It’s Complicated: “The Big Chill”

Sorry for the delayed post. I was going to post this review yesterday, but I got tied up doing some work for an Obie alum film, Ivory. I won’t reveal exactly what I’ve been doing for them yet–I can’t very well tell you all on my blog before I tell my parents the exciting news, now can I?–but I will in my next post! It’s very exciting!

In any case, I was originally going to review 21 Grams, but I got about thirty minutes into the movie, and decided I’d much rather review something I enjoy. So I decided on The Big Chill.

To say Lawrence Kasdan’s The Big Chill is your typical ‘80’s film about friendship would be wholly incorrect. Sure, it was released in 1983, and it is about a group of old Michigan college friends, but the film is done in such a way that it makes the concept of friendship, both new and enduring, in and of itself interesting.

The film opens with each of seven old college friends receiving a phone call to inform them that one of their old college buddies, Alex, has committed suicide. But what makes the opening sequence so spectacular—and how you know it’s just going to be a fantastic film—is the way in which each call reveals something about the characters; and the way in which Kasdan precedes each call with some aspect of dressing Alex’s corpse drives home just how important these friends are to each other, and how deeply Alex’s death has affected them. You never actually see Alex’s face, but it doesn’t matter. The point is not who Alex was as an individual; it is who he was to each of the characters that is important.

The friends reunite at the South Carolina home of their now-wealthy friends, Sarah and Harold Cooper, played respectively by Glenn Close and Kevin Kline. Joining them is Alex’s girlfriend of four months, Chloe, played by the apparently incredibly flexible Meg Tilly.

(No, seriously. She’s like a freaking ballerina.)

One thing leads to another, and the old college crowd plus Chloe end up staying at the Coopers’ place for the weekend. And when old friends who haven’t seen each other in years get together, let’s just say things are bound to get interesting.

To sum up the basics:
1) Meg Jones, played by Mary Kay Place, is a self-described “ticking biological clock,” and wants a baby before it’s too late. And since she’s amongst her best friends, Meg figures, “Why not?” and proceeds to try to get one of her male friends to impregnate her. Slightly strange? Yeah. But not as weird (and minorly awkward) as what eventually does end up happening on that front. I’ll just leave it at that.

2) Harold gives some insider information about his prospering company to Nick Carlton, a drug addict and dealer, played by William Hurt, in order to try to get him to turn his life around. As it turns out, though, Nick has a few more problems than just drugs. Has he ever told you what happened to him in Vietnam?

3) If you thought there was a lot of sexual tension between Tom Berenger’s corny ‘80’s detective show star Sam Weber, and JoBeth Williams’ housewife and ex-writer Karen Bowens in the beginning of the movie, just you wait. The tension between them grows exponentially throughout the movie, and the way in which they interact with each other is markedly different than the ways in which the other friends interact. Sam and Karen are clearly more than just friends; and before the first half-hour is over, you want to scream at them to stop running around each other, and just get the deed over and done with already (for chrissake!).

4) Chloe is cute, and a bit of an oddball: Her reason for wanting to ride in the limousine at Alex’s funeral is not because she was his girlfriend, but because she’s never ridden in a limo before. But her strangeness—as well as the fact that she answers the door in her underwear—only adds to her cuteness. As a result, Nick and Michael, played by Jeff Goldblum, not-so-subtly vie for her attention. But while Michael has all the suave, playboy charm his job as a journalist at People magazine has afforded him, Nick has the advantage of knowing how to mix his drugs. You’ll understand when you see the movie.

So yeah. It’s complicated.

Fortunately, complicated relationships and fun movies are not mutually exclusive. It would not be a stretch to say that the film welcomes you into the somewhat crazy, but incredibly warm, world of the characters and their relationships. By the end of the movie, you, like the characters, wish the weekend hadn’t ended so quickly.

(There’s a reason I watched this movie twice in the span of two days.)

But the end of the movie isn’t really an ending. It’s a new beginning for the characters, not only for them as individuals, but as a group of friends. When they say they’ll all keep in touch and write to each other, you believe them; you can sense that it’s not just a throwaway, empty promise. The characters treat each other with such a sense of natural ease and innate love that it’s hard to believe they’d even lost touch in the first place!

Of course, good acting helps on that front. I don’t need to say it, but I will, anyway: The acting is spectacular. Each actor has his or her character down to a ‘T,’ and the way in which the actors deliver their lines is completely natural, as if they were simply speaking unscripted. Not only that, but they all seem so familiar with each other, that it’s hard to believe they’re not close friends off-screen, too. To be quite frank, you would be hard-pressed to find another cast that emanates such a strong feeling of kinship.

Last, but certainly not least, the soundtrack is the best of ‘80’s Mowtown. Among the songs are classics like Marvin Gaye’s “Heard It Through The Grapevine,” and Aretha Franklin’s “Natural Woman.” So unless you’re a cold fish, the tunes will almost certainly have you tapping your toes, if not dancing around the kitchen like the characters do at one point in the movie.

In short, in order not to like this movie, you’d have to be really, really boring.

Or dead.

One of the two.

Ever yours,

Film Bitch


Do you have a strong drink on hand?

Well, I have some bad news, kids. Several pieces of bad news, actually. But, then again, what news is ever reported today that’s not bad?

The pullout method

Do you all remember way back when we had an incompetent fool and his incredibly sadistic underling in the White House? I do.

They started this thing called, “The Afghanistan War,” in 2001, as part of Operation Enduring Freedom, in response to the attacks on September 11. Like the Iraq War, Bush and company promised it would be over within a few months.

Ha! Right.

Instead, the violence has dragged on for almost nine long years. And Obama hasn’t helped.

In February of last year, Obama promised to have most of the troops out of Iraq by 2010; however, he also added that approximately 17,000 more troops would be deployed to Afghanistan, and never revealed how many troops who had just been withdrawn from Iraq would simply be redeployed to Afghanistan.

(Defeats the purpose a bit, don’t you think?)

In any case, the latest from the front is that a certain operation called “The Kandahar Operation,” which focuses on turning the locals against the reigning Taliban government, will take longer than expected—which also means that more troops will be deployed, and fewer will be able to go home. Of course, the military leaders of the operation hasten to make it seem as though everything will be all right. In this Huffington Post article, General McChrystal said that, though the “operation to secure the Kandahar region will unfold more slowly and last longer than the military had planned,” he nevertheless remains confident that the military will make progress, and that “he can still demonstrate a turnaround…by the year’s end.”

Somehow, I tend to doubt this. Not only is the war presently in a stalemate of sorts, but the fact that yet more troops are set to be deployed—by October 2011, an estimated 300,000 US troops are expected to occupy the region—means that, even if the operation succeeds, this does not signal a “turnaround” in the war. To me, a “turnaround” implies uphill progress, i.e. getting our troops the hell out of there as quickly and safely as possible, while at the same time ensuring the well-being of and not further screwing over the people whose region we decided it would be a good idea to invade. But more troops and a longer-than-expected operation are not portents of good things to come.

Currently, the casualties of Operation Enduring Freedom number 1,079 US troops.

I only wonder how many more will go now.

Start panicking!

(And if any of you got that movie quote, then I sincerely love you.)

So remember how I was talking about how the Democrats need to pull themselves together, lest we lose all our civil liberties in one fell swoop? I wasn’t kidding.

Harry Reid, the current Senate majority leader, is facing a scary opponent: Sharron Angle, who, says Jennifer Steinhauer in this New York Times article, is “a largely unknown former state lawmaker with 10 grandchildren, whose fondness for weightlifting and her .44 Magnum won the ardor of the Republican Party base.”

While I certainly don’t want any of the little creatures my ownself, and also enjoy weight lifting, the rest of that sentence leaves my heart pounding in dread. Okay, maybe it’s not that bad, but it’s pretty close.

The thing about Ms. Angle is that she, like George Bush Jr. before her, presents herself as a family woman, with nothing but the people’s best interests at heart. In addition to the not-so-subtle loving, matriarchal connotations that come with having ten grandkids, she also conducts most of her campaign from a cozy living room in her Reno, NV home.

Though the voter numbers tend to work in Reid’s favor on paper—579,750 registered Democrats versus the 468,245 registered Republicans—this does not necessarily mean the polls will produce a favorable outcome for Reid. As you may recall, Nevada was one of the states to give Obama an unexpected and major victory back in 2008. Thus, the electorate is clearly anything but predictable—and after the series of flubs Obama and the Democrats have been making, it wouldn’t be surprising if Angle did indeed win the race.

As if it weren’t bad enough that she’s a rather conservative Republicans, it just so happens that she, like Sarah Palin, is a Tea Party darling. For those of you who don’t know, the Tea Party largely consists of ultra-conservative nutjobs hell-bent on taking down our current government. So having one in power, in place of a more mentally stable, though face of an admittedly fumbling party, is like trading in the demon you know for the devil you don’t.

Furthermore, it has been discovered that Angle is a supporter of a rather controversial Scientology rehabilitation program.

(Yeah. I mean that Tom-Cruise-and-Xenu shit.)

The program, called “Second Chance,” is a “detoxification” program for prison inmates addicted to drugs. The program is the prison version of the we’re-not-affliated-with-Scientology-at-all-nudge-nudge-wink-wink Narconon program. The Lost Angeles Times did a long piece examining the connections between Scientology and the Second Chance program, which goes into more detail about the program and its initiatives. But if you want to keep your crazy quota to a minimum today, here are the basics of the aforementioned “detoxification”: The process involves pumping participants full of various vitamins while at the same time exposing them to the literature and other assorted materials of Scientology. Oh, and they have to sit in a sauna, too.

I wish I were kidding.

The most recent numbers from the polls show Angle as having an eleven-point lead over Reid. If I believed in God, I think I would be praying right now.

I’ll close with two shorties for today:

Misplaced bodies and oily predicaments

Turns out over two hundred bodies in Arlington Cemetary have been misidentified or placed in the wrong graves.

The two men being held accountable are Arlington Cemetary’s top managers, Superintendent John Metzler and Deputy Thurman Higgenbotham, both of whom have, for all intents and purposes, lost their jobs as a result of the mistake, which was discovered after a call for an investigation into Arlington Cemetary management issues last November.

At the last count, two hundred and eleven graves had been mismarked, two of which were located in the section reserved for troops who had died in Iraq or Afghanistan.

(This calls for a classic *facepalm*.)

It was recently discovered that the BP gusher has been spewing anywhere from 25,000 to 30,000 barrels of oil per day, far above the original estimate. This means there’s more oil that has yet to be cleaned up, and that efforts to clean up the mess are much further behind than anticipated. Not only that, but it means that BP and the government are going to have to severely alter the way they’ve been approaching this, and treat this as a disaster, not just as a very bad spill. They will need to bring in more equipment, collection vessels and crew to do this.

However, in a slightly strange way, I am kind of glad: Because there is more oil leaking into the Gulf, BP will have to pay higher fines.

Have a lovely day!

Film Bitch, over and out.

P.S. There are some technical difficulties with the hyperlinks, apparently. For some reason, WordPress has added an extra quotation mark to the end of each of my tags, which results in a “Page Not Found” or other 404 warning. However, when I try to correct the mistake, it takes away the hyperlink altogether. For now, if you click on a link, just delete the extra quotation mark that appears in the search bar, and you should get to the page. I’ll try to work out the kinks before the next post.

It’s a process!

Published in: on June 10, 2010 at 9:32 pm  Leave a Comment  
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The Mystery of the Penis: Robert Benton’s “Twilight”

You know a mystery movie’s going to be bad when the most interesting mystery is whether or not a man still has a penis.

It’s a shame really.  Robert Benton’s 1998 Twilight uses a cast that should, in theory, make for an amazing movie.  Susan Sarandon, Paul Newman and Gene Hackman hold the title roles; Liev Schreiber and Reese Witherspoon even hold lesser roles in the film.  But the actual movie itself is dull, dull, dull.

Newman plays Harry Ross, a washed-up ex-cop, who, two years prior to the main action of the film, had been hired to find actors Jack and Catherine Ames’ brat of a seventeen-year-old, Mel, played by Witherspoon, who has run off to Puerto Vallarta, Mexico with her boyfriend, Jeff, played by the somewhat shady-looking Shreiber.  In a somewhat sketchy move, Ross patiently sits unnoticed in the hotel room as Mel and Jeff have sex, and promptly forces Mel to pack her things when Jeff steps into the shower.  This, of course, does not sit well with Jeff.  Cue obligatory struggle by poolside.  Girl grabs gun.  Gun goes off.  Bullet ricochets and ostensibly hits Ross in the family jewels.  Whoops.

Flash forward two years.  Mel is still a spoiled little wench, and Ross is now living in the Ames Los Angeles household, acting as the household’s upaid, live-in servant.  Both Catherine and Jack Ames, played by Sarandon and Hackman respectively, have grown to treat Ross as an almost-but-not-quite family member.  I probably don’t even need to say it, but there is tangible sexual tension between Ross and Catherine—but I guess when a good-looking woman parades around naked in front of a man, it’s kind of hard not to feel something.

Though he jokes about Ross having feelings for Catherine, Jack has no real suspicions.  In fact, he regards Ross as one of his closest friends.  So when he asks Ross to deliver a note and a package to a woman named Gloria Lamar, Ross readily obliges.  When Ross asks if he needs a gun—he doesn’t carry one anymore, for obvious reasons—Jack assures him he does not.

As Ross realizes, it’s when your boss tells you that you don’t need a gun that you really do.

Instead of Gloria Lamar, Ross finds a bleeding, dying ex-cop named Lester Ivar, who decides it would be a good idea to use what little strength he has left to chase Ross around with—you guessed it—a gun.

Fortunately for Ross, Ivar eventually kicks it.  Unfortunately for Ross, the cops can place him at the scene of the crime.  However, Ross, being an ex-LA cop, has friends in high places, who know he didn’t do it.  One of these friends is Stockard Channing’s Lieutenant Verna Hollander, the smoldering temptress of the LA police department.  That is, if you consider a woman wearing brown suits with shoulder pads, and sporting a bad dye job “smoldering temptress” material.  But I suppose there’s no accounting for taste; and if you’re in danger of keeling over any second, like Ross and his bordering-on-lecherous old buddy Raymond Hope, played by James Garner, then you take what you can get.

In any case, all of this culminates in the revelation that Catherine had formerly been married to another actor, who supposedly committed suicide twenty-some years previous—but the body had never been found.


After her husband’s convenient death, Catherine immediately married Jack, which made Ivar, the officer working the case, suspicious.  Indeed, Catherine’s swift marriage in conjunction with her husband’s death/disappearance probably should have raised more than just Ivar’s eyebrows.  But that clearly wasn’t the case, and Ivar was left all by his lonesome to puzzle it out for twenty years.

(I’ve got to say, the way the police treat this case reminds me much of the way Winston Churchill treated vermouth when making a martini: Pour three ounces of ice-cold gin into a glass, cast a sidelong glance at the vermouth, and drink your martini.  Case closed.  If you’re looking for a realistic cop movie, this isn’t it.)

What follows is a tiresome hunt for the truth, with a brief interlude of less-than-titillating sexual grappling.  I’ll spare you the boring details, suffice to say it’s pretty damn obvious what happened—it just takes an excruciating hour and a half for Ross to figure out what you probably realized within the first forty-five minutes.

The acting is kind of … meh.  No one really impressed me all that much.  In fact, it seemed as though all the actors were doing was drawing on extant aspects of their own personalities at the time the film was made, and didn’t put any special effort into the creation of the film.  I wish I could say that someone stood out, but then I’d be lying to you.  The actors’ physicality wasn’t too bad, but, with the exception of the way in which Sarandon’s Catherine holds her cigarettes and uses them as subtle sexual advances, nothing really stuck out.  In short, this film could easily have used B-grade actors, and still achieved the same effect: Tedium.

Because the movie takes place in 1997, the costumes are appropriately 90’s-chic, by which I mean oh-God-what-the-hell-are-you-wearing!?  Sarandon’s rather loose clothes were tastefully understated, but certainly weren’t flattering by any means; and much as I desperately wished Channing would stop wearing those wretched suits, she continued to sport the latest in Klingon wear.  The rest of the cast’s outfits blurred into a series of monotonous, varying shades of greys, browns and blues—appropriate, given the overall feel of the movie and its characters: A boring plotline chock-full of washed-up, jaded, old folks.

(Oh, and for the record:
He’s got a penis.)


Film Bitch

A brief introduction and a bitchy news roundup

Hello, and welcome to Film Bitch! I’m not going to go into any lengthy introductions—after all, you’re not here to read about me. You’re here to read my film reviews and/or news commentary.

(And if you’re not here to read either, then you’re kind of out of luck. But I think porn’s in that direction.)

Anyway, long story short, I’m a college student who loves ripping movies to shreds and telling people exactly what she thinks about … well, everything, actually. My dream job is to be a journalist, or a radio or television reporter; as such, I’ve been working for my school paper since 2008, and co-hosted a talk news radio show with a friend this past semester (something I’m hoping to do again this coming semester!).

Since I don’t have an internship this summer, I’ll be working for my college’s dining service. Ideal? Perhaps not, but I do get free room and board, and I get paid, to boot. Not a bad deal, eh?

(Much thanks to the college’s staff who made that possible for me, by the way!)

But, of course, I do want something career-related to put on my resume, and I thought a film and news blog would be a nice amalgamation of my work for the school’s paper—I did the film column for the Arts section, and wrote articles and features for the News section—and my radio show.

So here she is, folks. Plain. Simple. Bitchy.

Let’s rock.

Weapons, drugs and intrigue, oh my!

For those of you who don’t know, the world has recently been having some problems with Iran . The long and the short of it is that Iran is allegedly conducting several covert nuclear weapons programs, which, of course it denies (at best, it slaps the denied programs with the term “nuclear energy.” Right.). Unfortunately for Iran’s image and credibility, it also refuses to allow the International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA) to follow up on said suspicions, making Iran’s nuclear energy program look even more suspicious.

As of a New York Times report released yesterday, things just became more complicated—and more dangerous. In 2008, The United States blacklisted the entirety of The Islamic Republic of Iran Shipping Lines (IRISL) and its associated ships in order to keep IRISL from trafficking weapons, nuclear or otherwise. However, as the NYT report states, it has recently been discovered that IRISL has been renaming ships that had been blacklisted with innocuous-sounding names, such as Bluebell or Angel . It has also transferred ownership of many of its ships to other companies that, on paper, have no connection with IRISL, and are not currently blacklisted.

But—and I’m sure you saw this coming—the reality is different. Many of the new owners and managers of the renamed ships are actually IRISL officials. Is the deception thinly veiled? Yes. But is it effective? Absolutely. With such a network of “shell companies,” IRISL has been able to carry out its dubious shipping operations—and not just ones involving nuclear weapons.

According to a short article on The Globalist , Is Iran Spreading Its Wings in Latin America? , IRISL also transports drugs to and from South America, namely Venezuela. Somewhat like the “shell companies” set up for IRISL’s ships, Iran itself owns various factories in Venezuela that ostensibly carry out innocent industry: A cement plant in Aragua, a bicycle factory in Cojedas, and a tractor factory in Bolivar State, to name a few. These seemingly-benign industries are a cover for heavy drug trafficking, in which IRISL ships are involved. For example, some of its tuna ships transport cocaine by storing the cocaine below-decks, while large stocks of tuna inhabit the top decks, the smell of the tuna masking the smell of cocaine below.

But—and here you will allow me to bastardize a quote from Clue —at the end of the day, drugs were just a red herring.

Location, location, location—turns out it’s not only important when buying a house, but also when deciding whom to aid in the shipping of illegal substances. Because of its involvement in Venezuelan drug trafficking, the Islamic Republic, to which Iran belongs, has managed to get its hands on a gold mine in Bolivar State. Though gold is all well and good, the mine also happens to be a rich source of uranium, which it actively produces alongside the gold. Because the Venezuelan government controls all ports for import and export, it is hard to tell what is going where, as the government only releases certain amounts of information; and, since the various factories Iran owns do help the already-shoddy Venezuelan economy, it would be unlikely that the government would want to tattle on Iran, and upset a source of valuable income. Thus, it is more than likely that the uranium is currently going to Iran’s “nuclear energy” programs that it won’t allow the IAEA to look into.

The United Nations will shortly be voting on a fresh set of sanctions on Iran’s nuclear energy program. However, as stated in this Reuters article , Vladimir Putin does not believe the sanctions should be “excessive,” or “put Iran’s leadership, the Iranian people in a tricky situation that creates barriers on the way of development of Iran’s peaceful nuclear energy.”

(As a side note, Russia also has claims in South America, and is providing what is termed as “technical assistance” to Venezuela alongside Iran. I’m certainly not trying to find the seeds of another Cold War where there aren’t any, but I do think that comes across as a bit shady.)

So I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what happens. It’s certain new sanctions will be imposed (though I’m not entirely sure what they will be. If any of you know, please, leave a comment!). What is not certain is how Iran will react.

In the drink

Unless you’ve been living under a rock for the past few weeks, you know that a major oil spill occurred in the Gulf of Mexico on April 20, 2010. The initial accident involved an underwater oil well rupture, which caused an explosion on the drilling platform above the water. The explosion killed eleven rig workers, and has left thousands of gallons of oil spilling into the Gulf of Mexico daily. But, oil being liquid, it hasn’t just stayed in the Gulf of Mexico. Since the spill, the oil has been dispersed along the southern coast of the United States, specifically the Louisiana coastline and northwestern part of Florida, and, as of the most recent update on the New York Times ’ interactive spill map , looks to be traveling even further south. As if it needed to get any worse, the spill is said to eclipse the Exxon-Valdez disaster of 1989, which is no mean feat.

Needless to say, this is bad news, kids.

BP, the oil company responsible for the spill, has been scrambling to try to get the leak closed up. However, every attempt has either failed or will potentially make the spill worse . The newest strategy involves a tanker collecting the oil captured below the surface. Unfortunately, more oil is being captured than the tanker can hold (which, of course begs the question: Why doesn’t BP just bring in another taker?). This is not surprising, as the estimates for the amount of oil pumping into the surrounding waters range anywhere from BP’s modest estimate of 5,000 barrels per day (announced April 28) to what I like to call BP’s “oh shit” scenario of 60,000 barrels per day (announced May 8).

Either way you look at it, that’s a lot of oil. And that doesn’t bode well for the wildlife in the area, as evidenced by the numerous photographs of oil-covered wildlife that have been popping up in the last two weeks as oil has moved towards the continent. As of the New York TimesDay 47: The Latest on the Oil Spill , 820 birds, 33 dolphins and other mammals, and 289 sea turtles have been collected, all covered in a thick layer of oil.

The most recent news on the spill is no better: Bacteria in the water have been “consuming oil-related compounds at a furious rate,” says this article from The New York Times . Though the bacteria are not yet taking in these compounds at a rate that could deplete the water’s oxygen content severely enough to suffocate marine life, I’d be willing to bet that if this leak isn’t closed up soon, they could. I don’t even want to think about how many endangered species’ extinction are being accelerated because of this.

The only good to come of this—and I have heard the same from many people—is that Obama can now no longer go ahead with his plan to drill for more oil , a plan he’d announced a few weeks before the BP spill occurred. It’s just a shame that it took a disaster like this to make him realize how wrong that decision would have been.

(And, as a side note, is yet another reason why I have become swiftly disenchanted with him. But that’s a rant for another time.)

Why the Democrats need to get their shit together

The primaries are upon us, the outcome of which is critical in shaping the future of the United States. And, sadly, a 14-week battle has raged between Arkansas Senator Blanche Lincoln and Lieutenant Governor Bill Halter, both Democrats, in the race for the Arkansas Senate seat.

Now, as a liberal-minded person myself—and, please, if you’re about to jump down my throat and accuse me of using the word ‘liberal’ too, well, liberally, spare me; I know there are different grades of ‘liberal,’ thanks—I tend to support the Democrats, because they are usually the least crazy of the two majority parties in the United States. However, infighting doesn’t sit well with me, especially after the many flubs the Democratic party and Obama have made over the past year, all within weeks of each other. This seems to be yet another black mark on the very long road of mishaps the Democrats have been paving. Not only has the race between Lincoln and Halter been nasty and just downright dirty—see a couple attack ads here and here —but, according to this article on The Huffington Post , it never even got off on a friendly foot.

What’s that old maxim? Something about a house divided, I think. This should go without saying, but this doesn’t just reflect poorly on Lincoln and Halter. Their piss-fight has tarnished the already-dulled reputation of the Democratic party. Of course, conservatives are jumping for joy at this. Any excuse to get those God-forsaken liberals out of positions of power, right? Let’s bring in the big guns boys! We got ourselves a fat turkey over yonder.

If this keeps up, we’re going to be in serious trouble come election day, especially now that Obama has nominated a relatively conservative woman, Elena Kagan, to replace John Paul Stevens as a Supreme Court Justice. Yes, she calls herself a Democrat, but in reality, she tends towards the right, subscribing to dubious practices such as wiretapping—which, may I point out, Obama condemned Bush for—and supporting the law against same-sex marriage.

Hear that sound? That’s the sound of a lot of our civil liberties being flushed down the toilet. Kagan, Obama and the infighting Democrats are holding down the handle.

I think that’s enough in terms of news for today, especially since it’s my first post. I’m still figuring out all the tags and whatnot anyway.

Stay tuned for my first film review! I’m reviewing a 1998 film called Twilight —fear not, it bears no relation to that sparkly Stefanie Meyer shit—which, though it uses an amazing cast, is actually rather boring. But I will save the vicious dissection for later.

Ever yours,

Film Bitch

Published in: on June 8, 2010 at 9:40 pm  Comments (3)  
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