2018: Well, That's Over

2018 will go down as...another year. There were extreme highs and severe lows, much like any other
and time marches on like an endless parade with rapidly deflating balloons and floats that have seen better days than this one. But since we have to leave some kind of mark on the world, I'll give you a few of the better things that I experienced this year, pop culture-wise, my field of expertise that needs some serious weeding. You want the bad stuff? Look elsewhere. Try Facebook. You'll have a field day.

As always, keep in mind that these are my favorites things that I encountered in 2018, not necessarily that were released this year. 

FILM

SHAPE OF WATER 

Guillermo del Toro's Oscar winning film won my heart over as no other did, a perfect birthday present to myself.  See blog post

DUNKIRK

Christopher Nolan's masterful WW II epic confirmed him as one of the finest filmmakers of this generation.

ISLE OF DOGS

Do I have any "Best..." of lists that don't include Wes Anderson? Uh-uh.

THE BALLAD OF BUSTER SCRUGGS

The same can be said of the Coen Bros. And it is. 

THE OTHER SIDE OF THE WIND

Orson Welles' final film, finished by other hands, finally arrived after a 40 year wait, filled to the brim with brilliance and pretension, at times infuriatingly annoying, often jaw-droppingly fabulous. After another viewing, which some might consider an endurance test, I'll have more to say, but for now, I can only bow in respect. Catch the companion documentary THEY'LL LOVE ME WHEN I'M DEAD on Netflix as well.

TV

THE HAUNTING OF HILL HOUSE, BABYLON BERLIN and TABULA RASA

Three on Netflix top my list of faves. HILL HOUSE is probably the best ghost story ever committed to the small screen (well done, Mike Flanagan). BERLIN is a brilliant German series set in the days between the World Wars while RASA is another one of them ferrin' shows, this time from Belgium that I fell head over heels in love with. See blog post 

. 

THE AMERICANS

Ending on such a terrific note, a case study on how to wrap up a series

TRUST

This Getty kidnapping saga on FX featured a career defining performance by Donald Sutherland

THE TERROR and LODGE 49

Two swell AMC shows, one a 19th century thriller set in search of the Northwest Passage and the other, almost a prequel to THE BIG LEBOWSKI

MUSIC 

Grant Lee Phillips's WIDDERSHINS has to be my favorite album of the year, particularly the song "The Wilderness" while the best tune of the year had to be Nathaniel Ratecliff's haunting melancholic

"You Worry Me" moved me like none other.

BOOKS

FICTION

THE BARTENDER'S TALE by Ivan Doig

An author I had been unaware of until recently won me over with this coming of age tale set in Montana

THE TWELVE LIVES OF SAMUEL HAWLEY By Hannah Tinti

Many books I read this year dealt with parental issues for some reason, this one standing out from all the rest

NON-FICTION

THE AVIATORS by Winston Groom

From the author of FORREST GUMP, of all books, comes this superb telling of Charles Lindbergh, Jimmy Doolittle and Eddie Rickenbacker

ROBIN by Dave Itzkoff

I finished this soon after the death of Anthony Bourdain, a suicide that hit me as close to home as Robin Williams' did as few years before. Maybe that has something to do with my admiration of this book, but mostly because Itzkoff found a way to tell Robin's tale with all the warts exposed and with the respect he deserved.

So that's the good stuff I exposed myself to (careful...) while there was many others moments to cherish in 2018. First and foremost, the birth of my little warrior granddaughter Athena came into the world to claim it as her own. While I only had two of my plays produced this year, they landed on the same weekend, something else I toasted in celebration. I began work in earnest on a long-gestating novel of which I'm still putting together.

I lost a good lifelong friend in Glen Chin, a man whose heart and spirit were as huge as his talent and damn near lost another, giving me that feeling of mortality that keeps rearing its head as the clock continues to tick, tick, tick. Has this given a new perspective on the world? No. But if stop being selfish enough to realize that there's more to life outside of my narrow vision, I might just get out of this, certainly not alive, but with enough hope left behind for those I truly care about. Their numbers rise and lower with the tides...and so do I.

Cryptic comments for the end of 2018. Bring on the last year of new century teens.

NEXT!

To Life

In times of total frustration, I feel as though I've lost a good part of myself. But the truth of the matter is that I've merely misplaced me. This comes from a lack of forward mobility, stagnation and soul-crushing procrastination. The only person I can blame for this is staring right back at me in the screen of this laptop and that is me, me me. Fortunately,I can't see me right now because I would punch myself in the mush for wasting more time and energy online than taking care of business.

So I took a couple of necessary breaks while I engage in a refresher course in things that inspire and enrich my soul to serve as a reminder of who I am and what I am supposed to be.

While I took in THE SHAPE OF WATER on my birthday, I felt a need to take in another piece o' cinema because my time before the big screen has been limited to say the very least and I feel as though I've been missing out on one of the great joys of my life.

The great Portland independent movie house known as the Hollywood Theater had a very limited engagement of DUNKIRK in 70mm over the past two weekends. Having missed it on its initial run the past summer, here was the last possible chance to see this war epic, so the saying goes, as it was originally intended to be seen. Since I've never seen any film in this format to begin with, I ventured off to the other side of the Portlandian world and made it to the Hollywood, a a theater I have not visited in over 5 years.

I love this place. This is how I would run a movie theater with first runs, revivals and special showings that are trying like hell to keep the movie-going experience alive and kicking. These include such gems as B Movie Bingo, Hecklevision, the H.P. Lovecraft Film Festival and the occasional silent film with live organ accompaniment such as the upcoming SEVEN CHANCES starring Buster Keaton. This is exactly how to run a movie theater in the 21st century.
HOLLYWOOD THEATRE

I couldn't believe my good fortune the day I ventured forth from home to the other side of Portland, which can be both a trick and trek at the same time. Leaving later than I was comfortable with, I managed to fight my way tooth and nail out of the goddamn 'burbs (as I affectionately refer them) and onto the freeway with a credit of only twenty five minutes. When you figure in both traffic and parking, you're talking a deficit that could sabotage the entire excursion. But the Fickle Finger of Fate pointed in my direction and I made to the Hollywood with minutes to spare with even enough time to hit the can on the way in.

Without fanfare or even coming attractions, the film began and kept me nailed to my seat for the next two hours. DUNKIRK is a positively masterful piece of film making. Christopher Nolan's WW II epic is riveting from its opening frame to its last and immersed me completely. What I experienced on this Saturday afternoon was pure cinema, both in content and presentation. Kismet with capital K.

Besides inspiration of a cinematic kind, I turn to the other arts to recharge my soul. I have been absent from any recent showings at the Portland Art Museum for far too long and caught a very significant exhibit, once again, just in the nick of time on its final day. (Are we sensing a running theme here?)

The Wyeth Family, that being the American artists N.C., Andrew and Jamie, along with other relatives represented, had many of their most iconic works (minus Andrew's Helga pieces) presented in this extremely moving show. To view artwork of this caliber and stature that spanned over three generations and an entire century made me gape about in awe and total admiration for what artists contribute to this world and how that can continually passed down throughout time.

When I was in high school, I took a class called Humanities, taught by a Mr. Leonard Fass, an irascible and cantankerous sort who introduced this sullen teenager to many of the finest aspects in society including, music, literature and art. on one particular day, Mr. Fass  showed us a documentary about the Wyeths. It made such an impression upon me, opening both my heart and mind. Art became part of my DNA from that day forward and I've been grateful ever since.

Seeing the Wyeth exhibit and DUNKIRK were more than just a couple of fanciful outings on my days off from work. They serve to remind me what I'm supposed to not only do with my life, but who I am supposed to be. Time ticks away so relentlessly that it can steamroll you into submission, allowing life to pass you by. You can cast your dreams aside from pure fatigue and soon, regret sets in like a tumor. It's time to live again before it's too late.

L'chaim!