejudicial (often in a sly, non-obvious way) and will, therefore, cause any viewer, listener, or reader to become prejudiced as well. Ah, now we're cookin'. This right here is the heart of any good SHPCE in 2015. There is no horse higher than this one. Netflix's The Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt is deeply offensive to Native Americans. The podcast Serial promoted stereotypes about immigrants. And Mike Judge's Idiocracy? Well, buddy, if you've ever even watched that movie, you've more or less endorsed Hitler's final solution, because that's what that movie was really all about. I learned all of these things through deeply-impassioned, progressive-minded SHPCEs. Thank god, right? I mean, without the guidance of these enlightened editorial writers, I might have been swayed by the evils of popular culture and become a gay-bashing, woman-abusing Nazi plantation owner. It's a good thing I clicked on that BuzzFeed link, huh? That was a close one!

And there you have it. You may think of the pop culture you consume as mere entertainment. Your favorite TV show or game or whatever may just be a little day-brightener for you. But the authors of SHPCEs know better. It's racist and derivative and just all around evil. In short, you should not be enjoying that thing you enjoy. And, frankly, you should feel ashamed of yourself for ever having enjoyed it in the first place. There. Now don't you feel just terrible about yourself? Good. Mission accomplished. Once again, the Internet has saved the goddamned day.

Haven't posted this here yet, so I might as well...

A recent Mary Worth comic, as reconfigured by your humble blogger. The "POOF" is from Wizard of Id.

Dr. Jeff Porky.

This is another doctored Mary Worth comic, crudely reconfigured by me in tribute (?) to John Woo's Face/Off. It features sixtysomething widow Mary Worth, an advice-slinging gentlewoman of leisure, and her long-time, long-suffering boyfriend, Jefferson "Jeff" Cory, MD, a retired chief of staff from the local hospital.  Mary and Jeff are both residents of  Santa Royale, CA, a sleepy, pastel-colored burg where Mary lives in a plush condo community called Charterstone. (I think Jeff lives in Charterstone, too, but I'm not 100% sure on that. It doesn't matter, since everyplace in Mary Worth looks the same.) The reason I know any of this is because of Josh Fruhlinger's marvelous Comics Curmudgeon blog, where I'm a near-daily commentator and where Mary Worth, currently written by Karen Moy and drawn by Joe Giella, is one of the strips routinely up for discussion/ridicule. Of all the strips regularly featured on Comics Curmudgeon, Mary Worth is perhaps closest to my heart. It's even funnier than Mark Trail and Apartment 3-G, which is saying a lot. There's just something so endearingly square about it that I can't help but love it -- the stilted dialogue, the glacial plots, the questionable fashion choices, and the bizarre-looking food. (Who can forget Mary's famous salmon squares?) In all, Mary Worth is one of the fleeting pleasures which help make life worth living, which is apparently why I decided to morph Dr. Jeff with Porky Pig in that picture you see off to the right. Maybe it's because Jeff and Porky really know how to rock a blazer.

Hester Prynne is dead!

Lillian Gish goes to the scaffold once more in an adaptation of Nathaniel Hawthorne's The Scarlet Letter.

Thomas Bowdler's legacy

You might have noticed some cosmetic changes here at Dead 2 Rights lately. Allow me to explain them, as they represent some not-insignificant alterations to the site's content as well. First of all, this blog's flirtatious previous mascot, late pinup model Fran Gerard (aka Miss March 1967), has been replaced by the stern, unsmiling visage of one Thomas Bowdler (1754-1825), an English physician best known for producing The Family Shakespeare.

Bowdler's infamous tome, first published in 1807, was a volume containing expurgated -- which is to say "cleaned-up" -- versions of William Shakespeare's plays. "Nothing is added to the text," proclaimed an 1819 advertisement, "but those words and expressions are omitted which cannot with propriety be read aloud in a family." So Lady Macbeth's "Out, damned spot!" became "Out, crimson spot!" Because of The Family Shakespeare, Bowdler's name became forever synonymous with censorship. To bowdlerize something is, in essence, to remove the naughty bits.

Thomas Bowdler's intentions were not altogether -- or even chiefly -- evil. He lived in a more prudish time than ours and simply wanted a version of the Bard that he could share with his wife and children. Because of Bowdler and his book (or, rather, series of books, for The Family Shakespeare was a franchise), the teaching of Shakespeare to younger children became more acceptable.

Other editors had gone much further than Bowdler, actually tacking on happy endings to some of Shakespeare's tragedies. Bowdler's work was meant to counteract that sort of desecration. But no matter: Thomas Bowdler was rendered a villain by history, a sour-faced scold who dared to censor the greatest writer in history. Tough luck, Tommy.

Nearly two centuries after Bowdler's death, writers and artists must still contend with the prevailing moral attitudes of their time. This blog, for instance, has been created on the Blogger platform. Blogger, in turn, is owned by Google. And Google has, I can assure you, an absolute horror of sex. They're not alone. Lots of people have a horror of sex. It disturbs them to a greater extent than any act of violence ever could. For many of these people, nudity and sex are synonymous. The image of a bared female breast is, for these people, a source of great discomfort. That's just a reality. It's how people think.

So what does this mean for me? Well, for the last few months, it has meant that my blog has had a "Content Warning" screen that readers had to click through before they could read whatever I'd just written. I opted to put one on there myself so that Google wouldn't do it for me. That would have been far too embarrassing. To be honest, though, I hated that warning, even though it was self-inflicted. I cringed every time it popped up on my own screen. Yes, even I had to click through it to reach my own blog. Even though I have never profited one dime from Dead 2 Rights, that warning made me feel like a pornographer. Like Hester Prynne, I was wearing a badge of sexual shame. Hers was red, mine was orange.

So this week, I did what I felt I had to do: I bowdlerized the holy hell out of Dead 2 Rights. In essence, I performed an exorcism on this blog... or, perhaps more accurately, a sexorcism. As far as I can remember, not a word of the text has been altered, though some links have been removed, as have some embedded videos.

Most crucially, over 50 images have been voluntarily altered rather than excised. Exposed breasts, vaginas, penises, and even asses have been dutifully blacked out. As you might imagine, this almost exclusively affects the Ed Wood Wednesdays series. I'm very proud of the work I have done on those articles, and I want them to remain easily available and accessible. If that means putting black rectangles over some boobies, so be it.

Thanks for understanding,

Joe

Ed Wood Wednesdays, week 57: The Auction of Lot #3026 (UPDATED!)

This suitcase full of Ed Wood's shattered hopes and dreams can be yours.

"Oedipa settled back, to await the crying of lot 49."

-Thomas Pynchon

"Auction houses run a rigged game. They know exactly how many people will be bidding on a work and exactly who they are."

-Jerry Saltz

I've done some dumb things in my time, citizens. Made a lot of mistakes—professionally, personally, romantically, financially, you name it. But this week, dear readers, I was tempted to do perhaps the stupidest thing I have ever done in my time on this planet: drop a good chunk of my life savings on some battered old suitcases and yellowing pieces of paper, simply because these trinkets once belonged to Edward Davis Wood, Jr.

Let me explain.

A few months ago, well into doing this project, I finally got the bright idea to sign up for a Google Alert on Ed Wood so that I'd get regular updates in my e-mail inbox whenever something Wood-related popped up in the news. Now, that probably seems like a no-brainer to you, but there is no such thing as a "no-brainer" in my world. Even something as simple as this was a "some-brainer" for me. It took about a year or so before that particular neuron finally fired in my brain.

So, anyway, these last few months, Google has been dutifully sending me Ed Wood stories, sometimes about the man himself and other times just about the 1994 biopic that bears his name. For example, when that film's director, Tm Burton, reunited with screenwriters Scott Alexander and Larry Karaszewski on another quirky biopic, Big Eyes, I received a slew of links about it. That's to be expected.

Google has also been telling me a lot about the recent Plan 9 remake, so much so that now I feel vaguely obligated to review it. (I kind of don't want to. I'd be perfectly content to let that particular sleeping dog lie, you know?) And when a theatrical troupe in Las Vegas turned Glen or Glenda? into a stage show, well, I heard all about that, too.

None of this has been too terribly earth-shattering or paradigm-shifting, even though this kind of news is most welcome. Last week, however, I had an e-mail alert with a headline that shook me to my core: "Director Ed Wood's belongings up for sale."  Quoth (the weirdly British-seeming, yet American-named) Hollywood.com:

A Plan 9 program.

A collection of director Ed Wood's belongings will be auctioned off later this month (Mar15). More than 200 items which once belonged to the iconic moviemaker are up for sale, including a briefcase containing photographs from his 1959 movie Plan 9 from Outer Space, a page from a notebook featuring Wood's notes on sexual terminology, and a programme from one of his first plays. The briefcase is the most expensive item in the collection with a starting bid of $2,500 (£1,600) while the signed programme is up for $300 (£190). Items from Wood's personal Hollywood memorabilia collection are also up for sale including actress Greta Garbo's 1938 immigration card and an array of candid backstage pictures from various movie shoots. The Hollywood Lifetime Collection Auction is to be held in Cambridge, Massachusetts on 19 March (15).

Now, how could I pass up something like that? (Garbo's green card? Are you shitting me?) Obviously, this required some further investigation.

A quick search for "Hollywood Lifetime Collection Auction" led me to this: a tantalizing, blow-by-blow description of  Lot #3026 - Ed Wood's Personal Collection on a site called RR Auction. Now, you might be wondering, how did Ed Wood even have a "personal collection," seeing as how he kept getting evicted from different residences and was thus forced to throw most of his precious mementos away?

Unsurprisingly, the answer was provided by superfan Bob Blackburn, the fellow who befriended Kathy Wood in her final years and became the co-keeper of the Ed Wood flame, so to speak, after her death. On the Ed Wood Facebook group, Bob recently explained: "I actually own the one suitcase that Ed and Kathy had when they were evicted from their Yucca St. apartment in December of 1978, which is identical to one that is included in this lot. The one I have, Kathy had kept the manuscript for Hollywood Rat Race in and the script for I Woke Up Early The Day I Died." Sounds like a choice item.

But what about the suitcase being auctioned off in 2015? Bob again: "This was from the Bekins Storage up on Lankershim [Blvd. in North Hollywood]. They put their stuff there at one time, and it got sold off. There's stories that some of the film canisters that Ed had were also in that unit." 

So there you have it, folks. Decades before Storage Wars, Ed and Kathy Wood put some belongings into a storage unit and then just couldn't keep up with the payments, so their possessions became somebody else's possessions. And now, that stuff is available to the highest bidder, which could be you, dear reader.

According to the official site for the Ed Wood sale, these rare items come from the James Collings Collection. Based on his official bio, Collings, who passed away in 2012, seems like an interesting character in his own right: an obsessive, hippie-ish memorabilia collector, numismatist, and autograph hound who met his wife in a 12-step program. (For hoarders, one wonders?) From what I can glean, it's Jimmy's widow, Merlyn, who's authorizing this auction. According to the bio, she "seamlessly embraced her husband's insatiable lifestyle." Meaning, I guess, she enabled his addiction while he was alive and now wants to make bank on all that junk he accumulated over the years. Good for her. I don't blame her a bit.

So what have we got here? Let's go over some of  the juicier items in detail:

Ed Wood's briefcase

• For many, the main item of interest in this sale is a light-brown, cowhide-leather, Rexbilt briefcase that was personally owned and used by Edward D. Wood, Jr. If the photo can be trusted, there's even a fading "EDW" monogram in the lower-right-hand corner. This is a fantastic-looking item. I can imagine Eddie toting this around with him when he went to meetings with potential publishers or backers. Gotta look the part, after all. Accessories make the man. "Anybody carrying that kind of briefcase must know what he's talking about! How much do you need, Mr. Wood? One million? Two million? Is cash all right? You certainly have room for it in that magnificent briefcase of yours!"

• Then, there are two further pieces of luggage the auctioneers are describing as "trunks," which maybe makes them sound bigger than they are. You can see one of them at the top of this article. These are boxy, suitcase-sized jobs, one of which was manufactured by "Travelgard Vancouver Trunk & Bag Ltd." That company, which dates back to the 1930s, seems to be long gone today. Pity. I can't help but think back to a 1996 Simpsons episode entitled "Bart the Fink" in which a cash-strapped Krusty the Clown has to auction off his possessions. One item in particular is "a handmade leather suitcase carried by the Krustofski family upon their arrival at Ellis Island in 1902. A priceless heirloom and historic piece of Krustyana." It goes for a whopping 40 cents to Marge Simpson's chain-smoking sister, Selma, who buys the cherished keepsake just to soak her feet in it. 

• There's a whole mess of Plan 9 promotional items, including a few pressbooks, stills, and behind-the-scenes photos, complete with (apparently unheeded) suggestions for alterations by Ed Wood himself, who wanted Bela Lugosi posthumously added to a cast portrait along with "smoke" and "special effects." Touchingly, one of these items bears a dedication to Wood's longtime cinematographer, William C. Thompson, "the cameraman who made it all possible!!"

• I'm guessing that the 1965 autographed glossy photo of Ed Wood "on a film set with his camera in the background and a script in his lap" derives from the production of Orgy of the Dead, given the year and the fact that it's signed "To Steve, My friend a thousand times over." Who could that be but Orgy director Steve Apostolof?

A program from The Casual Company.

• For me, maybe the most interesting item in the entire auction is a program from The Casual Company, the autobiographical, WWII-set play Ed wrote, directed, and costarred in after moving to Hollywood in 1947. I've said before that Eddie's 1940s theatrical career has not been properly documented, and this ultra-rare document helps to fill in some gaps there. It reveals, for instance, that the show was performed by a troupe called "the Sad Sacks," which included Ed himself and future Night of the Ghouls producer and Atomic Productions co-founder, Maj. J.C. Foxworthy. Moreover, the show is much less serious than it is depicted as being in Tim Burton's Ed Wood. The cover describes it as "A Farce in Three Acts," and the characters have such Beetle Bailey-worthy names as "Pfc Elbo Joints," "Pfc Jim Nastics," "Pfc Lemmy A. Dime," "Ilene Sideways," and "Mary Widow." Eddie gave himself the rather-more-dignified-sounding role of "Corporal Anthony," while his buddy Foxworthy played "Capt. J. Sleepingwell Gutter." Make of that what you will. Unlike what Burton's movie says, by the way, the cast and crew does not include such Wood regulars as Dolores Fuller, Conrad Brooks, Paul Marco, or Bunny Breckenridge. Eddie likely hadn't even met those people yet.

• You've gotta have some Tor Johnson stuff in this auction to make it official. Luckily, there are three Tor-autographed photos here, including one from 1961 in which the Super Swedish Angel refers to Ed Wood as "my favorite producer." The auction people warn bidders that "all signatures are extremely faded, with poor contrast," but they also point out that "Johnson played iconic roles in Wood’s most notorious films and represents an exceedingly rare horror autograph." Take 'em or leave 'em, folks.

• The only item that competes with the Casual Company program for sheer Wood-ian intrigue is a "lined notebook page of Wood's typed and handwritten notes on sexual terminology." In the 1960s and 1970s, in addition to writing novels and short stories, Wood also wrote (often under pseudonyms) many, many, many volumes of non-fiction, usually sexual and salacious in nature. (Bloodiest Sex Crimes of History is a good example.) Although such works were pure hokum with no scientific validity, Eddie took these publisher-mandated assignments rather seriously. From his earnest entry on aphrodisiacs: "Spanish Fly is probably the most talked of aphrodisiac, but it is actually a diuretic." Good to know. Furthermore, such supposed love potions as absinthe "are merely intoxicants." And that's something about which Eddie was truly an expert.

• In a strange coincidence, the auction also includes "a magazine layout for Wood's short story 'Howl of the Werewolf,' framed to an overall size of 22 x 28." In case you're just joining us, I devoted the entirety of the previous Ed Wood Wednesdays to that particular story of a lusty lycanthrope and his most-unfortunate female victim, a stressed-out secretary who should never have vacationed in the woods during werewolf season. As such, I can attest that the unsigned artwork accompanying the story is quite eye-catching. And now, here it is, coming up for auction. Small world, am I right?

On the set of The Sun Was Setting.

And there's more, too. Much more.

Lot #3026 includes stills, press clippings, lobby cards, and publicity photos related to Jail Bait (aka The Hidden Face), The Sinister Urge, The Bride and the Beast, Crossroad Avenger, Bride of the Monster, and Fugitive Girls, among others. Basically, this is the exact stuff to which I have devoted the last two years of my life. If you could fit the last twenty-four months of my existence into two steamer trunks and a suitcase, it would look like this. What really surprises me is that there are even some items connected to obscure or semi-forgotten Wood projects, like The Lawless Rider, Final Curtain, and The Sun Was Setting. That's some Ph.D-level, Advanced Wood-ian Studies material there, folks. Who knew that publicity photos from these productions even existed anymore?

The auction people, by the way, want us to know that Lot #3026 is "accompanied by several letters of provenance from notable figures, including Maila Nurmi (Vampira), Wood's biographer Rudolph Grey, David Ward, and Dennis Phelps." Not being familiar with the memorabilia biz, I'll admit that I did not immediately know what a "letter of provenance" is. Based on my limited understanding of the subject matter, though, I'll surmise that it's basically a letter attesting to the authenticity of an item.

The bidding on Lot #3026 begins on March 12, 2015. That's tomorrow, if you're reading this article the day it goes out. It continues for a week. The minimum opening bid, as you already know, is $2500. Yes, I will be bidding on this.  Don't worry. I have no chance of winning. Bob Blackburn says that the final price should be in the $30,000 range. That's a little rich for my blood. Hell, that's a lot rich for my blood. Thirty-thousand smackeroos. That's a chunk of change.

I can't help but shake my head at the bitter irony of this. After all, this entire auction is possible because Ed Wood was so profoundly broke he couldn't afford his North Hollywood storage unit anymore. If Eddie were around today, there's no way he hope to buy back his old suitcases full of faded memories. There's no way I can buy them back, either, but I'm going to make a token effort nonetheless. For loyalty's sake.

A taste of Lot #3027, the second best thing in the auction.

Incidentally, if there's no way you can possibly afford Lot #3026, there are a number of less expensive items that are being auctioned off separately and that may be in your (and my) price range, including vintage one-sheets for Glen or Glenda? (under the title I Led 2 Lives), Plan 9, Bride and the Beast, The Sinister Urge, Jail Bait, and a collection of eleven of Eddie's sexploitation films (including Love Feast, Beach Bunnies, Drop Out Wife, and others). The minimum bids on these are generally $200 apiece, though Plan 9 is starting at $300, presumably because it's Ed's most famous creation.

Additionally, there are some Plan 9 and Bride of the Monster lobby cards up for bids, too, plus three of Vampira's excellent self portraits (in black and white with red accents). RR Auction is also including under the "Ed Wood" category some titles that have only a little bit to do with Eddie, including Mesa of Lost Women, The Unearthly, and Beast of Yucca Flats.

By far, the most interesting item other than the already-legendary Lot #3026, however, is #3027 Signed Ed Wood Program and Script. Starting bid: $300. What you get here is a program for The Blackguard Returns, a 1949 play in which Ed portrayed a sheriff, and a script for 1959's Night of the Ghouls. Why these items should be paired, I do not know, but they are accompanied by a "four-page scrapbook" from actor Don Nagel, who was a regular in Wood's films during the 1950s.

The auction is shaping up to be the single biggest Ed Wood-related story of 2015, just as the release of Blood Splatters Quickly and the new DVDs from Alpha Blue Archives and After Hours Cinema were the most important developments of 2014. As evidence, I point you to this excited article by John W. Barry from Ed Wood's hometown paper, the Poughkeepsie Journal. It includes some exultant comments by RR Auction's vice president, Bobby Livingston, who says that the sale offers "a peek into who Ed Wood was" and calls the auction "one of the most incredible things I've ever seen." Local Ed Wood fans are also interviewed in Barry's article, including Joe Mendillo, who is part of the effort to raise $30,000 to build a statue of Edward D. Wood, Jr. in Poughkeepsie. He sees the auction as a good thing. "The more enthusiasm," states Mendillo, "the more likely Poughkeepsie will get its statue."

It's understandable that some of Ed Wood's fans were hoping that the auction would remain fairly obscure. Fewer bidders mean lower prices, after all. But it now appears that the toothpaste is well out of the tube on this one.

Get your checkbooks ready.

Let this photo ruin your day, why don't you?

A brief, biological memory

The powerhouse of the cell.

The nearest thing I ever had to a spiritual experience happened to me when I was in high school. I was 14 years old and a reluctant student in a freshman biology course. This particular teacher and I did not exactly get along famously, and I found the subject matter -- i.e. the very mysteries of life itself -- just as deathly dull as anything I'd ever heard. Maybe those two facts are connected somehow. I know the class involved a lot of sitting still and taking notes. 

Anyway, I would get so bored in class that my soul or spirit would rise up out of my body and float toward the ceiling. I could look down and see myself sitting in class, taking (likely inaccurate, definitely illegible) notes about mitochondria or whatever it was we were supposed to be learning that day. The body stayed in class; the spirit was free to travel. I've never had that experience since then. It was the closest I ever came to believing in the existence of the soul. As for mitochondria, well, I never did figure those out. I know they're "the powerhouse of the cell," but that's as far as my understanding extends.

Joe's annual slog through the Best Picture nominees: Part Two

Conceptual artist Plastic Jesus takes a swipe at the Oscars with this public statue.

Dead 2 Rights will be going dark and staying dark for a while, my lovelies. Not by my choice. Circumstances have forced my hand. Specifically, I'm going to be doing some mandatory overtime at my job, and the Geek Squad have informed me that -- after five weeks of deliberation and analysis -- my laptop is irreparable. I learned both of these unhappy pieces of information on Friday afternoon. (Not a good day, in case you were wondering.) 

These are gloomy times, dear reader, gloomy times indeed. As the Walker Brothers put it back in '65, "The sun ain't gonna shine anymore. The moon ain't gonna rise in the sky." The days ahead are filled with long, tedious hours of work and very little time or opportunity for creative expression. Getting up earlier. Getting home later. Seeing very little (or no) daylight. I am currently very tired and very discouraged. But you know what? I'm only halfway through my rundown of the 2015 Best Picture nominees, and I figured I might as well finish the job before this blog goes on hiatus.

B o y h o o d

Ellar Coltrane gets older. This movie stays the same age.

Director: Richard Linklater

Cast includes: Ellar Coltrane, Patricia Arquette, Ethan Hawke, Lorelei Linklater, Marco Perella

The gist of it: Quiet, introspective Mason, Jr. (Coltrane) and his more outgoing sister (Linklater) grow up with a stressed-out but caring single mother (Arquette) over the course of 12 somewhat bumpy years in Texas. Mason's father (Hawke), an aspiring musician, initially struggles with being a responsible adult but does what he can to be a consistent presence in his children's life and eventually matures and mellows over time. Meanwhile, Mason's mother gets an education of her own and becomes a professor but makes some poor romantic choices and goes through two painful divorces from alcoholic men. Mason and his sister witness all of this, and it shapes who they become as they leave home and go off to college.

My take: First, an aside. I have joked, on more than one occasion, that the Harry Potter movies already did what Boyhood did, only with the addition of magic powers. At the time I first said that, I hadn't actually seen Boyhood. Well, now I know that same thought must have occurred to writer-director Richard Linklater, too, because there's a strong Harry Potter motif running through Boyhood, with at least two major scenes built around the J.K. Rowling franchise. 

Linklater's film is one of the most talked-about of the eight nominated movies and a perceived front-runner in the category. Much of the discussion has centered around the film's extraordinarily protracted production. (Linklater filmed the movie in pieces over twelve years so that star Ellar Coltrane would age naturally on camera.) Support for the film has been vocal, and this has triggered the usual, predictable backlash. I tried to ignore all of this and appreciate Boyhood on its own terms, which turned out to be a good strategy. 

This is a remarkably gentle film. Anyone waiting for a Big Plot Twist (death, car accident, courtroom trial, disease, unexpected pregnancy, etc.) is bound to be disappointed, as will anyone waiting for a Big Profound Message. Boyhood had neither, which very much separates it from most Oscar-nominated films. I, for one, was grateful. Linklater, who based Boyhood somewhat on his own experiences as a youth, does not try to force any plot complications or easy homilies onto these characters. He just observes them and lets us observe them. That was enough for me. It might not be for you.

My grade: B

T h e   T h e o r y   o f   E v e r y t h i n g

Eddie Redmayne and Felicity Jones share a tender moment in The Theory of Everything

Director: James Marsh

Cast includes: Eddie Redmayne, Felicity Jones, Harry Lloyd, Alice Orr-Ewing, David Thewlis

The gist of it: A biopic of British physicist Stephen Hawking, following him from his days at Cambridge in the 1960s to the successful publication of his book, A Brief History of Time, in the 1980s. Just as he's starting to make some potentially game-changing discoveries about the nature of black holes and the origin of time, Hawking's body turns traitor on him. A neuromuscular disorder gradually and painfully robs him of the ability to move and speak, leaving him confined to a motorized wheelchair and reliant upon a robotic-sounding, computer-generated voice. 

Initially given just two years to live, Hawking manages to survive for decades, eventually being recognized as perhaps the most famous and influential thinker of our time. Helping to make all of this possible is his strong-willed, long-suffering wife Jane (Jones), a brilliant woman in her own right who makes incredible sacrifices in order to care for her ailing husband. Part of what motivates Jane is that she truly believes in Stephen's work, though they often clash over religion and the existence or nonexistence of God.

My take: Arguably more famous than anything Stephen Hawking has ever said, done, or written is the image of the man himself: the fragile, motionless frame crumpled up in a motorized wheelchair, feet turned inward, shoulders askew, head lolled to the side, with a tinny, mechanized voice squawking from a speaker next to him. It's a classic tragic image: an extremely active mind held captive in a dungeon of a body. 

I think, despite our admiration for his accomplishments, we can't help but feel a bit sorry for him, though I doubt he'd want our pity. It's human nature. The Theory of Everything plays a bit like a superhero origin story. Gradually, over the course of its running time, we see Stephen Hawking become the "Stephen Hawking" that we all know from documentaries, acquiring all the trademark accessories one by one. We get to see him as a young man and think, "Oh, he used to be able to ride a bicycle! How sad!" 

This is a sentimental, heartstring-tugging biopic which, curiously, is not that much interested in science. Sure, we get some moments when Hawking makes breakthroughs, but the movie is much more about his relationship with wife Jane, and how it is affected by various outsiders (a male choir director, a female caregiver). It's almost soapy. None of this really registered with me, but I'm not sure why. It felt like a movie I would have recommended to my mother or grandmother, if either of them were still alive.

My grade: C+

T h e   I m i t a t i o n   G a m e

Benedict Cumberbatch's best friend is a machine in The Imitation Game.

Director: Morton Tyldum

Cast includes: Benedict Cumberbatch, Keira Knightley, Matthew Goode, Rory Kinnear, Allen Leech, Matthew Beard, Charles Dance

The gist of it: During World War II, brilliant British mathematician Alan Turing (Cumberbatch) -- a computer pioneer later famed for his "Turing test" -- works on a top-secret British military project to decode the Nazis' seemingly-unbreakable Enigma machine, which scrambles messages to outsiders to the point that they are impenetrable. 

Turing pins his hopes on a self-built machine he dubs "Christopher." Although he and his team, including proto-feminist Joan Clarke (Knightley), do eventually get Christopher to work and defeat Enigma, they realize that their newfound knowledge has to be doled out subtly and discreetly, so as to avoid tipping the Nazis off. Turing's codebreaking skills secure several important Allied victories and shortens the war by years, but the public is never made aware of his great achievements. After the war, in fact, Turing faces legal troubles for his then-illegal homosexuality.

My take: It seems like it would hardly be a Best Picture Showcase if there weren't at least one movie about the plight of African-Americans (slavery and the civil rights movement) and another movie about World War II. Selma was this year's example of the former category, a slot which has been filled by 12 Years a Slave, Lincoln, and The Help in years past. And it looks like The Imitation Game is this year's designated WW2 flick. This one is sort of a "twofer," since Alan Turing's postwar legal persecution also allows the filmmakers to work in a lesson about the evils of homophobia. 

Mainly, this movie suggests that perhaps that the war could have been over much sooner if everyone in England weren't such an insufferable prig. The movie presents Turing as a martyr figure who faces prejudice, doubt, and pigheadedness at every stage of his life and career. He has to shield "Christopher" with his body on multiple occasions. 

I guess the best thing about The Imitation Game is that it gives us a new perspective on the question: how do you win a war? The movie occasionally cuts away to footage of planes and tanks and soldiers, to remind you what's happening in the rest of England while Turing is fussing over his machine. But, as this movie sees it, the war wasn't won on any battlefields. It was won by a bunch of nerds doing calculations in a little hut. That's kind of inspiring, but I'm afraid it doesn't make for the most scintillating cinematic experience, at least not for me. 

Due to some questionable programming, I had just sat through another movie about British people working out complicated problems on chalkboards. Some "biopic fatigue" had started to set in while I watched this. Still, I don't see myself returning to The Imitation Game later in life.

My grade: B-

A m e r i c a n   S n i p e r

Bradley Cooper aims to kill for his country in American Sniper.

Director: Clint Eastwood

Cast includes: Bradley Cooper, Sienna Miller.

The gist of it: Rodeo cowboy Chris Kyle (Cooper), though approaching 30 years of age, feels obligated to join the Navy SEALS in order to combat terrorism and put his fearsome sharpshooting skills to use in defense of his nation. Once in Iraq, he becomes a sniper and quickly earns the nickname "the Legend" for his long list of confirmed kills. His wife, Taya (Miller), suffers greatly as Kyle serves four harrowing tours overseas. She has to raise the couple's two children virtually alone as he risks his life in combat and sees his buddies die around him. Though he denies it, the experience changes him greatly. 

When he comes back home between tours, he seems to be in a daze. His blood pressure is off the charts, and he experiences bouts of paranoia. After finally coming home for good, Kyle volunteers to help other wounded and mentally-disturbed veterans, partially to help them and partially to cope with his own PTSD and survivor's guilt. This endeavor, unfortunately, has tragic consequences.

My take: I only listed two cast members up there because, frankly, Cooper and Miller are the only two people who made a strong impression on me during American Sniper. There are various supporting characters, mainly military men who exist solely to get killed and provide further angst for the hero, but I had some trouble telling them apart. 

This is, at heart, the story of a man who struggles with his circumscribed role as a passionless killing machine and the wife who struggles to understand the man she married. This film serves as a blunt rebuttal to The Imitation Game.  How do you win a war? By shooting as many "savages" (the film's term) as you possibly can. American Sniper begins and ends as hero-making propaganda. The opening passages, regarding Kyle's upbringing and eventual entrance into the Navy SEALS, are almost painfully earnest and on-the-nose. The film's closing moments, too, are unambiguously sentimental. If you saw only the beginning and end of this film, you might mistake American Sniper for an updated version of a World War II propaganda picture. 

But there's a middle section full of protracted, bloody, bullet-ridden violence which may make the viewer question the nature of war and the effects it has on the men who fight. What happens to a man, for instance, when he has to kill a child in the line of duty? Unfortunately, American Sniper ultimately forgets any kind of ambiguity in its closing passages in favor of patriotic boosterism, thus (in my mind) negating much of what it had just accomplished. A shame, since Bradley Cooper labors mightily to make Chris Kyle a fascinating and multi-dimensional character.

My grade: C+

What Will Win: Boyhood
What I Want To Win: Birdman

17 Astonishing and Obscure Facts to Amuse Your Friends and Dazzle Your Enemies

Garfield stands on his hind legs... like a man!

Trivia. Whether you're appearing on a quiz show or just trying to make sparkling conversation at a dinner party, there's nothing like it. And yet, there never seems to be enough trivia around when you need it. Fortunately, Dead 2 Rights is here to help. Below, you will find 17 trivial statements which you are welcome to use in any social or professional situation. Enjoy!

• If you could drive your car straight upwards, you probably wouldn't want to.

• George Washington was never President of the United States. The rumor that he held this nation's highest office dogged him to the end of his days.

• Strictly speaking, berries are not berries, but cabbages are.

• There is no "i' in "March."

• If the sun were hollow, we'd all be in a great deal of trouble.

• Contrary to that old wives' tale, cats do in fact feel pain.

• "Hullabaloo" isn't Latin for anything in particular.

• That country between Spain and Germany? Surprise! It's France!

• The melting point of iron is a mystery which science has yet to solve.

• The earliest library card dates back to the time of Christ. The first book checked out was Garfield At Large by Jim Davis.

• Napoleon's last word was "bonkers."

• Without adjusting for inflation, items today cost much more than they did a hundred years ago.

• Former astronaut Neil Armstrong sadly wound up a derelict.

• Saying "celery soup" into a mirror three times is entirely safe and will have no unfortunate consequences. Try it yourself and see!

• Though famous for his plays, William Shakespeare would rather be remembered for his astonishing sexual prowess.

• Experts agree that the funniest word in the English language is "belch."

• Even the strongest ant is no match for a full-grown man.

Feel free to add your own in the comments section. Feel just as free not to add your own in the comments section.