(no subject)
Finally watched Whiplash last night. When it was released there was a hue and cry from jazz musicians, particularly drummers, about how the movie's drumming was stupid and the representation of jazz education was stupid and Everything Was Stupid.
Of course what they fail to realize is that the movie is no more about jazz than The Karate Kid is about karate. Jazz is the bland cracker that delivers the delicious cheese of psychodrama in this movie. So, yeah, the depiction of drumming is wildly incorrect and the likelihood that a music instructor would ever lay a finger on a student is nonexistent and it's way over the top, but the movie succeeds in provoking acute feelings of anxiety and discomfort in the viewer, which is the whole point. And therefore, as a movie, it is quite good despite some wooden acting from the protagonist. And it ends correctly given the entire arc of narrative.
In other news I will finally get my S2000 top repaired. For a while it had a defect at the front where it met the windshield which gradually expanded until at speed air was coming in under the top. I forgot about this the last time I was driving it and during an impatient freeway pass I hit 87 mph whereupon the top ripped wide open. Fortunately Holly had recently cleared out the garage enough to park the car in it, and now I've bought a new fabric top from online, and I need the upholstery shop to install it, and I'll have a decent top on the car again. It was such a pain in the ass repairing the top the first time I would rather pay someone to do it. I'm lazy.
We also got Journey a bigger bike since she's too big for the Goodwill Special we acquired a few years ago. A local bike shop couldn't put training wheels on it, so I'm going to try to get her to learn to ride without them. So far we've had one 10 minute practice session, and while she moans and whines about riding, I think she will get it pretty quickly.
Of course what they fail to realize is that the movie is no more about jazz than The Karate Kid is about karate. Jazz is the bland cracker that delivers the delicious cheese of psychodrama in this movie. So, yeah, the depiction of drumming is wildly incorrect and the likelihood that a music instructor would ever lay a finger on a student is nonexistent and it's way over the top, but the movie succeeds in provoking acute feelings of anxiety and discomfort in the viewer, which is the whole point. And therefore, as a movie, it is quite good despite some wooden acting from the protagonist. And it ends correctly given the entire arc of narrative.
In other news I will finally get my S2000 top repaired. For a while it had a defect at the front where it met the windshield which gradually expanded until at speed air was coming in under the top. I forgot about this the last time I was driving it and during an impatient freeway pass I hit 87 mph whereupon the top ripped wide open. Fortunately Holly had recently cleared out the garage enough to park the car in it, and now I've bought a new fabric top from online, and I need the upholstery shop to install it, and I'll have a decent top on the car again. It was such a pain in the ass repairing the top the first time I would rather pay someone to do it. I'm lazy.
We also got Journey a bigger bike since she's too big for the Goodwill Special we acquired a few years ago. A local bike shop couldn't put training wheels on it, so I'm going to try to get her to learn to ride without them. So far we've had one 10 minute practice session, and while she moans and whines about riding, I think she will get it pretty quickly.