There were three reasons to be enthused about seeing “Changeling.” In no particular order: 1) Angelina Jolie who, when not collecting a paycheck from comic book detritus like “Wanted” or simply gallivanting (admittedly to our delight) as Lara Croft, is certain an actress of note. 2) Clint Eastwood, the quintessential director’s director whose mastery of filmcraft consistently yields handsome, unassuming but polished work – classical in the best sense of the word. And 3) J. Michael Straczynski (JMS), the man behind the milestone science-fiction series “Babylon 5”, an insightful writer who marks his first foray into feature films after years in television.Read here to learn why Truth Really Is Stranger Than Fiction.
31.10.08
review: changeling
28.10.08
irony in city of ember (spoilers!)
If you haven’t seen City of Ember and don’t want any spoilers, I suggest skipping this post. If you have, or you don’t mind having the end revealed, then read on…
In my review of City of Ember, I pointed out how the film lacks the kind of irony that gives characters depth. The best example lies in the character of Mayor Cole, played by Bill Murray with amusingly detached self-absorption. In Ember, the Mayor is not only responsible for managing the city, but for protecting a box with a timer gradually counting back from two hundred to zero. This is the amount of time that the city’s builders estimated it would take for the Earth surface to become habitable again after an unspecified apocalyptic disaster. And what’s so important about the box? Instructions on how to leave Ember.
In one of the film’s common-sense defying, but necessary, plot contrivances, the box gets lost sometime during the succession of mayors. Mayor Cole, then, may know about the box’s existence, but he clearly doesn’t have the mayoral knowledge that was passed down with the responsibility of safeguarding the box. Of course, the film is set at the time when the timer reaches zero. Ember is in a state of severe deterioration, the city’s hydroelectric generator is failing, food and other supplies are desperately low. Naturally, the Mayor does what any greedy bastard would do: steal supplies and hoard them in a secret lair where he can retreat too while everyone else perishes.
Naturally, Mayor Cole reaches an end befitting his villainy. The city discovers his duplicity while the kid heroes make their escape, and Mayor Cole heads for his lair, locks out his faithful accomplice…only to get attacked by a giant mutant mole rat. Ho, hum.
Let me present a different scenario. The city is desperate. The generator is at the critical breaking point. The kid heroes have discovered the box and figured the way out, but the Mayor’s hollow promises and obtuse politicking have left them no choice but to strike out on their own. Yet not all the population is fooled; they know something terrible is happening. In the confusion and disorder of an increasingly panicked population, the Mayor is revealed for what he is: a coward who put his own welfare above the people he ostensibly served. Fearful, Mayor Cole makes a run for his secret lair. Eventually, the kids find their out and, with the adults perfectly capable of tracing their footsteps given the machines they activated on their way, the remainder of Ember’s population follows. The city then collapses. The underground river overflows, flooding the streets and underground tunnels that make up Ember’s infrastructure – including the tunnel leading to Mayor Cole’s lair. With no way out, but guaranteed a lifetime’s supply of food and air, the Mayor is essentially buried alive with no way out. Depending on how vicious you want to be, he could either be oblivious to the fact that Ember’s people escaped, or he could be fully aware and helpless to do anything about it.
Now that’s irony, and it would work especially well if the character were developed to be more than just a weak, cowardly man, but a man whose dedication to public service became eroded by cynical fatalism and debauched indifference.
In my review of City of Ember, I pointed out how the film lacks the kind of irony that gives characters depth. The best example lies in the character of Mayor Cole, played by Bill Murray with amusingly detached self-absorption. In Ember, the Mayor is not only responsible for managing the city, but for protecting a box with a timer gradually counting back from two hundred to zero. This is the amount of time that the city’s builders estimated it would take for the Earth surface to become habitable again after an unspecified apocalyptic disaster. And what’s so important about the box? Instructions on how to leave Ember.
In one of the film’s common-sense defying, but necessary, plot contrivances, the box gets lost sometime during the succession of mayors. Mayor Cole, then, may know about the box’s existence, but he clearly doesn’t have the mayoral knowledge that was passed down with the responsibility of safeguarding the box. Of course, the film is set at the time when the timer reaches zero. Ember is in a state of severe deterioration, the city’s hydroelectric generator is failing, food and other supplies are desperately low. Naturally, the Mayor does what any greedy bastard would do: steal supplies and hoard them in a secret lair where he can retreat too while everyone else perishes.
Naturally, Mayor Cole reaches an end befitting his villainy. The city discovers his duplicity while the kid heroes make their escape, and Mayor Cole heads for his lair, locks out his faithful accomplice…only to get attacked by a giant mutant mole rat. Ho, hum.
Let me present a different scenario. The city is desperate. The generator is at the critical breaking point. The kid heroes have discovered the box and figured the way out, but the Mayor’s hollow promises and obtuse politicking have left them no choice but to strike out on their own. Yet not all the population is fooled; they know something terrible is happening. In the confusion and disorder of an increasingly panicked population, the Mayor is revealed for what he is: a coward who put his own welfare above the people he ostensibly served. Fearful, Mayor Cole makes a run for his secret lair. Eventually, the kids find their out and, with the adults perfectly capable of tracing their footsteps given the machines they activated on their way, the remainder of Ember’s population follows. The city then collapses. The underground river overflows, flooding the streets and underground tunnels that make up Ember’s infrastructure – including the tunnel leading to Mayor Cole’s lair. With no way out, but guaranteed a lifetime’s supply of food and air, the Mayor is essentially buried alive with no way out. Depending on how vicious you want to be, he could either be oblivious to the fact that Ember’s people escaped, or he could be fully aware and helpless to do anything about it.
Now that’s irony, and it would work especially well if the character were developed to be more than just a weak, cowardly man, but a man whose dedication to public service became eroded by cynical fatalism and debauched indifference.
27.10.08
quote of the week: alan greenspan
"I made a mistake in presuming that the self-interests of organizations, specifically banks and others, were such as that they were best capable of protecting their own shareholders and their equity in the firms."No shit, Sherlock.
-Former Federal Reserve Chairman Alan Greenspan
Here's a twist of the knife.
new film review: religulous
If I weren’t the proverbial tree falling in the forest, I could imagine getting comments about Religulous review akin to the waving fists big-timers get whenever they review a politically loaded film. Comments that would accuse me injecting my own personal views and not doing a straight-up review. After all, people don’t read reviews for politics or religion…they want to know about the movie. Right?
Well, no. While it’s important to judge a movie on its own merits, it’s also important to contextualize it. And critics inevitable contextualize a film by drawing on his/her own experiences and philosophies. There is nothing dishonest about this; dishonest is the critic who pretends to be somebody else. In fact, knowing something about a film critic’s ideological stance – and it needn’t be “ideological” per se – can help put the review itself in context. For example: an atheist (like me) reviewing Religulous will have a different take on the film than a Christian. Potential questions arise, such as: what does it mean if a Christian enjoys a film that is critical of religion? Or, what does it mean if an atheist doesn’t like a film promoting atheism? There’s more going on than simply supporting or rejecting a film simply on the basis of ideology, and that’s another example of honesty; just because a film has a message you like doesn’t mean it’s a good film. Differences in perspective, then, can only be good; they yield richer interpretations.
Well, no. While it’s important to judge a movie on its own merits, it’s also important to contextualize it. And critics inevitable contextualize a film by drawing on his/her own experiences and philosophies. There is nothing dishonest about this; dishonest is the critic who pretends to be somebody else. In fact, knowing something about a film critic’s ideological stance – and it needn’t be “ideological” per se – can help put the review itself in context. For example: an atheist (like me) reviewing Religulous will have a different take on the film than a Christian. Potential questions arise, such as: what does it mean if a Christian enjoys a film that is critical of religion? Or, what does it mean if an atheist doesn’t like a film promoting atheism? There’s more going on than simply supporting or rejecting a film simply on the basis of ideology, and that’s another example of honesty; just because a film has a message you like doesn’t mean it’s a good film. Differences in perspective, then, can only be good; they yield richer interpretations.
The man behind “Politically Incorrect” on Comedy Central and, currently, “Real Time” on HBO, launches a bold, sorely-needed broadside against religion. The result is typical Bill Maher; unapologetic, blunt, and (mostly) funny as hell. But for a film that, with an irreverent game of gotcha, points out the ridiculous in various religions’ beliefs, Maher’s cannonade isn’t so much aimed at creating cognitive dissonance in believers but to shake atheists from their timidity in the face of nonsense. Read the rest in Bill Maher Takes Aim at the Ridiculous in Religion.
22.10.08
portishead's third; thinking about music criticism
If art criticism could be defined as the art of objectifying a subjective experience – of filtering a visceral experience through rational evaluation – then music criticism has to be the black sheep of the criticism family. Resistant to the kind of analysis that can take apart a novel or film, music can obviously be judged on the technical side of music theory, but in the end boils down to the visceral, pre-rational experience. This aesthetic kind of criticism, limited only by the obvious requirement that musicians hit the right notes – is more of a genealogical, historical, comparative affair. Which explains why music reviews often read like a catalogue of analogies, snap judgments, and unsupported assertions. The film critic, at least, can point to a film’s technique (writing included) to justify why this or that aspect of the film works or doesn’t work. With music, however, once a certain proficiency threshold has been passed (and the bar isn’t necessarily that high), criticism yields to interpretation. At which point, the only thing to do is listen to an album and decide for yourself whether you like what you hear or not. Perhaps distinguishing between “criticism” and “review” is actually useful here.
I’ve only once done music reviews, for Morbid Outlook way back in August 2007. It was a fun experience and I’d do it again, but there’s something about reviewing music that feels like mere opiniating, like passing judgment without the net of reason beneath to catch the loose ends of the purely subjective. Music reviews are the equivalent of lazy film critics who settle for summarizing a film’s plot instead of dissecting the plot’s manifestation through cinematic technique. As an example, here’s Rob Sheffield’s review, at Rolling Stone mag, of Portishead’s long-awaited third album:
Can I do better? Unlikely. (Well, maybe a little?) Here’s my take on Third:
I’ve only once done music reviews, for Morbid Outlook way back in August 2007. It was a fun experience and I’d do it again, but there’s something about reviewing music that feels like mere opiniating, like passing judgment without the net of reason beneath to catch the loose ends of the purely subjective. Music reviews are the equivalent of lazy film critics who settle for summarizing a film’s plot instead of dissecting the plot’s manifestation through cinematic technique. As an example, here’s Rob Sheffield’s review, at Rolling Stone mag, of Portishead’s long-awaited third album:
It's been ten years since the world last heard from Portishead, the U.K. trip-hop trio, and they do not sound like they've spent the past decade going to therapy, listening to new music or making friends. Actually, they sound like they spent it locked in a tea cupboard underwater off the coast of Bristol, with a piped-in orchestral soundtrack from Dario Argento horror movies. Is this a problem?
No way — nobody ever listened to Portishead for their sparkling personalities or musical variety. What they're brilliant at is obsessively textured studio dread, and Third is an unexpected yet totally impressive return. Beth Gibbons still has her high-pitched trill ("Wounded and afraid/Inside my head," she sings in the opener, "Silence" — big surprise), but she's just another sound effect in the audio creep show of Geoff Barrow and Adrian Utley. "We Carry On" is a smashingly claustrophobic two-note electro riff, with heavy echoes of the Silver Apples' "Oscillations." In highlights like "The Rip," "Small" and "Machine Gun," Portishead mix up dub, break beats, cathedral organ, Moroccan drones and even surf rock into a headphone album for sour times.
Can I do better? Unlikely. (Well, maybe a little?) Here’s my take on Third:
Portishead’s eponymous second outing illustrated the hazard of achieving that holy grail of music, a distinctive sound: the hazard of getting stuck in an endlessly-repeating groove. But the album was solid in its own right, a masterful and necessary continuation of the scratchy, sample-laden, and tripped-out mourning vibe that made Dummy so singularly special and genuinely brilliant. And the concert album, Roseland NYC Live, proved that Portishead could work its way with different kinds of instrumentation, a quality of musicianship also revealed by their remixes and artist collaborations. Geoff Barrow and Adrian Utley, along with Beth Gibbons, are musicians, not monkeys acting out their training.
So Third presented the band with the challenge of being Portishead without being Portishead. Consummate musicians that they are, they meet the challenge head-on with a superlative album that comfortably fits the mood of a dimly-lit room. Veering away (more or less) from hip-hop and into electronic territories laced with industrial, Third is both reinvention and reassertion, possessed of the same introspective melancholy that gives Portishead’s music a gothic flavour, but juiced up by ever-unexpected rhythms, sonic booms, burrowing melodies, and aching lyrics. And, of course, there’s Gibbons – whose voice is often raw, but with a plaintive, breaking quality that is just right for songs of sorrow.
Typical of Portishead, Third is the kind of album that makes adjectives nervous. A hip-hop flavour there, a trace of Trent Reznor here, surreal soundscapes everywhere; this is an album from far out of left field. Just as the Portishead “sound” had long reached overexposure, Third comes along to shake up the music world’s complacency with an effort that evades crass commercialism and preserves the scrappy spirit of musicians developing their own voice in the wilderness.In all fairness, it is possible for music reviews to go beyond simple aesthetic reactions – see Brian Hiatt’s review of AC/DC’s latest. But I still have to ask: if somebody doesn’t like the way a piece of music sounds, can a music critic change that with a review?
20.10.08
new column: letter to a (potential) prop 8 nation
This week, I'm talking to those people who are considering voting for Prop 8:
I’ll be upfront. I am not a native son of California, and my arrival here was not the result of me waking up one morning, stuffed with visions of sun, surf and bikinis, and saying, “I’m packin’ up and movin’ to California, eh.” Nope; while I obviously made a conscious decision to move here, my coming to the Golden State, instead of another state, was largely the product of circumstance. Read the rest of Letter to a (Potential) Prop 8 Nation.Always Choose Love.
17.10.08
new film review: city of ember
The setting is extraordinary. An underground city a flicker away from total darkness, kept alight through thousands of streetlamps and suspended lights powered by a hydroelectric generator. Director Gil Kenan’s vision could be described, to coin a term, as grimepunk – steampunk’s proletarian sibling. Post-apocalyptic, decrepit, stylish in its lack of style, a focus on utility rather than prettiness, a patchwork aesthetic of grimy, rusty machinery barely maintained by a peasantry who know what the machines are for but not how they work. The city that gives the film, and the book on which it’s based, its name is like a low-tech, rudimentary analogue to Alex Proyas’ “Dark City.” Kenan gives Ember a claustrophobic, stagnant atmosphere, which is appropriate given that, as the prologue tells us, the confines of the city are all that generations of people have known throughout 200 years of isolation from an undescribed global disaster.Discover the chilling end to A Tale About a Mysterious Underground City That Could Have Been So Much Stronger. (Also at inkandashes.net, of course.)
word definition of the day: palindrone
Palindrone: n. A constant, annoying sound that occurs whenever Gov. Sarah Palin opens her mouth, and possessing the unique property of sounding exactly the same whether she speaks from the left side of her mouth or the right.
16.10.08
hey! morbid outlook has a writing contest going on!
Over at Morbid Outlook, Mistress McCutchan says:
We have DVD copies of The Undertaker and His Pals to give away, so I decided to run with that theme... We are seeking zany, creepy stories about food and/or cannibalism! Spill some guts and tell us a story that will make our skin crawl! Three winners will be chosen and have their work published in an upcoming issue of Morbid Outlook.
The absolute maximum word limit is 2000. The contest is open to our North American readers only. The deadline is Friday, November 7, 2008.
Email your entry here by pasting it into the body of your email or snail mail it to
Morbid Outlook Magazine
772 Dovercourt Road
P.O. Box 334
Toronto, ON M6H 4E3
Canada
15.10.08
capsule reviews: elizabethtown and atonement
Elizabethtown: Orlando Bloom and Kirsten Dunst are terrific in Cameron Crowe’s Elizabethtown and it’s good to see them both stretch beyond their blockbuster franchise roles. But their performances can’t keep the film from succumbing to an awww and shucks. Elizabethtown, with its comical situation and colourful characters – including Alec Baldwin as the CEO of a shoe company – comes across as a bit of wishful thinking that gratifies on paper but ultimately doesn’t ring authentic. The event that launches Drew Taylor’s (Bloom) downward spin stretches credibility: could a single shoe designer really be the one on which to hang the albatross of a $900 million corporate loss? And what about Dunst’s role as saving angel? It’s like a depressed person’s self-affirming daydream, in which all of life’s grittiness is polished away by a forced cheerfulness. Elizabethtown ultimately suffers from a case of contrivance, with each scene manufactured for effect instead of rooted in a genuine psychology.
Atonement: The only quality that makes Atonement a contender worthy of the august company of The Assassination of Jesse James, There Will Be Blood, and No Country for Old Men is Joe Wright’s phenomenal direction in partnership with Seamus McGarvey’s photography. (OKk, to be fair, the performances are beautiful tuned too. James McAvoy especially shows himself better than trash like Wanted.) That long take of soldiers miserably biding their time while awaiting evacuation from the beach of Dunkirk is a masterstroke of surreal, moody, visceral film work. And that’s just the most obvious bit of artistry in a film defined by beautiful imagery. But while the film starts off with a knock-out tragedy, the film devolves into a variation of “it-was-just-dream” that undercuts the drama of later scenes. A bratty, stupid, inappropriately imaginative young girl is reintroduced as an old woman who is more aware, perhaps, but also cowardly. Atonement teases with promising scenes of characters squeezed through the ringer, only to fall back on a gimmick that undoutbtedly worked better in the novel. Great visuals, great premise, a resolution that is the very picture of anti-climax.
Atonement: The only quality that makes Atonement a contender worthy of the august company of The Assassination of Jesse James, There Will Be Blood, and No Country for Old Men is Joe Wright’s phenomenal direction in partnership with Seamus McGarvey’s photography. (OKk, to be fair, the performances are beautiful tuned too. James McAvoy especially shows himself better than trash like Wanted.) That long take of soldiers miserably biding their time while awaiting evacuation from the beach of Dunkirk is a masterstroke of surreal, moody, visceral film work. And that’s just the most obvious bit of artistry in a film defined by beautiful imagery. But while the film starts off with a knock-out tragedy, the film devolves into a variation of “it-was-just-dream” that undercuts the drama of later scenes. A bratty, stupid, inappropriately imaginative young girl is reintroduced as an old woman who is more aware, perhaps, but also cowardly. Atonement teases with promising scenes of characters squeezed through the ringer, only to fall back on a gimmick that undoutbtedly worked better in the novel. Great visuals, great premise, a resolution that is the very picture of anti-climax.
14.10.08
new column: what is cool? hint: it's not the edison bar
I shy away from using my column as a grinding stone for axes...pettiness isn't an attractive trait in a columnist, or anyone else for that matter. But every so often, something galls my gizzard enough to make me want to write about it. The trick is tying it into a bigger picture. In this case, a ridiculous incident at the Edison ties into the bigger picture of sexist double-standards in fashion:
The first time I was mortally offended while going out, I was 10 (give or take). It was an upscale restaurant in Old Montreal, an establishment called Chez Queue that is amazingly still there, and I had ordered a dessert of strawberries and vanilla ice cream. Only, I didn’t like vanilla at the time. So I asked for chocolate ice cream instead. The waiter pulled a face, a disgusted face, as if I had ordered the strawberries with relish and hot sauce or something equally weird. I was outraged. My parents were far from impressed, and we never went back. Oh, I look back and laugh now. But the incident, and the sheer absurd insult of it all, is the defining memory I have of that place. And that is pretty much how I feel about a recent experience at the Edison bar. Read the rest of What is Cool? Hint: It's not the Edison Bar.As a postscript, it's worth mentioning that while wandering away from the Edison in search of drinks at a friendly venue, a fellow walking past me spontaneously complimented me on my sandals. Vindication!
11.10.08
new film reviews: nick and norah, five moments
Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist:
Also at inkandashes.net.
The first question that came to mind when watching the trailer for “Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist” was: why Nick and Norah? What possible relationship could the film – based on the book by Rachel Cohn – have to the classic “The Thin Man” book and six popular movies starring William Powell and Myrna Loy? After watching the movie, I still don’t know. Maybe it’s a reference to the pajama collection. Or maybe the book’s authors just liked the alliteration and the reference to those classic films is purely a pop-cultural by-product. Read the rest in It's No Song for the Thin Man, but Nick and Norah Do Have a Nice Playlist.Five Moments of Infidelity:
Stories about infidelity come with a certain amount of risk. It’s easy to get caught up in the melodrama of a person cheating on another, to dwell on the sexual and/or emotional betrayal in a way that renders the characters as caricatures drawn in black and white. Hard is resisting the impulse to moralize. Harder is presenting a nuanced psychology. Harder still is examining infidelity as it occurs in multiple sets of interconnected characters. Yet, writer/director Kate Gorman pulls it off. “Five Moments of Infidelity” is the “Crash” of frail human relationships, although where “Crash” gets it wrong and ends up a blunt, brutish thing that leaves one sullied and bruised, “Five Moments” is perceptive, humane, and fully capable of handling the synchronicity of its ensemble cast. It is remarkably organic, a quality manifested as much in script’s meticulous construction as in the liquid, almost dance-like camerawork that elevates “Five Moments” above similarly-budgeted indie films – although flat, characterless cinematography does the film no favours. Read the rest in Five Moments of Infidelity - A Film That's Faithful to the Aches of the Human Heart.
Also at inkandashes.net.
10.10.08
translating the news: palin's alaska report
From an AP report on Alaskan lawmakers meeting in secret to discuss a report on whether or not Gov. Palin abused her authority in the firing of her state public safety commissioner (who, in turn, was being pressured to fire a state Trooper involved in nasty divorce and custody battle with Gov. Palin's sister):
Some Republicans have questioned why the committee has insisted on finishing the investigation Friday, which they said was an arbitrary date meant to damage the McCain-Palin campaign with less than a month to go before Election Day.Translation: We don't care if she's guilty or not, and you won't either because after she's elected, there's fuck-all you can do about it. Except whine. Which is what liberals do. Neener-neener, you justice-loving liberal pansies.
The McCain campaign sought to pre-empt the potentially embarrassing report this week by releasing its own analysis, attributing Monegan's firing to a legitimate dispute over budget priorities and control over the department.Translation: We've investigated ourselves and can say with complete and pure objectivity that we are not guilty. Let's be clear: we did not have improper power trips with that public safety commissioner's job. Oh, and we [heart] Dick Cheney. I mean, we really [heart] the big lug. He can shoot us in the face any day. That's how much we [heart] him.
6.10.08
new column: sex and the GOP
Suppose a politician proposed the following:Read the rest of Sex and the GOP...
Provide economics education to children in the K-12 grades, using age-appropriate and fiscally accurate information, including information on how to stop the transmission of Ponzi schemes, prevent fraud, and detect con artists.
Not very objectionable, right? Now replace the word “economics” with sex:
Provide sex education to children in the K-12 grades, using age-appropriate and fiscally accurate information, including information on how to prevent sexually transmitted diseases and HIV/AIDS.
Has anything changed?
where has all the romance of space travel gone?
When I was a kid, I fully expected the new millenium to bring with it the next giant leap for humankind: Mars. Yet as the Powers That Be and their enablers, the voting public, have become lost in dangerous philosophical immaturity and the geopolitics of war corporatism. We know we should be up there – on a moon base, for starters – pushing science forwards and living up to the famous Star Trek mantra, yet except for the excitement of Mars landers, we are still very much Earth-bound. Have we lost our ambition? Or is just that it’s hard to get worked up about exploring space when we can’t pay the bills? It’s a fair point – but what sort of age would we live in if we had a trip to Mars to inspire us, if we fully embraced our scientific challenges? Green technology, space travel; this is the stuff international cooperation and goodwill is made of. This is stuff of human evolution.
It’s disappointing to read about the US reliance on the Soviet space program in the gap between the shuttle’s retirement (2010) and replacement (2015). Not for the political reasons involving our tense relationship with Putin, or because it would damage US pride for the Chinese to reach the moon before we do, but because the romance of space exploration seems little more than a quaint dose of nostalgia easily taken for granted.
It’s disappointing to read about the US reliance on the Soviet space program in the gap between the shuttle’s retirement (2010) and replacement (2015). Not for the political reasons involving our tense relationship with Putin, or because it would damage US pride for the Chinese to reach the moon before we do, but because the romance of space exploration seems little more than a quaint dose of nostalgia easily taken for granted.
3.10.08
new film review: appaloosa
A Tale of Love and Bullets - Viggo Mortensen and Ed Harris didn’t share nearly enough screen time in David Cronenberg’s comic book treatise A History of Violence. But along comes Appaloosa, a classical Western rooted in a mature formulation of the buddy movie, to show just how comfortably these two pros fit together. As two friends and partners in the peacekeeping-for-hire business, Mortensen and Harris (who co-wrote the screenplay and directed) bring a wordless chemistry into the surgically-precise dialogue. Read the rest...Of course, there's always ink [and] ashes.
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