Taking Lives

Writer guy

Take an FBI profiler with no personality, mix in some unconvincing actors, cheesy camera work, add a wafer thin plot and a matzo ball and you have some foul tasting soup. But at least you can digest the soup. That’s not the case with this movie.

The premise is that French Canadian cops fear they have a serial killer on their hands and they lack the expertise to solve the crime so they bring on a FBI profiler to help out. OK, fine. Since when have the French ever admitted they can’t do something? That glaring problem aside here’s a few more.

1) Angelina Jolie can play sluts very well. FBI profilers are not sluts. I can’t get past the sluttishness nature of her character. Please Angelina keep your clothes ON for a change. It’s bad enough we have to look at those wacky wall walkers you call lips.

2) Ethan Hawke can act, but not in this movie. I’m not going to speculate on what was going through his mind but it wasn’t this film. He was miscast here. We’ll chalk it up to a failed experiment.

3) The cinematography work was among the worst I’ve ever seen. Lots of overhead shots that looked down on the actors, lots of shots from the floor looking up at them. Lots of pointless shots that obscured their faces. Yet when it mattered the cameras didn’t seem to be on the action. It wasn’t arty, it wasn’t cute. It was annoying.

4) The only credible conflict was between Angelina Jolie and her French counterpart played by Oliver Martinez. He did act the role of cop not wanting her help. I can’t say she ever did anything to convince me that they needed her.

Survey says we have a problem with this flick. Now, in all fairness here’s some good things.

1) The premise of a killer taking on the life of the person they killed has potential. It’s an interesting what if.

2) It was in color.

3) The soundtrack was decent.

4) Only some of the theater left before the ending. Unfortunately I wasn’t one of them.

5) The film ended with my favorite U2 song.

DVD rental or cable. You won’t miss anything not having it on big screen.

It’s a bright and sunny day

Writer guy

The sun is shining, the weather is good and the wife is working. It’s the first nice day since the last grips of winter reared it’s ugly head and the only sun I’m getting is the light blasting through the window behind me.

I had a pretty good week at the machine. Momentum seems to have taken over and I’m closing in on the 120 page mark on Velocity. I’m starting to think I may not only have the second book done in the series before I sell the first, but I may get well into the third. If this writing clip holds, I’ll have a rough draft of Velocity done by mid May.

I’m not sure how long it will take to revise Velocity, since Editor Person is busy all the time these days. I can’t exactly ask them to take a vacation from their job to edit my book, so I’ll guess we’ll just sit down when the entire book is done.

Still I miss the Wednesday sessions. We’re meeting in a week or so to make sure The Ridge Runner is as spiffy as can be, in the hopes that the prospective agent asks to see the whole book. Still, if such a request comes from them it may not be for many more weeks. It’s all out of my hands…

Is it any wonder

Writer guy

The wife just accused me of wanting to be famous and it got me thinking that I’m not sure I’m guilty of that, but that I should ponder her claim.

Let’s start with what fame is. Is being famous about being recognized in the grocery store? Getting free clothes from stores because you wear their stuff on talk shows? Being known by just your first name? Or is it a more subtle like everyone wants to be your friend and say they know you? Well, maybe that’s not so subtle.

OK, now who wants this fame? It seems that there’s no shortage of people who compete for a slot on Surrvivor or Real World. Reality shows are about normal people taking their shot at the big time. These shows get huge ratings, so it appears that lots of people want this.

To me fame means three things. One, a great TV show/movie. I’ll admit, I know all the words to the theme. Two it’s a great song by David Bowie. There’s killer bass work on that track. Three, I think fame is something better left for other people.

Unless it gets me free pizza I don’t want to be famous. If I can go into my local pizza place and get 2 slices and a Diet Coke free, then sign me up Scotty! I want my 3.10 lunch at no charge. Not every time of course, like maybe once a week or something. I’d still pay for all the pizza that comes to my house and tip the driver.

It’s a simple dream really.

Oy vey, what else can I say?

Writer guy

This morning more of that cursed white stuff blankets what should be my green lawn, soiling my mood like a coffee stain on my favorite white shirt. The flowers were set to bloom until this evil came to town delaying what should be spring. Now the bushes that the landlord planted last year during the heat wave in August that died and the he replanted in October when the weather cooled off sag from the weight of the snow.

Who’s in charge here and why weren’t they fired? Who ordered a snow storm right at the cusp of spring when the nights should smell like the sweet scent of fresh flowers? I do say a pox on your sir or madam! I demand a recount for you obviously stole the election. Let me see those pregnant chads, those “subjective interpretation” ballots. Take this white stuff away immediately or I will lead the charge for your impeachment! Yes! That’s it! Fix it now or my movement shall parade you down Main Street like a Scooby Doo pinata on the Fourth of July. You better run home to mama now! And take this white, slippery and cold plague of locusts with you.

I gotta move to Key West, Florida. I just gotta.