Behold the comic genius of Evan Ferrante imitating Tom Cruise for this Ruffino corporate video.
Right now I’m wishing I knew enough Latin Greek to coin the name of a new phobia, whose definition would be, “the irrational fear that other people are leading more enjoyable lives than you are.”
Perhaps there’s a complicated German word for it. If they can invent schadenfreude and weltenschaung, they must have something handy for this occasion…
(Post and subject edited thanks to a smarty-pants friend.)
I went to see Blade Runner: The Final Cut tonight with Kara, during its limited engagement at the Ziegfeld theater here in New York.
In a word? Awesome.
And I do not say this lightly. I have been a major Blade Runner geek since I first saw the film on cable in the early 1980s; I came to revere it during my four years at NYU Film School, during which I saw a special theatrical screening of the original film at the Cinema Village theater on 12th street. Over the course of my film-school education, I wrote at least four, and possibly five term papers on various aspects of Blade Runner, ranging from its cinematic inception of cyberpunk to its blending of eras and genres to its religious symbolism, and much more.
As much as I have always loved and admired this film, I have also been one of the most unforgiving critics of both its original theatrical version and its so-called “Director’s Cut”, which in fact was nothing of the sort. The original and Director’s Cut versions are rife with glaring continuity errors both visual and spoken, as well as poor stunt-double shots. The original was marred by the peripatetic voice-over and the tacked-on happy ending; the Director’s Cut did away with those atrocities, but did nothing to address the other, more systemic problems.
This version does. Blade Runner: The Final Cut is the movie that I have always wanted to see. All the visual continuity errors I’ve been bitching about for nigh on 25 years? Fixed, thanks to the magic of Dolby ProTools and digital restoration. The bad stunt-double shots? Fixed, thanks to a re-shoot with actress Joanna Cassidy and more digital magic. The dialogue continuity errors? Re-edited and fixed. And best of all? These repairs are all subtle and seamlessly integrated into the film. If you hadn’t known where the errors originally were, you’d never know they’d been fixed.
The picture looks better than I’ve ever seen it, with stunning clarity, depth, and color intensity. The sound quality is hypnotic and crystal clear. I could’ve done with a touch less gore during Roy Batty’s scene with Eldon Tyrell, but I can live with it if that’s what Ridley Scott wants.
Don’t write this off as just another cheap ploy to make you buy another copy of a movie you already own. For the first time that I can remember, this one is actually worth it. I pray someone holds this up to George Lucas’s face one day and says, “See, you heavy-handed butcher of other directors’ films? This is how you restore a classic work of cinema! Get on your knees and grovel before Ridley Scott!”
As if you had to ask — I am definitely putting this DVD on my Christmas wish list. And if you have a chance to get out to the theater to see this on the big screen, I beg you: Go.
Because everyone else is doing it, my take on the past-present-future meme follows after the cut…
20 years ago, I…
… was a clueless freshman at NYU film school, struggling to overcome the culture shock of moving from the small town where I’d lived my whole life with my own bedroom, to a dorm room I shared with two other guys in the middle of Manhattan. And, little did I know at the time, I had just met my pal Glenn, who in years to come would become my best friend and the conduit for almost all the good things in my life.
10 years ago, I…
… started teaching myself HTML from a book so that I could make a lateral transfer at my job in a trade-magazine company to work on a new Web site with my favorite boss of all time, who was like a sister to me. This move into Internet-based editorial work made it possible for me to make a jump a few years later into a much better-paying job.
5 years ago, I…
… had just introduced to my family the woman who would become my wife, and I had just finished writing Wildfire, my first solo novel, which opened the door for me to start writing paperback novels a year later.
2 years ago, I…
… was writing Warpath, my Deep Space Nine novel.
1 year ago, I…
… was putting the finishing touches on the manuscript of Reap the Whirlwind, the third novel in the Star Trek Vanguard series — my longest single work to date; and I was kvelling about my first non-Star Trek novel, Wolverine: Road of Bones.
So far this year, I…
… have written Gods of Night, the first book of my Star Trek Destiny trilogy; have said farewell to my beloved friend and rabbi, David Honigsberg, who passed away in March at the maddeningly too-young age of 48; celebrated my third wedding anniversary; and met my longtime rock idols Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson of Rush.
… confirmed with my agent that I’ve just sold my first original novel, The Calling, to Simon & Schuster; and wrote the first scene of Mere Mortals, the second book in the Star Trek Destiny trilogy.
… will write the second scene of Mere Mortals.
… write the third scene of Mere Mortals. And so on, and so on….
I am pleased to post that, as of 2:30 a.m. today, I have finished the first-draft manuscript for Gods of Night, the first book in the Star Trek Destiny trilogy.
As a reward, I will now have ice cream. Then I will sleep.
Tomorrow, I will watch some DVDs and read a bit, just for pleasure.
On Monday I will start my read-through of the ms., to make certain that it’s internally consistent, and to polish it up as I go along. If all goes well, I will turn it in to my editors by the end of the week, and move on to book two, Mere Mortals next weekend.
One down, two to go. Yee. And, might I add, Haw.
…sometimes a phrase comes to me at a time when I have absolutely no use for it. This is one of those times, and the following is one of those phrases:
“It’s the literary/musical/dramatic/cinematic equivalent of a fart — it’s insubstantial and it stinks.”
If you steal it, remember to give me credit. Unless someone somewhere already used this exact phrase, in which case give them credit and remind me to slap my Muse for sleeping around again.