The 11-11-11 Project Proceeds According to Plan

Well, my damn PC went down and I'm blogging in safe mode. Yeah, safe mode.
So, I'm going around my library selecting--on the fly--the tentative line-up for the 11-11-11 Project. It is composed of books I already own but have not yet read.
1.  Bleak House by Charles Dickens; Classic Literature.
2.  Scientist, Soldier, Statesman, Spy: Count Rumford by G.I. Brown, Historical Biography.
3.  Arthur & George by Julian Barnes, Historical Fiction.
4.  Annals of the Former World by John McPhee, Geology/Travel.
5.  A Dark-Adapted Eye by Barbara Vine, Thriller.
6.  The Age of Spiritual Machines by Ray Kurzweil, Science.
7.  The Annotated Innocence of Father Brown by G.K. Chesterton ed. by Martin Gardner, Short Stories.
8.  The Solitary Vice: Against Reading by Mikita Brottman, Current Events.
9.  The Echo Maker by Richard Powers, Contemporary Fiction.
10. Money Mischief by Milton Friedman, Economics.
11. War For the Oaks by Emma Bull, Urban Fantasy.

As we see, I alternated between fiction and non-fiction. Also, only two of these--the Dickens and the McPhee--could be considered doorstoppers, the rest are of moderate length at most. I didn't do this on purpose; I just picked titles that looked interesting. This way I have more time to read all the other books in my collection that I haven't read yet. You don't think I'm only going to read these eleven books do you?
And I suppose you could argue that Dark-Adapted Eye and the Father Brown stories are both mysteries, but from reading Eye's blurb, it really seems that it's more of a suspense story than a whodunit. Besides, finding fiction of different genres was a lot harder than I thought, so I figured that a short story collection from a century ago would differ sufficiently from a psychological thriller from the eighties.
I, of course, reserve the right to alter the line-up if I feel like it.
Should be fun.

A challenge for 2011

While I'm getting off my ass and working on the next movie in the series, I came across this article. The writer, Laura Miller, references the 10/10/10 challenge: 10 books in 10 different categories by 10/10/10. Starting on January 1, I'll take the challenge to the next level and pledge to read 11 books in 11 categories by 11/11/11. My first challenge is to think of 11 distinct genres.
Let's give it a whirl: in fiction we have Mystery, Literary Fiction, Steampunk, Historical Fiction, Hard Science Fiction, Comedy, Young Adult, Sword and Sorcery Fantasy, Urban Fantasy, Crime Fiction, Legal Thriller, Horror, Chick Lit, Spy Thriller, Magical Realism, Political Thriller.
In non-fiction: Biography, History, Science, Sports, Religion, Inspiration, Self-Help, Psychology, Philosophy, Humor, Politics, Economics, Finance, Business
I guess it all comes down to how you break down your genres. By January 1, I hope to have the full list of books and the order I'm going to read them. I'm toying with alternating fiction and non-fiction, but we'll see how that goes.

It's Banned Books Week! Yay?

Over at the Guardian, author Lauren Myracle makes an eloquent plea to 'build bridges' with book banners. I have to admire her general reasonableness and willingness to connect with these horrid pinheads. As you'll see below, she's way more generous and turn-the-other-cheeky than I am and I admire her for that.
Where Myralce and I part company is near the end of her article, when she raises an objection to someone calling book-banners "prudish, small-minded, and self-righteous." Isn't this like not wanting to label NBA all-stars as "tall and athletically inclined"? Aren't censors prudish, small-minded and at least a little self-righteous by definition? Are there any would-be book-banners running around who are libertine, cosmopolitan and humble? If you know any--or are one--please let me know.
She concludes her article with:

If you want to join the conversation, do this: read one of the titles on the current list of most frequently-challenged books. Then pass the book along to someone else, whether that someone is an adult or a kid. Then, together, talk about the book openly and with mutual respect for each other's opinions. Do that, and you will have made the world a better place.

I love the idea of sharing books and opinions with our intellectual enemies. After all, it'd be pretty hypocritical to try to shout them down or, worse, force them to abide by civil discourse. Great idea, I just wish I were more optimistic about it.
I disagree, however, with the notion that we have to respect their opinions. I absolutely respect their right to hold their cancerous, life-denying opinions, but the opinion itself? Never. The very idea of "I don't like it, so you can't have it" is toxic and stupid and needs to go the way of "Hey, let's own those guys and make them work our fields" and "My god wants me to be your king."
It's one thing to want to keep your child from certain books. (I'm still not sure that we ever have to protect kids from words and ideas, but as a parent that's absolutely your prerogative.) But the instant you try to tell someone else what they can read you've crossed the line. And that's the line we have to hold because if we give tiny-minded parochial types an atom of power over what we read, they'll try to take it all.

Seven! --What's in the box?!?

7. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004)
Directed by Michel Gondry. Written by Charlie Kauffman.
Starring Jim Carey, Kate Winslet, Kirsten Dunst, Mark Ruffalo, Tom Wilkinson, Elijah Wood.
  I can't remember another film that broke my heart as much as this one, yet I had the biggest smile on my face when I left the theater. This is one of the films I break out whenever someone starts saying that they don't make them like they used to, as if it were automatically a bad thing. I don't know if you could have made 'Eternal Sunshine...' in 1955, say, without audiences having infarctions right there in their seats.
  Or I could be full of crap. I think today's average moviegoer is more sophisticated in the sense that we've seen more filmmakers' tricks than our ancestors. Today's filmgoers, however, are probably not better at critical thinking. No worse, maybe, but certainly not better. The question is, apparently, would a film that demands and rewards our attention as 'Eternal Sunshine...' does have been commercially viable 40, 50, 60 years ago? Or am I shortchanging both yesterday's film fans and filmmakers?
  Another thing.... I don't cry at movies because it's not, well, real. I'm sorry, but even the most skillful make-believe just doesn't do it for me. This film, however, is on the short list of ones that might do the trick if I weren't, you know, dead inside.
  Trivia moment: Elijah Wood is one of only two actors to star in two of my top ten films. You've met the other guy and I'll reveal who it is when the time comes.

Eight is not Enough

Sorry, you two. I've been moving and been without intertubes access for a week. I'll try to make up for it with a second post later this week.

8. Vertigo (1958)
Directed by Alfred Hitchcock. Written by Alec Coppel and Samuel A. Taylor.
Starring Jimmy Stewart, Kim Novak, Barbara Bel Geddes, Tom Helmore.
  Warning! This post contains spoilers for Vertigo. If neither of you has seen Vertigo, watch it before reading this. Everybody deserves to see Vertigo unspoiled.
  Kim Novak's performance as Madeline/Judy might be the best I've ever seen. For a long time I lamented that Hitchcock couldn't use Grace Kelly, my favorite actress, in the role because she was off princessing (yeah, I just verbed it). But then I realized that while Kelly could play Madeline Elster in her sleep (Regal, icy, self-possessed. Check, check, and check.) I'm less sure about her ability to play Judy Barton (earthy, small-town, easily swayed). And after another, more recent viewing I concluded that Kim Novak was perfect. In the scene at the mission just before Madeline's death, she tells Scottie "it's too late" as she's pulling away from him. We think that Madeline means that the spirit of Carlotta Veldes is compelling her and that it's too late to stop her. As we find out later, that's actually Judy speaking, telling Scottie that despite her burgeoning feelings for him it's too late for her to back out of Gavin Elster's plot. And if you go back and look, you can see Judy peeking out from behind her Madeline mask as she struggles in Scottie's embrace.
  Vertigo is one of many films to receive mixed reviews at the time of release--such as 'The Night of the Hunter' or 'Duck Soup' or 'Bonnie and Clyde'--but has grown into a classic. Why is that? Are some films just so far ahead of their time that they cannot be appreciated fully in their own? Or is something else going on? I wonder if any underappreciated films of the last ten years will be regarded as classics. I think that will be the subject of an upcoming post.

Number Nine, Number Nine Number Nine...

The second in a series of what Flickchart says my top ten films are.
9. The Lord of the Rings (2001, 2002, 2003)
Directed by Peter Jackson. Written by Peter Jackson, Fran Walsh, Philipa Boyens and Stephen Sinclair [Two Towers only].
Starring Sean Astin, Sean Bean, Cate Blanchett, Orlando Bloom, Billy Boyd, Christopher Lee, Ian McKellen, Dominic Monaghan, Viggo Mortensen, John Rhys-Davies, Andy Serkis, Liv Tyler, Elijah Wood.
  Yeah, I know. Flickchart has this as three films, but I count this as one giant film dispersed over a two-year stretch. Mostly because it's one giant story that had to be segmented because a ten-hour film wouldn't be commercially viable. It's okay if you don't consider it one film, though. I don't mind.
  Oddly enough, this is the only real nerdtastic entry in my top 10 (with the possible exception of number 4, stay tuned....), but it's got enough nerditude for at least ten films. I remember waiting for this to come out and almost dreading it because I was afraid it would fail to live up to my expectations. And Roger Ebert's lackluster 3-star review didn't help. It took about ten minutes to quell any misgivings I had. And that includes eight minutes of prologue, which I think is unnecessary but still beautiful to watch. According to the DVD commentary track by Jackson, Walsh and Boyens, prologue was at one point mandated by the studio because the suits were afraid general audiences would be lost from the beginning and would be playing catch up when they should have been watching the movie. This is a real concern, but I think the prologue is a mistake because it puts the audience ahead of *every other character* in the film. After that eight minutes no character knows as much as any given viewer, and this robbed us of--among other things--the pleasure of sharing an "Oh, shit" moment with Frodo Baggins as he realizes that he possesses the most sought-after item in the entire world. Move the exposition in the prologue to the scene in which Gandalf sits down with Frodo at Bag-End, and everything works.
  Despite the amount of space I'm dedicating to this complaint, it's just a quibble. I love this film unabashedly and I could easily watch the whole thing every six months and not get tired of it. I don't do this, of course, because I'm afraid I'll get tired of it.
  Here's a thought. Is the 'Lord of the Rings' the best film ever made in which the fate of the world is at stake? Not that it has much competition. 'Dr. Strangelove,' maybe? Look at the Sight and Sound Polls or Ebert's Great Movies or The Spectator's 50 Essential Movies or a dozen other 'Best Of' lists and you'll see a paucity of worlds in peril. Coincidence? I don't think so, but I'm not sure why.

Movies, movies, movies...

  I started this blog back in January as a way to keep my writing skills sharp. In the meantime, I've been writing other stuff and been neglecting my faithful readers. (Note: I have no idea if I have any readers, but I'm pretending I have at least two.)
  A few months ago I signed up for Flickchart and discovered it to be a fun way to simultaneously catalog my movies and rank them in order of my favorites. And considering how long it's been since my last post, I think I now have an excuse to write some more and Flickchart is my springboard. I'm going to blog about my top ten films, at least one a week starting with....

 10. Notorious (1946)
Directed by Alfred Hitchcock. Written by Ben Hecht.
Starring Ingrid Bergman, Cary Grant, Claude Rains, Leopoldine Konstantin.
  Now, let's talk McGuffins. If you like McGuffins as much as I like McGuffins (hell, I even like typing the word 'McGuffin') then this is the film for you. What's a McGuffin, you ask? A McGuffin is anything in a story that drives the plot and it doesn't matter what it is. If you need an example, look no farther than the uranium ore from Notorious. You know, the stuff in the wine bottles? I don't blame you for forgetting, in fact, if you get to that scene and you actually care what's in the bottles, you're missing the point.
  This is but one of my theories about what separates good filmmakers from bad ones. It's a complex issue, but it boils down to this: The bad filmmakers try to make you care about the uranium ore, while the good ones know that it's about Alicia and Devlin and Alex and Alex's creepy mother.
  I could go on and I probably should, but what else remains to be said about this film? The three minute kiss that really isn't. Cary Grant as his most ambiguously slimy/charming (sorry, 'Suspicion'). The unbearable tension at the bottom of a cup of coffee.

  See you next week for number 9.