Frédérik Sisa

The genesis of my nickname for this year’s election began with the media’s “Decision ’08,” parodied on the Daily Show as “Indecision ‘08,” and filtered through the sick feeling I have in my stomach to become “Indigestion ’08.” Yes, it’s a super-critical election, with a lot at stake. But when even Karl Rove thinks (http://www.crooksandliars.com/) that “McCain has gone in some of his ads similarly gone one step too far in sort of attributing to Obama things that are, you know…beyond, beyond, beyond the, the 100% truth test,” it’s no surprise that nausea at this absurdly brutal election campaign has been the norm.

I suppose one could read into “Burn After Reading” a commentary on the quality and nature of intelligence gathering in the U.S. “war on terror.” Or, to wax philosophical, one could see in the film a cinematic, almost existential, musing on how humanity is adrift in a universe without any real knowledge or – eek! – truth. But my feeling is that the attempt to extract any kind of metaphysical significance ultimately strains the film to give more than it actually can, and not just because it’s a featherweight in comparison to the Coen Brothers’ previous film, the oppressive and heavy “No Country for Old Men.” There’s simply no real ambiguity, in either the characters or the slightly convoluted plot, on which to hang allegorical interpretations, and the film’s end drives the whole point home bluntly, if it isn’t already obvious beforehand.

How swanky is the rejuvenated Mark Taper Forum? Let’s put it this way: The urinals in the men’s toilet (of all things) aren’t stainless steel or the usual boring white ceramic, but black. That’s right, black. In a lithe and sexy designer environment – think retro sci-fi lounge chic with a touch of glam – it’s the kind of small touch that acts like sequins on a little black dress. But the curious side-effect of the Forum’s year-long remodeling effort is as much a highlight of the (original) Forum’s architectural shortcomings as a glossing over. While the iconic exterior, with its defining circularity and cement mural by Jacques Overhoff, has been preserved, the interior suffers from flow control issues stemming from the crowding of circulation spaces on the edge of the Forum by the central theatre space.

While the GOP pats itself on the back for trotting out a young unknown to neutralize the Democrats’ own young-but-no-longer-unknown, the young unknown from Alaska firmly established her credentials to be McCain’s running mate: ignorance about Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac, the willingness to let the State pay her a per diem allowance for working at home (while she and her husband have six-figure salaries) It’s an appropriate match between a woman whose appeal to social regressives masks questionable fiscal knowledge and the man who openly admitted to being ignorant of economics. And it’s not surprising, either: ignorance and Republican economics go together like flies and…rotten fruit. At the heart of it all, of course, is the GOP’s greatest phobia: the fear of – brace yourself – “wealth redistribution.” Siding with the Sheriff of Nottingham against the “villainous” Robin Hood, Republicans fear, above all, that Democrats will just take money from the rich and give it to everyone else.

In terms of contemporary identity politics, feminism gets sold out, tarted up and sugar-coated for mass consumption. Entrenched in the assembly line plot of black swan “losers” confronting big meanies to save their sorority home – and naturally becoming transformed in the process – “The House Bunny” offers a watered-down girl power message that boils down to praising smarts, but only when packaged in supermodel hotness. This is the conformity of fashion magazines and pop culture: it’s okay to be yourself…provided that you look good doing it and do it for boys too stupid and shallow, but ruggedly handsome, to appreciate women of substance.

In the ultimate act of civil disobedience, six dead soldiers refuse to be buried, defying both their generals’ orders and the heartbroken entreaties of their wives, girlfriends, and mothers. A first reading of Bury the Dead would see this disturbance of the natural order as an anti-war screed, which on one level it is.

Dear Friends:

Gay marriage is legal in California, thanks to a recent California Supreme Court ruling.

But it might not be for long.

The Forces of Intolerance have gathered to place a measure on the November ballot – Prop. 8. Their goal: To deny gays and lesbians the right to marry the person they love. Their method: amend California’s constitution to define marriage as being solely the union between a man and a woman.

As far as I know, Roger Ebert hasn’t beaten me to the punch, so let me introduce the modestly named “Frederik’s Law”: The ability to write up a lengthy film critique/review is inversely proportional to the sum of that film’s entertainment value and technical quality.

Morality often consists of telling other people not to do something you don’t like. Don’t approve of what a person is wearing? Ban it. Offended by nekkid people? Make clothes mandatory...but only the clothes you approve of. Someone not having sex in the missionary position? Call them pervy and shame them. Wait…someone’s having sex? By George (yes, that one), it’s time to call on the government to intervene.

The B-movie doesn’t get much respect these days, although movie-going audiences seem far more willing to surrender to their charm than surly film critics. This latest installment in “The Mummy” series – “franchise” seems like such a horrible word – is a good example. With an aggregate score of 10 percent at rottentomatoes.com, critics clearly aren’t digging it. At yahoo, the average critics’ score is a C-. Tellingly, the average yahoo user score is B-.