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Dan Carlson
Los Angeles, California

I'm a twentysomething white male with ambitions to be a professional film critic and generally spend my days getting paid to watch movies and write about it. I try not to think too hard about how I want to build my life around talking about other people's creations and not mine. A compulsive reader and stubborn cineaste, I take an often contrary stance to my more fundamentalist peers and upbringing by celebrating the pursuit of the good, and the Good, in life, love, art and film. If you watched enough episodes of a few TV shows ("The Hungry and the Hunted," "The Cut Man Cometh," "The Body," "The Zeppo," "Waiting in the Wings," "Out of Gas," "April is the Cruelest Month," "20 Hours in America," "Colonial Day," "An Echolls Family Christmas," and "Look Who's Stalking," for starters), you would understand me completely, and you'd also realize that much of my worldview and philosophical insights are heavily influenced by fictional works/programs, and many of the good things I've said in my life are just a regurgitation of someone else's imaginings. I guess I was made to be a film critic.

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« James Van Der Beek, Frank L. Baum, And A Complete Lack Of Shame |Main| My Musical Year In Review — 4 »

December 12, 2007

Too Many Thoughts, Etc.

By Dan Carlson

• So, at the end of Rent, Tom Collins shows back up with a wad of cash at Mark and Roger's apartment. Understandably curious, they ask him where he got the money. Tom replies that he rewired the ATM at the Food Emporium with what's apparently some kind of override code, so all you have to do is enter "A-N-G-E-L" as the password and out comes the money. But hold on, man: Are you seriously advocating that? What about the residents of Alphabet City who don't give a shit about your life, and whose money you seem to be okay with stealing; what about them? I mean, yeah, it sucks that Angel died on you like that, but still. If I were your neighbor, and I found out that you were ripping off my cash just because you think you're broke enough to deserve it, I would beat you down. And I know I'd win, too.

• Also, seriously, in what alternate world can Anthony Rapp pass as straight? At the beginning of the movie, he says he just broke up with Maureen, which made me pause and think, "That's odd. Maureen sounds like a woman's name." I mean, come on. It's Anthony Rapp. Good actor, good singer. Very gay. Am I the only one who felt the cognitive dissonance?

• Easily the most enjoyably random thing about Rent was the appearance of Aaron Lohr — of "Newsies" and "The Mighty Ducks" — as one of the AIDS support group members. When he stood up and started singing "Will I lose my dignity ..." I wondered if he would whip out a hockey stick and start checking the counselor.

Comments: 3

Constance

If I were your neighbor, and I found out that you were ripping off my cash just because you think you're broke enough to deserve it, I would beat you down. And I know I'd win, too.

Ditto.

Rent speaks to me because all of my friends are gay and are dying of aids.

Anthony Rapp will always be the next-door-neighbor-best-friend from "Adventures in Babysitting," Daryl Coopersmith. Just sayin'.
-Scribe
Happy Holidays.

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"The critic is the only independent source of information. The rest is advertising."
— Pauline Kael

"Film lovers are sick people."
— Francois Truffaut

"I hope I strike a blow for chubby bald men everywhere. I hope they rise like an army."
Paul Giamatti, quoted in the Los Angeles Times, 12/14/04

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the wisdom

Remembering speechlessly we seek the great forgotten language, the lost lane-end into heaven, a stone, a leaf, an unfound door. Where? When?

O lost, and by the wind grieved, ghost, come back again.
— Look Homeward, Angel, Thomas Wolfe

Conservatives are not necessarily stupid, but most stupid people are conservatives.
— John Stuart Mill

We are all under the same mental calamity; we have all forgotten our names. We have all forgotten what we really are. All that we call common sense and rationality and practicality and positivism only means that for certain dead levels of our life we forget that we have forgotten. All that we call spirit and art and ecstasy only means that for one awful instant we remember that we forget.
— G.K. Chesterton

We were, for the briefest of moments, something greater than the sum of our uncertain parts; we were youth itself, in all its painful glory and sharp joy.
— Me, Fall 2003

There is a time in the lives of most writers when they are vulnerable, when the vivid dreams and ambitions of childhood seem to pale in the harsh sunlight of what we call the real world. In short, there's a time when things can go either way.
— Stephen King

Los Angeles, give me some of you! Los Angeles come to me the way I came to you, my feet over your streets, you pretty town I loved you so much, you sad flower in the sand, you pretty town.
Ask the Dust, John Fante