To My Enemies Who Blame Arts & Entertainment for Human Depravity


Lizzie-Borden-9219858-1-402"A female Detective Constable:

You show violence on TV, it promotes violence.

Dr. Tony Hill (clinical psychologist and police consultant):

Oh, yeah? What shows did Jack the Ripper watch?  Did Christie have cable?  No.  The desire to act the way these killers do is already in there.  We breed them – society, not television.  And if it wasn't television in this case it would be something else – brown hair, blue eyes…"

                     Wire in the Blood, Season 3, episode 3: Nothing But the Night

                   Written by Alan Whiting (based on novels by Val McDermid)

US Open Women’s Quarterfinals Prove that 30 Is… the New 30


1378253439001-USP-Tennis-US-Open-S-Williams-vs-NavarroNo, it's not an error in the title of this post – I meant what I wrote.  30 is not the new 20, even though some women in their late 20s and early 30s look like high schoolers. 

At 20, our poor over-achieving and uber-pepped children are still tainted by their immediate adults' high expectations; their psyche is all screwed up by fear of failure, which results in terrible confidence and self-worth issues.  No matter what some psychologists say about "infantilism," I firmly believe that these are the main reasons why the majority of the 50 million people in their 20s today appear somewhat stunted in their life cycle.  It's our fault. 

Far from all, but definitely the best ones, after 5-10 years of struggling through all the psychological and social tribulations their parents, guardians, and the society created for them,  come out of it knowing exactly what they want from their lives; acting with more maturity and confidence than any 20-year-old could've possibly mastered, even in "the good old times." (When were they that good for children and young people? I have no fucking clue!)  Thus, at its best, the new 30 is something we've never seen before: it is a unique combination of teenage physical youthfulness and adult mental toughness.  These 30-year-olds didn't waste their twenties (no matter what the bitter over-the-hill farts say), they used it to get better and free themselves from the bullshit that dragged them back.  The ages-old statistical measurements concerning the attainment of stations of life simply don't apply to them, and I can't believe that some esteemed sociologists and psychologists still use them.

This brings us to tennis as a perfect example of this phenomenon.  For the first time in the US Open history, three out of four ladies advanced to the semifinals are over 30: Serena Williams (will turn 32 in exactly three weeks), Li Na (31), and Flavia Pennetta (31).  If 30-year-old quarter-finalist Daniela Hantuchova overcame Victoria Azarenka (ranked #2 in the world), it would be a 30+ quartet.  Azarenka herself, at 24, is not that overwhelmingly young either - she turned pro 10 years ago.  And it's not like the three older women played in their "age group" – they went through a bunch of much younger competitors on their way to the semis.      

It's  remarkable, especially considering that this sport fairly recently saw 16 to 18-year-olds winning multiple Grand Slams in a row (Martina Hingis with a career slam at age 17 in 1997 comes to mind).  Now, there is not a single teenager among the top 30 ranked players on both men's and women's sides.  Serena Williams after all ups and downs of her, still remarkable, twenties last year won Wimbledon, the US Open, and two Olympic Golds.  She played more matches this year than she ever played in her life before (reaching #1 rank) and already pocketed the French Open title.       

According to the contemporary medical science, theoretically speaking, these 30-year-young people will have 10 years longer to live than we do.  So, if we don't completely destroy the environment, the economy, and the democracy, people in their 30s will have plenty of time to at least try to realize their potentials and can consider their twenties as formative years.  If we let them to survive, they will look 35 at 50 and continue rocking on well into their 80s.

Quote of the Week: …And I Say to Myself, What a Wonderful World???


David+Lynch+David++Isabella+PNG"If one looks a little closer at this beautiful world, there are always red ants underneath."

        David Lynch

The weirdest friend I wish I had (and I hope the readers get the irony of the quote in conjunction with this photo).

Quote of the Week: More on Economics of the Moviemaking


Barton Fink"Barton Fink is a 1991 American film, written, directed, and produced by the Coen brothers.  Set in 1941, it stars John Turturro in the title role as a young New York City playwright who is hired to write scripts for a movie studio in Hollywood, and John Goodman as Charlie, the insurance salesman who lives next door at the run-down Hotel Earle.  The Coens wrote the screenplay in three weeks while experiencing difficulty during the writing of another film, Miller's Crossing.  Premiered at the Cannes Film Festival in May 1991, Barton Fink won the Palme d'Or, as well as awards for Best Director and Best Actor (Turturro).  Although it was celebrated almost universally by critics and nominated for three Academy Awards, the movie grossed only $6,000,000 at the box office, two-thirds of its estimated budget."

From Wikipedia's front-page featured article on 08/13/2013

The Frustrated CFO commentary:

You see, it has always been like that in the cinema production  - you either make art or you make money.  Sometimes, you go for art and hit the gold vein, e.g. Pulp Fiction ($8 million budget, $213 million gross).  It's rare and  you have to take big risks.  But no one has better economic instincts than Hollywood honchos: they feel in their guts that the money wells are drying out, and they will do anything to keep their mansions, jets, and trophy wives.  So, forget risks and forget art; hello meaningless 3D bullshit easily digestible by the billions in China, Russia, and Middle America.

FX’s “The Americans” and the Issue of Assimilation


628x471A couple of months ago, on the subway, I looked to my left and glimpsed an article that a person next to me was reading.  My eye caught a headline – it was a review of the first season of FX's new show The Americans, which I haven't seen at that point.  

Do you know that our eyes scan a text much faster than our brains can register the information we see, yet the familiar data will always stand out?  I looked at the page for no more than 10 seconds, but I could've sworn that I saw a mentioning of Homeland there.  So, I allowed myself to look again (I actually consider it rude when people read over each other's shoulders in public transportation, but couldn't resist in this case).  My eyes returned me to the right place and I've read a verbose sentence, which amounted pretty much to the critic's opinion that, as far as spies-vs.-federal-agents shows go,  in some ways The Americans was better than Homeland.

Being a devoted fan of Carrie Mathison's completely fucked up character, I decided to check out the FX's (co-produced by Steven Spielberg/Kathleen Kennedy's Amblin Entertainment) period piece (it's set during one of the Cold War's coldest periods, the 80s) about two KGB officers, who have been implanted into American suburbs as a married couple, Elizabeth and Phillip Jennings, sometimes in the 1960s.  So, I watched (and enjoyed) the first 4 episodes of the show.  

Alas, it's not Homeland (oh, the "professional" critics!): the intensity of the storytelling, the multi-layered subtlety of every single character of the Showtime's hit series – they are not there.  I mean, the fact that I was able to stop after 4 episodes and indefinitely postpone watching the rest speaks for itself.  I wouldn't be able to do it with Homeland.  But it's definitely a very well-made, higher-quality entertainment.  It succeeds in tricking the audience into the same fucked up experience of not wanting the main characters, clearly enemies and murderers, to get caught.  I definitely plan to watch the rest at some point.

But it's uncanny how a human mind functions – its associative powers work in mysterious ways.  The most persistent train of thought The Americans evoked in me had nothing to do with the spydom shenanigans; it was about the intricacies of social and cultural assimilation. 

You see, the series' main characters, even though pretend to be US-born, are essentially a first-generation immigrant couple transplanted onto American soil, flawless and accentless English notwithstanding.  No matter how intensive their training was back in Russia, it could not have prepared them for the lifestyle and social conditions so acutely different from their homeland.  There is a flashback in one of the first episodes that takes us back to "the Jennings'" supposedly first night in America: They enter some motel room and marvel at the cool air coming out of the conditioning unit in the window.  That's it.  And there is nothing else needed to accentuate the dramatic shift - even the KGB generals, who blessed their clandestine future, didn't have air conditioners in their offices at the time.

Fifteen years later, at the show's "present" time,  they don't marvel at the household conveniences anymore – people get used to comforts very quickly.  However, their socio-psychological adaptation to American life is a completely different matter. 

Phillip/Mischa (Matthew Rhys, an immensely talented and versatile Welsh actor, who himself is obviously assimilating quite well in Hollywood what with five years of playing Sally Field's gay son on Brothers & Sisters and now this series)  has completely embraced the American culture and lifestyle.  He obviously considers this suburb, this house, this cover business truly his own.  For him, it feels like home here.  He listens to the same music his very American kids do and speaks their lingo.  He even annoys his teenage daughter at the mall in a goofy, American-dad kind of way: He tries on cowboy boots and does a bit of a country dancing to the music playing on the overhead system.  He's assimilated to the point that the idea of defecting to FBI is not just plausible, it's desirable and he proposes it to his wife practically in the second episode.   

This suggestion is met by Elizabeth/Nadezhda (a convincing Keri Russell, whose severe appearance effectively helps you to forget her soft and fuzzy Felicity past) with a scorn that goes way beyond the slighted sense of duty and reverence for the higher purpose of the "brighter future" she believes she serves.  It's not just the ideology talking – you can feel that she LOVES Mother-Russia and still treats her life in America as an assignment.

Living and working in New York City,  you deal with immigrants practically every single moment you are at work or in public.  And I cannot even begin to tell you what a spectrum of various assimilation degrees one can observe, if one cares to look.  Middle-aged and older people, of course, have more difficult time adjusting.  But I know young people, who came to this country as teenagers from China, India, Pakistan, Russia, Middle East, went to high schools and colleges here, but have no interest in American culture. 

They read only their native-language newspapers, watch only cable channels that show news and movies from their home-countries, even use specific nationally-oriented search engines.  These people usually live in the areas predominately populated by their countrymen and frequently end up working for the businesses ran by them as well.  It is virtually impossible to have a conversation with them about anything that we consider a common knowledge.  They live here for decades, but they give you an impression that they just came from some remote planet.  And the longing for their native land is just astonishing, even if it is the most oppressive place on Earth imaginable! Ok, Elizabeth/Nadezhda was sent here to spy, but why these other people came? For the conditioned air? 

What I realized, after years of dealing with immigrants, was that the ones with higher ability to assimilate are generally more open-minded, more adaptable, and more cultured people.  Those who read Faulkner, watched Coppola, and listened to Jimi Hendrix before they came to the States will continue immersing themselves into American culture.  They are the ones who end up caring about the national politics and the future of their new home.  The other ones - how can we consider them Americans, even if they carry the US passports?