My Views on today's film industry

     Anger is a beautiful thing.  It can be graceful and red as a ruby, the sort that propels forward the femme fatale.  It can be blacker and quieter than night, harboring an all-consuming grudge.  It can be as wild an violent as a tropical storm, but it is never the same.  No two people will ever feel the same anger.  
    So, that was kind of an unnecessarily dramatic intro for this entry, which, like my previous two, is basically my way of vomiting my thoughts and teenage angst all over the world wide web.  Sorry about the visual.  But I digress.
    Like pretty much every single human being-not just teenagers, but them especially-I get angry a lot.  I was angry when America lost to Poland in the 2012 Men's Volleyball FIVB World Championships.  I was furious when I stepped on my brooch ( the one-of-a-kind brooch I bought from the Escondido Renfaire) and snapped the clasp straight off.  But I get absolutely, positively out-of-my-mind, foaming-at-the-mouth rabid when Hollywood sinks its dirty little claws into certain classics and butchers them until they are near unrecognizable to us purists...más o menos. Now, don't get me wrong...old Hollywood up until the late 90s was great.  But now I personally feel that the movies now are so superficial, so pointless.  The Age of Louise Brooks up until the Age of Leonardo di Caprio featured films that made a statement (obviously there are exceptions).  They were art, not just bloody and/or sexual forms of entertainment.  It seems as if almost everything that comes out today only reflects the mindless consumerism of this generation.  Indeed, I shudder to think what the Founding Fathers of America would think if they could see the spawn of the great nation they created.
    Another thing that makes me bloody agitated is the BLATANT historical inaccuracies.  There are mistakes, and such thing as creative license, I suppose.  An example would be The Thirteenth Warrior, with Antonio Banderas and Vladimir Kulich. It's a viking epic modeled after Michael Crichton's novel, Eaters of the Dead (which was likewise modeled after Beowulf).  Anywhoodles, my point is that the vikings wear non-period specific armor, and the legend of Ahmed ibn Fadlan was a hoax.  Yet that was for the sake of the film.  In stark, STARK contrast is the 2013 film The Great Gatsby.  I loved the book and I adore F. Scott Fitzgerald.  So naturally I was PISSED when I saw the movie trailer.  Maybe I'm overreacting, but what the hell is up with the soundtrack? Was that Jay-Z? I'm planning on going to see this movie so that I can post a more accurate statement about this whole business, but for now...Where are the great voices of the 20s? Rudy Vallee? Nat Shilkret? George Olsen? Arden and Ohman?
    For heaven's sake, Hollywood, how about not letting my brain dead generation walk all over you with their over-priced Toms? How about making art for art's sake? Good Gracious, I'd like to see my Honors Humanities teacher kick your ass with her dainty little heels. Not that good movies haven't come out.  Um...hello? THE HOBBIT! 


All righty...I feel slightly less like my hormones are running a truck through my brain.  Peace and midnight rendezvous,

~Cynthia