Sunday, May 29, 2011

Memorial-Day-Weekend-Appropriate

The past month or so has been four to five weeks of hell, with research papers, finals, you know. Additionally, there's a boatload of personal and emotional crap that decided to dock all at once at the worst academic time ever. (Maybe I will go into more detail with this later on...)

The good news is I'm about to embark on a huge trip to Europe- the biggest excursion I've ever taken. It'll be for about the entire month of June- Rome, Verona, Venice, Munich and Mathausen, Vienna, Prague, Berlin, Amsterdam, London, and then finally Paris (ah, Edith!). I'll try to update as often as possible- but don't count on it. This time, I'll actually have an excuse for being away from this blog.

(From the process of packing up at school, unpacking at home, and packing again for Europe- I have way too much clothing. I've donated a lot and that makes me feel good. Some girl is getting a kick ass pair of shoes somewhere.)

This really couldn't have come at a better time for a big trip- 2011 hasn't been completely horrid to me (maybe I'm just too positive), but it has been quite an emotional rocket so far. And me? Feel? What? Anything that can make me cry is either really good or really bad, and I don't think any of this falls into the good category: A heartbreak that was a long time coming, a friend going off to Afghanistan, multiple deaths of people through people (it's getting closer to me, which I'm not a fan of), a Holocaust class (enlightening, but depressing- I look at war and life and death and other things so differently now)... and it didn't come here and there sporadically, it came in droves and lasted for weeks until recently. Needless to say, I'm excited to get out of the States for a while, get away from all of this, and do what I do best: learn.

(I'm a history nerd. Woodrow Wilson was the man. I like to ignore the allegations that he was a racist and that he supported "The Birth of a Nation.")

WWII is a ridiculously important and heavy part of history. It's humanity at its worst and finest. I can't explain my appreciation or attraction for it, but I can say that I am doubly excited to visit its landmarks and whatnot when I go across the pond. It's really hard to describe how I was enlightened by the Holocaust class- but I most certainly was. It takes a specific kind of education and training to look at the Holocaust as both a tragic and beautiful time (the two often go hand in hand), to gain that appreciation for humanity and its skill and I'm lucky to have had that. I don't think I had sufficient training in high school; but I have now. I don't think people understand how much the world changed, how much humans changed, how much was taken away, (but at the same time) how much was given.

As for my class, we were also lucky enough to get a personal tour of the Holocaust museum from a survivor a few weeks ago. Zing! Talk about mind-blowing. One of the most amazing days of my life, though sad. I feel incredibly blessed to be legitimately connected to such an intricate part of history. It was a hard, hard class to get through- but absolutely necessary for the preservation of life and character. I would encourage a serious study of the Holocaust for any prepared adult. I'm not talking about textbooks, but videos and personal accounts; I'm talking about Primo Levi and Charlotte Delbo, the poetic prose of Art Spiegelman, Abraham Lewin, and Josef Zelkowicz. It is enough to make anyone truly realize the limits of the body and the strength of mind.

After receiving a special letter in the mail, I just thought and thought about the subject of war and its history (also propelled by my Holocaust class and the overwhelming presence of Navy, Marine, Army, whatever personnel in the city this week- Fleet Week 2011, patriotism sings and ladies' underwear fall off). I never thought I would be anywhere near it, but it's in my face now. It's amazing to think of what is going on at the other side of the world. Here, all I see are Facebook posts about what someone will have for breakfast or complaining about classes or generic work place- meanwhile there are people maturing in ways I can only imagine. There are thousands of people I don't know overseas, who are serving a purpose and making a difference for the benefit of people they don't know.

Yeah, I said it. Your work place is only so big and only affects X amount of people. Shame on you.

This isn't a pro-war statement by any means, just a declaration of recognition- yes, I know what's going on and I appreciate the service. You don't have to be pro-war to join armed services, you don't have to be pro-war to support them. But they should be appreciated. What they are doing is making a difference. I can't say so much for the marketing guy or the airbrush specialist.

As for war itself? I don't support it, but I will say that though war is ugly, it is inevitable. People can protest all they want; it's still going to happen. I'm going to get all English MA on you: it was Walter Benjamin that said "Without conflict, there can be no history" or something along those lines. (Whatever, the message is the same. Semester is over, I'm allowed.) Absolutely true. History does not exist without the subject of conflict. And those good times in history? Came out of conflict. Enlightenment in the 18th century would not have happened if France and England hadn't been duking it out. Famine, plague, and- you guessed it- war led to the Renaissance. And World War II and McCarthyism brought us out of the Depression, into what? Booming industries, the framework for feminism, utopias in the 50s, hippies in the 60s, and the civil rights movements. Gnarly. Like it or not, war does benefit; and I hate the idea of it, but it happens.

Every coin has two sides- the Holocaust taught me that and gave me its true meaning. I've always leaned towards the idea of balance, as so much of the world is based on it (though people rarely realize) and it was only recently that I firmly glued myself in that philosophy. Without getting all chatty on you (I think this is long enough really), I'll stay simple: we cannot recognize beauty without the tragedy, the ugly; the same goes for good and evil, life and death, black and white, Harry Potter and Voldemort, Jedi and the Sith. One must exist for the other to. We must not reject the negative, but if we are to desire the positive, we must accept it; it does not mean we must support it. Desire means movement and change. Change means conflict of all sizes. Conflict means history. It is a universal, never-ending cycle. We can only learn from it.

 I'm going to try and update often on my trip... Here's some things for the summer I'll be working on too:
Harry (Potter), Don't Surf
How "Black Hawk Down" Got Screwed Over In Every Way Possible
Why "Hunchback of Notre Dame" Should Be A Broadway Musical
Why "The Ultimate Fighter: Season 13" Sucked Hard
I Love "The Lord of the Rings"
... and more.

Monday, May 16, 2011

"Up" is Perfect. Why?

This may seem like a late review, but really, I just had an epiphany of the genius of what is "Up."
(Get it?)

Let's get this straight: I love soundtracks. Hans Zimmer, Alan Menken, Howard Shore, the list goes on. I'm a fan of epics- blaring trombones and trumpets with a march beat, with an impending "war" feeling. I'm also a fan of originality with trademarks, so no James Horner here (minus Titanic, but minus Celine Dion). I was under the impression that nothing could ever top Howard Shore's epic Lord of the Rings trilogy, with all its different memorable themes, epic choirs, and Ben Del Maestro sequences (Rohan, fuck yeah!). (To be honest, I don't know how many times I have listened to all three-plus hours straight through because my history with it goes all the way back to carrying a Disc-Man with me in high school.)

Then this little bugger of an animated film called Up  debuted in the summer of 2009, with Michael Giacchino of Pixar and "Lost" fame heading the orchestra, and turned my world upside down. Or maybe just took it into the sky with a bunch of balloons:


Naturally intrigued by the Pixar label (when do they not put out something good?), I immediately established that I needed to see this. How could you top Wall-E? And Eeeeeeeeva?

My first- and still standing- impression of Up: it is by far one of the most achingly, painfully beautiful films ever made. It did take me a while, however, to figure out why this film was so deeply resonating and emotional. Of course, the visuals are magnificent (Pixar is so reliable in that way): the bright and bold colors are used in this film like no other, not even Monsters, Inc. The details on the characters are ridiculously breathtaking and comical. However, neither of these typical Pixar stamps are the greatest part of Up. The visuals do not give way to the meanings of emotions behind the story; while they are striking, they do not represent what the story is supposed to make you feel. They amaze your rather than make you feel. The contrast between life and death; the difficulty of moving on after a loved one, life partner has passed away; the seamless, fluid movement between tragedy and comedy- it is all reflected in the music by Michael Giacchino. The definitive element of Up lies within a single tune- Ellie's theme.

Like Shore does in LOTR, Giacchino looks for different themes and motifs for each of the characters; however, what sets him apart from Shore is his ingenious ability to shape and mold those motifs according to the situation they are in; in this particular case, he tinkled around on a piano for a single chord that might be able to express the contrasting emotions of happiness and sadness and the state of beauty of both. Genius. One chord? Are you serious? Ellie's theme, arguably the most used melody, is by far one of the most versatile, meaningful, and memorable themes written in the past ten years; when I say "achingly, painfully beautiful," I am referring directly to this piece of music. There simply is no other way to describe it. In the sequence "Married Life" and its four short minutes, Giacchino and Pixar tell the story of two lives together through the song without any dialogue- an amazing feat, considering the magnitude and depth of its content. The music is not just a background factor: it perfectly mirrors the roller coaster of admiration that Carl and Ellie take together:


Watch that without crying, I dare you. I'm a sap, not an oak.

The composition of the tune is incredible within itself- it's really just a few chords. It is so simple, so quiet, and at the same time so effective and flexible. It is astounding to think about all the different ways Giacchino was able to pull this simplistic melody and its final effect on the viewers. The amazing thing about Ellie's theme is how I don't need to think of the film to feel the emotions. The initial tune on the piano has a naturally playful, innocent, endearing feel to it. Giacchino takes this away simply by slowing it down and highlighting the piano- sadness. The pain of moving on from a loved one's death- adding a small orchestra to play the counter melody. The growth of courage- a full orchestra, playing it in a waltz form. A highlight of what is beautiful in one's life- a full orchestra, slowed down, legato. Speeding it up with trumpets and a full drum beat, staccato- adventure. It just grows and grows throughout the film. While doing all of this in all its forms, it always keeps its hopeful and youthful imagination; more importantly, it keeps both sad and happy emotions at all times, no matter what the scenario is. There is something so simple and honest about it. It becomes the most important form of narrative of the film.

Primarily, it is used to reflect Carl's growth as he comes to terms with Ellie's death from the beginning to the end of the film- from playful and merry to slow and somber to finally acceptance and understanding, with a bit of a skip to it. While it plays in all its various forms, the audience is forever reminded of her impact and importance in Carl's life; the memory of their relationship is haunting and always present.  She is with him when he goes on his adventure, she is with him when he is sitting by himself, she is with him as he finds a new friendship, when he builds courage, finds his strength and motivation, discovers an abnormally tall and colorful bird, as he fights off the villains- and the tune evolves with each new scenario. The fact that it is played for seven minutes over the end credits in all the formats (also over pictures of Carl's life after Ellie) tells us the she is the unseen driving force behind the entire film and this is told wordlessly through the music. 

In one, simple tune. Amazing.

 I keep repeating the word "simple," and I hate repeating words so often but there really is no other word to describe what makes this score so resonating. Its life is in its simplicity. It is effortlessly beautiful, painstakingly reflective, and heart-breakingly hopeful, all in one. It doesn't need sappy lyrics or blasting trumpets to get the point across. Giacchino presents all the themes and characters of the film to us in, really, what's maybe fifteen or twenty seconds of music. There is no other soundtrack that evokes such strong emotions as Up. I'm not sure if he will ever to be able to top his accomplishment of Up; this might just be the definitive piece of his career. He should be proud of it. It truly is magnificent.

(I wrote this before watching the next video, soooooo I'm surprised that some of I said is in there. Watch for more genius.)

Monday, May 9, 2011

Sit Patiently, Please.

Finals. Crunch time. You know the deal. Won't be around for about two weeks. I'll be drowning in paperwork. Hooray. Will update ASAP. For reals.