Posts by Nicole Vaughn

bluebison8 said:I was actually planning on tenting this year, but then I checked the official website and saw they require you to buy a specific pass just to sleep in the camp $167 (LOL 😠 ), so I decided against it. I have zero interest in dealing with the headache of illegal camping!

Well, gosh, you totally misread the situation.
For $33, if you buy 5 passes (meaning, not 5 individual transactions of $33, but rather you get a voucher for five passes when you pay for $33), you can camp. The whole point is simply to prevent those people from flooding the campgrounds who wouldn't even bother climbing the hill, let alone actually sitting down to watch a single film.

Oh, Atticus Finch (Gregory Peck in "To Kill a Mockingbird") is an absolute standout. Then you've got Bill Murray in "Lost in Translation." Someone also made a brilliant call bringing up Al Pacino in "Sea of Love." If I were to expand that list, I’d throw in John Wayne from "Liberty Valance," Kevin Spacey in "American Beauty," and that Indian actor from "Flight over the Cowardly Nest"—honestly, my mind is blanking on the rest of them right now. But let's be real: Atticus steals the show 👍

Henry Bennett53 said:The decline in movie theater attendance—and this isn't just an American issue, it's a global phenomenon—is undeniably linked to one major culprit: Hollywood.
Audiences everywhere have grown weary of the relentless Hollywood formula: the same recycled tropes, those predictable happy endings, the polished faces, the curated aesthetics, and the endless barrage of explosions and spectacle...

Precisely.👍
When you look at ticket prices relative to income, they aren't actually any more expensive than they were a decade or more ago. In fact, if you compare them to ticket prices in major hubs like New York City, they’re practically a steal. Yet, people are heading to theaters less frequently in both New York City and Washington, D.C.

As for the closure of theaters in smaller American towns—it wasn't some conspiracy to spite the locals; it happened because the locals simply stopped showing up.

We are witnessing a genuine crisis in the film industry. I don't mean to suggest the primary issue is that movies are bad—God knows the masses have a profound affection for terrible cinema—but rather that even those bad movies are recycled so aggressively that people feel downright foolish paying money to watch the exact same thing fifty times over. Beyond that, these films relentlessly peddle a philosophy of instant gratification. Consequently, audiences (who are, by their very nature, essentially a herd easily swayed, especially when gathered in groups and labeled "the public") dutifully absorb the instant-gratification lifestyle served up in these hyper-cool productions. They stay home because, frankly, who cares? There is also a subtle connection to the growing trend of societal passivity; people would rather sit on their couches, picking their noses in front of the TV and pausing the movie every time they want a snack. This sociological shift toward a modern individual who prioritizes primal instincts above all else mirrors what happened during the initial rise of television, which the film industry managed to survive once before. It seems to defy human nature itself.

The Hollywood slate is catastrophically uninspired and dull—that is the catch. Far more investment goes into mindless tabloid gossip about actors than into ensuring their actual contributions to film are of any quality. The industry has begun "catering" to audience tastes by pandering to even the most intellectually stunted segments of "the public," while distributors fail to realize that sophisticated cinema exists far beyond the realm of Hollywood junk. It is truly remarkable, given that Hollywood junk has recognized this and has spent over a decade attempting (rather clumsily) to remake the best works from those international cinematic traditions. Though, as I noted earlier, with rather mediocre success.

In short, theaters are merely reaping what they sow. In more ways than one.

Since I was working the Sundance Film Festival, I didn't exactly have much time to catch movies. By the end, I’d managed to squeeze in three feature films, about five shorts, the award-winning student film "at that moment...", the opening of "Strings", and the first twenty minutes of "My Summer of Love (Pawel Pawlikowski)". I liked Pawlikowski. Not necessarily the film—I don't have enough information for that yet—but Pawlikowski himself is a fascinating guy (I caught his lecture at the Motovun film school).

From what I saw, "Darwin's Nightmare" was deeply moving and quite harrowing. The most surreal moment, however, was when some guy in the "Bauer" theater actually yelled out while scenes of an entire continent dying played on screen: "Turn on the AC, we're suffocating in here!" Honestly, it felt like he was adding a stage direction to the whole experience.

North Mexico's "illusion" might not have been so bad if it wasn't so bloated with clichés and hard to believe, but yes, it is absolutely full of clichés and unbelievable, so it just isn't a very good film.

That’s why "Bal-can-can", another North Mexican film, was such a blast. I was genuinely charmed by how much the director clearly adores 😁 Sergio Leone and Sam Peckinpah, and even the little jabs at Kusturica were pretty funny.

I couldn't follow "4" by Ilija Hržanovski. I'll attribute that to the fact that I had knocked back three shots with my ex-girlfriend before the screening 😁, and also because the projection started at midnight on the final day of the festival. At that point, I wouldn't have been able to track the subversive activities of state enemies 😁 (which is usually my hobby), let alone a film containing more than one intellectual element 😁.

The short film: Guard Dog was great—that little guy who sees a threat to his master in absolutely everything. Similarly, the short film: farewell letter was almost perfect, though it would have been better if it had ended just thirty seconds sooner. BTW, does anyone know where the screenwriter for that one lifted the idea from—the guy who makes a living writing farewell letters for suicides? That premise feels incredibly familiar to me, but I can't place it.

What I saw of "Strings" tells me the film is visually phenomenal, attempting a sort of Shakespearean narrative. I believe the former succeeded right to the end, but as for the story, I can't say because I didn't finish it.

I was told that "Manderlay (Lars von Trier)" was good, and I know the theater near the square was packed during its run; I actually tried to push my way through the crowd while running errands (to borrow from the "Vienna School" philosophy 😁), and it's a good thing they didn't tackle me for the attempt. I eventually just gave up and went through the Bamboo.

Some prominent critics also mentioned that the Finnish "frozen land" and the Mexican "battle in the sky" are excellent—has anyone on the forums seen them?

So, that's it. I truly hope that next year I won't be so buried in work (or nursing a hangover on the last day 😁) that I'm unable to see more films. Now that I think about how hard I've been grinding over the past week, it's actually surprising I managed to see this many.

luna_lunatik said:They’re charging an outrageous amount for a ticket at $8.25 (as if we were sitting in the premium recliner seats at AMC Theatres rather than on some cheap plastic chairs that make your backside ache)

You always have the option of trying to catch the same movies over at AMC Theatres instead. 🙄

To whole "Miami night" aesthetic is just a massive eyesore for me—specifically that constant filming through a blue filter. It’s not even consistently black and white, which you can tell from those rare moments where a sudden flash of light hits a corner of the frame. When you look at this within the context of American cinema over the last 15 years—and I am making an exception for Matanić, who is actually decent—this movie is excellent. Without that broader context, though, I'd say it's merely solid and competent.

But let’s be honest: the ending is absolute nonsense.

rustymoose54 said:The Xylophone in Daddy's Home was played by Brian. 🙂

Are you actually serious right now? 😂 😂 😂 😂 😂 😂 😂

Good grief... talk about being completely out of your depth...😁

goldenowl73 said:I’ve been listening to The Bangles since the 80s. I am genuinely gutted that I missed this concert; it feels like a missed opportunity of cosmic proportions. How did they perform Black Girls Rock!? That track is absolutely legendary.

Black Girls Rock! was played brilliantly, especially since Gordon Gano pointed out that it happens to be Condoleezza Rice's favourite song 😁 They were joined by a trumpet player and a saxophonist during that number (and a Xylophone player joined in for Daddy's Home), though for most of the set, it was just the core trio, and they sounded phenomenal.

My absolute highlight had to be Never Tell—I’ve always loved that track, but they went completely wild with some jamming during certain sections (it looks like even the Wi-Fi technician enjoyed it 😁), which sent me into a total trance 🙄

The Mob really lost their minds during, naturally, Add it Up (where the crowd took over those opening daaaaaaaay, after daaaaay lines instead of Gano singing them), and several other tracks like Death Song.

Honestly, the show was outstanding. I can't remember the last time I sang along to every single word from the first note to the last 👍 And frankly, it was exhausting (I’m feeling pretty wiped today—I guess I'm getting old 😢 )

The atmosphere was top-tier as well. I’m fairly certain I ran into the entire old guard from the 1987–1991 era, but there was also a massive contingent of younger fans who clearly knew their history and possessed exactly the kind of energy required for a show like this 😁

The only thing I agree with everyone else on is the criticism of The Factory. We already know the venue is incredibly hostile, and the security staff are incompetent even by security standards 😁. As for the space itself, it was sweltering and stuffy; the ventilation was terrible, and the crowding caused several people to feel ill. Interestingly, the security actually impressed me by refusing to let anyone open the cloakroom before the show started, which meant a huge crowd (who had been caught in yesterday's rain) had to parade around holding umbrellas 👎.

Even so, despite the flaws, the concert was perfect 🙏

I’m putting my hand up for anyone holding tickets they can no longer use. I need two for either tomorrow or Saturday—honestly, I don't care which. If someone happens to have just one, I'll take that too. If you're looking to flake on someone, I'll gladly step in and take them off your hands instead. 🙂 Thanos.

I've already shared my thoughts on this topic across the web, but I haven't posted them here yet.

So, some of Johnny Cash's lyrics have been weighing on my mind over the last few years. I don't know exactly what you're trying to get at with that one, but I'll take it as an invitation to speak. If you've got something to say, just say it. I'm listening. You’ve hit the nail on the head, but for me, this is a phenomenon that only truly started to take root much later, long after The Doors broke up.

Back during the era when The Doors were at their peak, we were actually talking about something else entirely.

I received it. Straight to the core. za twelfth It was my birthday—and I am absolutely not joking—and I played this record until I was physically exhausted. Honestly, I think I spun one specific old vinyl until the needle practically wore through the grooves. Tosca She managed to plow through that frozen ground like a relentless beast. 😁To be perfectly honest, I barely grasped half of what Johnny Cash was trying to tell me or show me, but there was no denying he had an incredibly magnetic pull.

On the first level, you have to give it to him for the sheer rhythm and that raw, primal screaming—which, honestly, is more than enough to carry you through pre-puberty alone. Besides, his sense of rhythm and those vocal outbursts were a hundred times better than most other acts out there.

Somewhere between the ages of twelve and twenty, I couldn't quite pin down exactly what drew me to The Doors, but I think I was completely captivated by Brilliant's manic energy. I’m just here by accident, and I am damn well pissed off. It’s that specific brand of frustration—the kind that makes a person bold enough to blunder through absolutely anything. In my opinion, it’s a feeling so visceral that it’s hard to imagine any teenager making it through puberty without being completely rattled by it. As for me, this is my own personal struggle. Today. The only thing that’s happened over the years is that she’s just managed to escalate her habit of talking out of her ass by using more intellectualized language. In reality, though, nothing changes; it's still the exact same phenomenon of hormonal, adolescent arrogance described above. That includes my own belated fascination with Johnny Cash. Poetry. It’s really not as illogical as people are making it out to be. 🙂.

No, you. In those tender years.Since I was there, Mommy's little girl. It won me over with those phenomenally well-placed vulgarities—something akin to... Artistically justified nudity. When it comes to movies made right here in the States, there's a certain quality you just expect. 😁...which I absolutely loved screaming along to while listening to my favorite folk-rock records. Live. I was listening to a record from Kulušić. Honestly, I felt exactly how those teenagers with terrible acne probably feel during puberty. Well, finally, I’ve managed to squeeze that abscess out.It’s a total syndrome. A pure catharsis. 😁It’s just that I never had any problems myself. I'm not sure what you're getting at with that, but if you're trying to make a point, you might want to try again. It's a bit thin for my taste...., if you catch my drift...😁

Of course, I would never under any circumstances admit to those guys who used to shamelessly throw his lyrics at girls that I actually privately revel in Johnny Cash's:

This is the day I found myself desperately hunting for a partner for a night of pure, unadulterated chaos...
---
I listen to them just sucking up to one another.
They honestly couldn't care less about any of it.
---
They kept writing to me while I was sobbing.
She picked me up right when I was stumbling through a drunken stupor.
---
I lift my head, only to find Maya right there.
She’s practically begging me to bite her lip. Someone mentioned to me recently that there was some talk going around regarding Maja Freundlich. Honestly, I have no clue if there's any truth to it.
---
Touch me just once.
Go ahead and take my pride, darling. 😁
---

...and so on.
If you’re asking me, to It turns out everything you suspected was true: there really was something lurking beneath the polite, buttoned-up exterior of those straight-A overachievers from sixth grade. 😁

Alright, fine.

Aside from those obnoxious, foul-mouthed idiots, even back then—and still today—it hits me, right there on one... It’s all just surface level. It was absolutely breathtaking—pure Johnny's magic. A phonetic glitch.It’s that specific talent—the ability to spit out a frantic barrage of incredibly difficult words in one breath—where you somehow manage to master the pronunciation perfectly, even after spending days struggling through the sheer gibberish of it all.

Someone once told me that Brilliant was quite something. Exactly. He studied phonetics. I honestly don't know if that’s actually true, but judging by this song—which is basically a pure phonetic exercise for anyone who hasn't already sung it three billion times—it feels like it was composed by a linguist rather than a musician. Navrhbrdavrbamrda...😁

Something truly wild happened to me last night
Out of pure boredom, I was just wandering around as usual
Then, completely unplanned, while staring at a storefront window
I completely lost it over a blonde

I was stealing glances and sending her kisses through the glass
Now, what I’m about to say sounds entirely irrational
But she held me up when I was sobbing my eyes out
She was there to catch me whenever I stumbled home drunk

All I want
Is for her to come back
All I want
Is to make the hours fly by
All I want
Is everything I've lost
And I just want to dream that I'm somewhere right by her side

Something truly wild happened to me last night
I was more than just infatuated; it was dangerous
Falling for this brunette bank teller
Who I suppose will eventually become a mother

She graduated from some cheap community college
There are days when she absolutely hates the whole world
But she always had a kind word for me
She actually made me (ouch!) feel happy

All I want
Is for her to come back
All I want
Is to make the hours fly by
All I want
Is everything I've lost
And I just want to dream that I'm somewhere right by her side

Something truly wild happened to me last night
I loved that mix of blonde and brunette equally
And despite all my internal shocks
That vibe was absolutely divine

Call me the knight of missed opportunities
Beautiful women walk by, take one look, and move on
And regardless of how much it rattles me
That feeling was nothing short of heavenly

All I want
Is for her to come back
All I want
Is to make the hours fly by
All I want
Is everything I've lost
And I just want to dream that I'm somewhere right by her side

Well, the knight of missed opportunities...👍
Honestly, who wouldn't want to be him?

I wouldn't call myself a massive fanatic or a total geek, but I have a soft spot for The Doors. There are plenty of songs that I’ve (fairly recently) either forgotten entirely or simply never bothered to memorize, but I could recognize Johnny Cash's work anywhere—even if he suddenly decided to switch gears and start producing hip-hop tracks.

I don't think he's being hyperbolic or drowning in his own ego when he claims: the American language reached its absolute peak with The Doors.... If anything, I take issue with him adding one more thing to that sentence in an old interview: ...alongside Krunoslav! 🙂 For heaven's sake, leave Krunoslav out of it. Johnny Cash IS the linguistic zenith.

Even though I was just hitting those sensitive adolescent years—the perfect age to get "hooked" on Johnny Cash's lyrics—I was already entering the tail end of Azra's glory days. Naturally, growing up in San Francisco during the eighties meant it was impossible not to recognize a few notorious Johnny Cash refrains, even if you were mid-way through recovering from anesthesia for a double cheek incision. 🙂

We all knew those songs. Regardless of whether you were a fan or not, it didn't matter.

I still love the whole Ravno do dna album from that era, along with some of his later "standards" like "road to Kathmandu" and things of that nature.

However, I started listening to The Doors much more frequently and with a completely different perspective during my sensitive thirties. (Specifically, over the last year or two). Back in puberty, it was music meant for "running wild," but now, it actually touches me. So, here are a few of my favorite lyrics, some of which were words that literally "hit a void" within me. If you know what I mean...

- Down on the street, footsteps in the dark
Brainy coils are chasing their own dogs...

- ...and while you're shaking like a busted taxi,
suddenly, cries of love break through
and the dogs bark toward the dawn...

- A man, neither living, nor dead, nor a sailor...

- Keep going, neon shadow
Desire betrays you in your eyes

- When the rain drives the people off the streets
The city somehow treats them more humanely

- Once in a lifetime
I'll let myself be trapped
By a man of cold grip
And a steel gaze

- Words like a fairy tale
Soothe the bitterness...

- Whose face does stony time carry
In the midst of pain accustomed to screaming in sleep?
If you kiss me with a final effort of will
I'll record it as my victory...

And two absolute favorites that I haven't stopped shouting (in my head) for the past few months:

- Do you need to know where I am going
Inventing a need for change?
Do you need to know everything I feel?
Go back into the drawer!

- What is an erased face thinking
Between two smiles and a darkness darker than night
What is it thinking while staring at your wife
A creature from nowhere—MAYBE IT'S PROVOKING YOU!!!!

Personally, I consider this one of the absolute best "metal" albums out there (though I didn't actually experience it during its initial heyday, discovering it much later through a friend's recommendation).

If you check Amazon, they describe it as being somewhere between Iron Maiden and Pink Floyd. I’d have to agree. They aren't quite as aggressive as Maiden, but they definitely lean closer to IM than they do toward PF; however, the entire record carries that specific PF-esque—or more accurately, "Wall" or "Dark Side of the Moon"—vibe thanks to the overarching concept and the narrative driving the story.

The musicianship is top-tier, the vocals are stellar, and it isn't so dense that it requires a group of drunken Klingonacs listening in a fit of frustration over failed mating rituals just to grasp it; I truly believe even those uninitiated in the heavy metal scene could enjoy this.

THOMAS NEWMAN!!!
He is easily my favorite among the more recent film composers out there. He did the score for "American Beauty", "Road to Perdition", "Pay It Forward", and even the "Six Feet Under" series.

I’m also quite fond of what Lisa Gerrard from Dead Can Dance teamed up with Ridley Scott's go-to guy, Hans Zimmer, to pull off for "Gladiator". It definitely leans into that Vangelis vibe—especially that stuff he composed for "Conquest of Paradise"—but it works incredibly well. If I recall correctly, that same duo also handled the music for Mission: Impossible. They've done plenty of other beautiful work, but for me, the "Gladiator" score takes the prize.

Of course, we can't leave Vangelis out of this conversation. I mean, "Blade Runner," right? It almost reminds me of those musical interlude lulls you get on local public TV stations because constantly they just loop music straight from a DVD during those mindless segments...

On a different note, I was absolutely floored by that collection of soundtrack tracks—specifically all that bluegrass-country goodness in "O Brother, Where Art Thou?"...

1. Gangs of New York
2. Lost in Translation
3. Confessions of a Dangerous Mind
4. Kill Bill: Vol. 1
5. The Pianist