Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Final Reflection

I think the most important thing I learned from 312 was that I need to be more prepared when shooting a film. On my scene assignment, I completed all the required pre-production materials, but it seems as if it wasn't enough. When we started shooting there were still things, like the color and placement of the lights, that me and my DP were having to figure out on the spot. This made my job extremely stressful, because I knew people were waiting on me, but there were problems that had to be solved. Having done the assignments in 312, I think I'll be more prepared in the future.

One thing I learned is the kind of look I want as a filmmaker. I've already beaten that horse to death in my other blog posts so I won't explain what that is - but basically I know what I want to do with film now, and I know how to achieve it.

I think I understand the basic concepts of filmmaking pretty well by now; what I'm still lacking is technical proficiency. What is kind of perplexing about that is the fact that a lot of what I'm lacking is knowledge about the technology of filmmaking. Obviously 312 taught us those skills, but I have a hard time wrapping my head around it sometimes.

This is perplexing because I am by no means tech-deprived; I build my own computers, I am obsessive about using the right cables and converters to get the best sound and video quality possible out of my devices… etc. For some reason I have a problem with film technology. I'm confident that this is something I will eventually overcome (and 312 has certainly helped), but it's probably going to take a while.


I think the best thing that 312 did for me was to give me experience. Although I know the projects we worked on in 312 were relatively simple in the bigger picture, compared to the projects I'd worked on in the past they were fairly complex. As I already mentioned, they taught me the importance of planning ahead. What I think is really important is that they gave me a feel for how things work. There's really know way to know what it's like to shoot a film like Alpha Contentment until you actually do it. I have an enormous amount left to learn, but genuinely feel that 312 has helped me advance towards what I ultimately want to do with film.

Artist Statement

My purpose in making film (or video) is to create something that is beautiful but somewhat problematic. What I mean by problematic is that I want my films to challenge people in some way. It doesn't necessarily have to be on a conscious level; sometimes it merely consists of having some visual element that is slightly different than what you would expect it to be. Sometimes it means presenting the viewer with a situation that is difficult to understand.

I think film, and art in general, should be like a maze; the viewer has to find his/her way through. But just like a maze, the walls don't have to be drab and empty. There has to be something beautiful for them to see along the way, and sometimes there needs to be something there to guide them.

One of the ways this has come to manifest itself is in the way I like to light things. I have discovered, in the past few months, that I like a very shadowy, very harsh sort of lighting in my films. I like for my subjects to have a very sculptural quality to them. I like this because of the duality it creates; on the one hand it makes the characters more real because you are more aware of the space they occupy, but on the other hand it sometimes turns them into abstract shapes. I like this because it is like a visual conundrum that the viewer has to work through while watching the film.

I get these ideas from many different places; from independent filmmakers like Jim Jarmusch and David Lynch to well-established Hollywood directors like Stephen Spielberg. The message I get from filmmakers like these is that a film image should be like sculpture. It should be something that the viewer wants to reach out and touch.

The effect that I want to achieve with all of this is to present the viewer with something stimulating; something that pleases, but also presents challenges. Above all, I want my films to present something new; put a new twist on something old, or allow the viewer to see something slightly out of the ordinary. When you do that, the viewer is pleased, but also has to create new mental frameworks to understand what's happening. I'm not very good at this yet, but I'm working on it.

Videography Reel 2010

Videography Reel 2010 from Levon Peirce on Vimeo.


This is a collection of videos that I have either directed or DP'd on. They were shot between 2007 and 2010 in Santa Fe, NM, Tuscaloosa, AL, and Decatur, AL. Some were shot in SD and some in HD.

DSLR Filmmaking

There are several benefits to shooting films with DSLR cameras. For one thing, they are relatively inexpensive compared to most professional video cameras. They have very large sensors - the Canon 5D Mark II has a 5K sensor. They are also generally good in low light. They are also relatively compact, which allows for more freedom for camera movement and placement. This is especially helpful in low budget and documentary films where big complicated rigs are out of the question.

There are some downsides to using DSLR's as well. In general, they're not optimized for video. They are not always ideal ergonomically. There are also issues caused by the method most DSLRs use to scale the image down from the sensor's native resolution to the recorded file. Essentially, they do not really scale the image or perform calculations based on the original image; instead, several lines of the image are dropped. This can cause the moire effect, where lines that are close together create interference patterns based on their intersections.

Another downside is that the codec most DSLRs use to record video - H.264 - is a very lossy format. It is a very highly compressed format, so some information is lost.

It all depends on how you use the camera, and what your ultimate expectations of the finished image are.

Reels

To me, what makes a good reel is basically the same as what makes a good movie, except that it must be much more condensed and the story is usually ignored. A good reel should be a collection of the most interesting, most beautiful work you've done. What determines that is the same as what determines a good shot normally; good lighting, good framing and composition, good use of color and shadow, etc. Shots in a reel usually need to be things that immediately pop out at you and get your attention. Editing is also important; you must take all these separate threads and connect them in a way that makes at least a modicum of sense. A reel is a lot like a resume; you are trying to show the best possible side of yourself, and your aim is to impress. You are trying to sell your work - sometimes literally, sometimes figuratively.

$ shots

A money shot, from the way I understand it, is typically a shot in a film that is either difficult and/or expensive to produce or something that the film's commercial success depends on. From the way Dr. R used it, I take it to mean any shot that is particularly striking or beautiful. I already shot mine, so it would be ridiculous to simply describe them (anyone reading this has probably already seen them). Instead, I'll describe my thought process in making them.

For the first shot (the ping pong table shot) I wanted to do something with a moving camera, because that's something I don't do very often. I got the idea that it would be cool to have a moving shot of the table with ping pong balls falling around it; I liked this idea because it incorporated multiple lines of motion. For the lighting, I basically wanted to achieve the kind of lighting I've described in all of my other blog posts, so I won't go into that too much.

For the second shot (the shadow shot) I wanted to play with shadows. My initial idea was to have a shadow appear on a wall, and then the camera would turn around and see the source of the light (my friend Alex) and he would be surrounded by a halo of light. Due to the fact that we didn't have a tripod that could turn that fast, it evolved into the shadow being on the floor and the light not being so much a halo as an outline (that was due to us not having a fog machine). Nonetheless, I think it worked.

Director/DP Relationship

The challenge of being a director trying to communicate you vision to a DP, for me, is in explaining not only the look you want but also why you want it. In my mind, the DP needs to know why you want things shot in a certain way because your reasons are linked to the result. In other words, if you explain only what but not why, the DP will get the general idea, but may miss some of the subtle nuances which are often very important.

Explaining your reasons for doing things can be difficult because a) sometimes your ideas are based more on feelings than completely formed thoughts and b) the DP does not always think in the same way that you do. What I think works is when the director and DP establish some sort of relationship that makes it so that they each have a good idea of what the other is thinking before they say it. I don't have this sort of relationship with another filmmaker, but many professional filmmakers have spoken of it.

The challenge of being a DP is exactly the opposite of being a director; it's trying to understand the unique perspective of the director. Not only that, the DP also has to do what he/she thinks is right, sometimes. It can be difficult to balance what you think is right and what the director is telling you. Again, it helps to be on the same wavelength as the director.

Camera Movement

I think my favorite example of camera movement is in the opening scene of Jurassic Park. There is a long, continuous shot in that scene of the velociraptor cage being lowered. The camera starts out looking at the trees, and then we see the cage come through the trees from beneath. The forklift drives past the camera and the camera follows it (it has to swivel up and then around almost 180 degrees). Finally the camera pulls up and back to a wide angle shot of the whole staging area. This was probably done with a crane.

What I think works about a really long, fluid camera movement like that is it allows the viewer to see everything almost instantly. Of course, it's moving in a way that a person wouldn't usually move in real life, but in a way this lends itself to a kind of almost hyper-realism. It gives the viewer the sense that they are being given an almost omniscient view of what is happening, which fits well with Jurassic Park because it's purpose (in my mind) is to show the viewer things that humans don't normally see. It also helps that the movement is very steady and fluid, and that the composition and framing are kept in good balance throughout.

Favorite DP: Robert Elswit

My favorite DP is Robert Elswit. He's DP'd films like Punch Drunk Love, There Will Be Blood, and Michael Clayton - all of which are some of my favorite movies, largely because of the way they look. What I like about him is that the images he creates are very complex; they often give off an air of stoicism, but at the same time there is a lot of emotion hidden underneath the surface.


The above image is from Punch Drunk Love. What I like about it is the way he creates smooth gradients out of everything. The whole frame is surrounded by a cloud of darkness. I think what you don't see in photograph is just as important as what you do see, and Elswit seems to be the master of hiding things.


This image is from Michael Clayton. As I alluded to earlier, Elswit's work often has a very subdued quality to it. Often, though not always, the colors in films he has DP'd are very drab and lifeless. There is a bit more color in this shot, but it still gives the viewer a very somber feeling. I think this is, again, due to the fact that parts of Clooney's clothes and face are obscured somewhat by shadows. The way he shoots objects and people leaves you wondering if they're really there.

Here's an interview of his that I found:

Here's a quote from that interview that I liked, talking about an out-of-focus shot in Good Night, and Good Luck: "We filmed it out and printed it and looked at it, and he went, 'Eh, that's fine.' He felt it helped the feeling of randomness, that the arbitrary framing and haphazard look would make it more authentic. So we're sitting there going 'Yes, but it's out of focus! Waaah!' But that whole style of shooting was trying to make it feel like we went in there and sort of captured the moments."

This quote, to me, shows how much thought Elswit puts into every shot. Not only that, but every shot has a purpose; it isn't merely there to look pretty or just chosen arbitrarily, but it has a meaning. It has something it's trying to convey. That's something I admire.

Tuesday, November 30, 2010

"Beautiful" Lighting

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This image is from The American Astronaut. It takes place in the beginning of the movie when the main character is entering a saloon (in space…) and we get to see the villain's reaction to his entrance. I find this image compelling because I think it portrays the convoluted, evil nature of the character very well. This is, in fact, a type of lighting that I'd very much like to imitate. It can have many different effects depending on the context, but in this case the sharp, partial lighting of his face creates a sense of foreboding. I think this is partly due to the uncertainty that it creates; you don't really know what the left side of his face is doing. And of course, darkness in western culture is usually associated with evil.


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This image is from The Big Lebowski. It's near the beginning of the movie, in the credits section that consists of a montage of images of people bowling. The whole thing is kind of tongue-in-cheek, because it's portraying a sport that most people don't take very seriously in a very serious light (pun intended). In most of the shots, it seems the director/DP are trying to portray bowling as a majestic, graceful sport. This shot perfectly embodies that idea to me. The way that everything is lined up in the shot perfectly to look like geometric patterns, the way the light from the overhead fluorescents creates wispy slices of light on everything - it all gives a sense of grace.


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This shot is from Good Night, and Good Luck. I think its purpose is similar to that of the shot from The Big Lebowski in that it is trying to present something in a very serious light, but unlike The Big Lebowski it is sincere. The very stark, high contrast shadows and the faint rimlight on his shoulder complement and sort of imitate the austere nature of the character and of the subject matter.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Alpha Contentment

Alpha Contentment from Levon Peirce on Vimeo.


This is a scene from the novel "Flow My Tears, The Policeman Said" by Philip K. Dick. It is about love and how it affects personal satisfaction.

Director: Levon Peirce
Director of Photography: Matt Phillips
Gaffer: Henry Busby

Ruth - Alana Nelson
Jason - Davis Campbell

Ending Music:
"Measure My Sleep" by Isaac Brock

Monday, October 4, 2010

ShotXShot Analysis: Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance

For my shot by shot scene analysis I chose to do a scene from Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance, a Chan Wook Park film - actually it's two scenes, but the first one was too short to do by itself and the two are very related. Here's some context for the scene: the main character, Ryu (the guy with the green hair), has a sister who's dying from a kidney illness. In spite of his sister's requests, he decides that he's going to donate one of his kidneys to her. In the following scene he's being told that they can't transplant his kidney because he doesn't have the right blood type.


This shot gives the viewer a very intimidating feeling, which is supposed to imitate Ryu's feelings at this moment. Ryu is deaf, so he's having a hard time reading the man's lips. Additionally, he's probably nervous being in such a formal environment. The fact of what the man across from him is saying obviously makes all of those things much worse. Therefore, the straight, head-on framing of the shot makes the man seem as if he is staring you straight in the eye. It confronts the viewer. The lighting is also very soft and yellow-greenish, which gives the impression of a drab, rainy day. This is probably intended to give the viewer a sense of the tragedy of what is happening.


This shot, and the one following it, are in the film to convey to the viewer that Ryu is reading the man's lips and that he is intensely focused on them. The tightness of the shot and the sort of spotlight-like lighting on his face add to this feeling of intense focus.


Here is a shot of the man's lips, which continues with the drab lighting scheme.


This shot is somewhat unsettling because of the way that the man's head is partially blocked by Ryu's. It highlights the awkwardness of the situation; Ryu is trying hard to understand what the man is saying and also not to become incredibly angry, and the other man is annunciating his words carefully so that he will be understood. There is also a very shallow depth of field which also gives the viewer an awkward feeling since the out of focus subject (Ryu) takes up so much of the frame.


In this shot the camera racks focus towards Ryu as he lets his head fall into his hands. However, there's a cut just before Ryu comes into focus. This gives the viewer a feeling of an attempt at resolution that fails. It mirrors Ryu's attempt to sooth himself by burying his face in his hands.


This shot, being as out of focus and muddled by rain as it is, gives the viewer a sense of being totally lost. This feeling reflects Ryu's feelings after learning that his kidney cannot be transplanted.


This shot is basically identical to the previous shot so I won't comment on it.


In this shot and the ones following it, Ryu is apparently venting his rage over what just happened in a batting cage. We can tell that he's angry because he's breathing heavily and his body buckles after each hit. This shot gives a very claustrophobic feeling. Like the earlier centered shot of the man at the clinic, it is intended to give the viewer a straight, direct look into the character. Because of the closeness of the shot and the shallow depth of field his anger seems closer to us. This magnifies it in a way - makes it more intense. We feel almost as if he's angry at us. The greenness of the shot and the directionality of the light also give it a very stark, intense, almost sickening feeling. It shows how bleak Ryu's world is.


This shot continues with the green light and the claustrophobic feeling.


The film returns to the initial shot of Ryu's face as he swings his bat. This shot is pretty much identical to the first one - the screengrab is from the part where Ryu is swinging. You can see his anger.


This shot is a relief after the bleak, claustrophobic look of the previous shots. It's still rather bleak, but not quite as much so because there isn't as much detail on one thing and there is more variety in the shot. Ryu isn't on any of the third's lines. As with most of the other shots, I think Park is trying to make the viewer uncomfortable. He is intentionally going against established norms in filmmaking in order to unsettle and surprise the viewer.


This shot continues with the bleak look of the previous shots and adds to it a feeling of loneliness. With Ryu left as a tiny figure in the shot, we are left with a huge, empty space. From this angle we're also able to see how dark it is outside of the sphere of the single, sickly light. It is a very desolate shot.

Monday, September 27, 2010

Portrait Lessons

One thing I learned from creating my portrait assignment was that the specifics of how a film turns out can be somewhat unpredictable. What I mean is that when you make a film, you try to control all the variables that you possibly can - but ultimately you cannot control everything. Part of what makes a good film, I think, is its ability to account for and take advantage of those things that the filmmakers couldn't control. Certainly there are varying degrees of control, from filmmaker to filmmaker. At this point I wouldn't say I am good at either of those abilities described above.


For example, Matt Phillips was the DP for my film. He strikes me as very capable of doing that job and he seemed to know what he was doing the whole time - and I thought we communicated and worked very well together. Nonetheless, after shooting the film I noticed several technical problems with the footage. Several shots were underexposed. The composition wasn't always really innovative or interesting. Some of the shots that we got only one take of (because they required props of which we had limited resources) went on too long or were imperfect in some way. At the time I felt like we both did a good job of keeping our eyes on what we were doing, and yet there are these problems.


I guess that just tells me that next time I need to be more obsessive about every shot. I would say something about my classmates work, but I've already written too much. I'll just say that it made me wish I'd done a better job on my film.

Monday, September 20, 2010

Itchy Nub

Itchy Nub from Levon Peirce on Vimeo.


This is a short film depicting an average day in my life. In it, you will see the everyday routines that I routinely execute and problems that I face daily in an everyday daily routine sort of way. Nothing that exciting, really.

Director - Levon Peirce
Director of Photography - Matt Phillips

Levon Peirce as Levon Peirce
Music by Levon Peirce

Shot with a JVC GY-HM100U.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Sony and JVC Camcorder Comparison

In working with the two HD cameras, I found that in general the picture from the JVC camcorder was sharper. That is only a subjective observation, though. There are other, more obvious reasons that I prefer the JVC. The mere fact that it uses an SD card is a huge advantage to me. It means that you don't have to deal with the peculiarities of tape. You don't have to worry about timecode breaks, which means that you can review your footage any time you want. This has come in handy quite a bit. You also don't have to capture the footage when you're done shooting, you simply copy the files.


Simply using solid-state media has advantages over using mechanically operated media. For example, an SD card can be written and rewritten a virtually unlimited number of times. A tape can be rewritten as well, but it can create timecode breaks and, in my experience, it can often create errors in the way it records the image. That is, you might see strange colored squares all around the screen at various times. Another advantage of the JVC camcorder is its ability to shoot in progressive scan. The Sony camcorder will only record in 1080i, whereas the JVC will record up to 1080p. From what I've read and what I've seen with my own eyes, there is pretty much no debate over the fact that 1080p produces a better image than 1080i.


On the other hand, there is one advantage that the Sony camcorder has over the JVC that is readily apparent to me, and that is its easier access to manual controls. The Sony camcorder has a ring both for focus and for zoom, whereas the JVC has only one ring that must be switched in order to control either focus or zoom. Because the Sony is slightly larger it also has more space for buttons, which means that some operations that require multiple button-pushes on the JVC can be done with only one button on the Sony. But these advantages are rather small considering that they really only mean that, in the case of the JVC, you need to plan out ahead of time what you need to do. The advantages of flash-based media far outweigh this slight disadvantage in my mind.

Monday, September 6, 2010

Goals in Filmmaking

My overall goal in filmmaking is to create something that is both interesting and different on one hand, but also something that will appeal to someone. I guess what I mean by that is that I want to create films that are striking and sometimes even shocking in the way that they portray things, but I want them to be based - if very loosely - on a foundation of knowledge about visual art and what "works." This is something that, I think, is going to require a lot of work.


I've been making movies my whole life - from the time when I first got my hands on a camcorder, which was when I was around 10. Yet, despite all that experience I don't really have a good handle on how to make "effective" images. As I alluded to in my other post, I am able to make visual art (drawings, paintings, etc.), but even with that I have sort of fallen out of practice and it seems I don't have a good "feel" for it anymore. So I guess one of the main things I hope to get out of this class is "practice."


I want to get some momentum going so that when I start a film I don't feel like I'm starting from scratch - so that I'll feel like it's already moving from the beginning. This is the way I feel about music. I create music often enough and am actively engaged in it to the point that when I sit down with a guitar I already have a framework to think in and I already have energy and enthusiasm which merely needs to be directed. This is something that I would like to develop with regards to film. Of course, part of what it takes to achieve that level of proficiency in film is technical proficiency. So I'm hoping that this class will teach me some of the technical details that I am a little unsure of or of which I'm not even aware.


Ultimately, though, practice is the main goal. In my experience, practice is the key to any art. Practice teaches you the limits of the medium you're working in, and it teaches you what you like. It teaches you how what you do affects the result, and through this process you learn what your goals are as an artist and what you want to do that is unique. Of course I've had plenty of practice with film/video already, but most of it was unguided and not really aware of what was already out there. So I need some guidance as well.

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

My Visual Style or: Sentimental Tripe

As you will see throughout this post, my visual taste is largely a very common, very sentimental one. True, I like strange camera angles and startling juxtapositions and such, but I have to admit that for the most part my tastes are similar to others in that I like "pretty" images. You will see what I mean.


Above is a still from Ghost Dog. As clichéd as it may sound, one of the things that draws me to Jim Jarmusch is his ability to find beauty in the ordinary. There's something about shots like this (which often run rather long in Jarmusch's work, though this one is comparatively short) that gives you a feeling of having your eyes wide open. Even though you see images like this every day, when you see it on film it somehow makes it more significant. The basic concept is not all that different from Duchamp's Fountain. There's something hypnotizing about Jarmusch's work, and that's definitely something to which I aspire.


The above shot is from Jurassic Park, a film that I love and have loved ever since I saw it when I was 5. It has a few characteristics which I greatly admire, though I have seldom if ever been able to reproduce them in my own work. First of all, the lighting is beautiful - the way the light covers only the edges of Muldoon's face and leaves the rest barely visible, and the way the light is broken up (presumably by the leaves within the diegesis, though I'm not sure if that's how the effect was actually achieved). It also uses shallow focus to bring attention to Muldoon, simultaneously having the effect of looking very pretty (to me, at least). It also has a nice composition; the focal points generally fall along rule of thirds lines, and it also has a cool asymmetrical thing going which seems to lend some force to the image.
One thing I admire about Spielberg's work in general - though maybe it's more his cinematographers who deserve the credit - is the way objects in his film give the viewer an instant, powerful sense of 3D space. That's another thing that I've never been able to do in my own work.

This image is from Michael Clayton. Some context is needed to explain why I like this image. Just prior to this shot is a long stretch of time that is dominated by yelling and screaming and legal issues being discussed. This image is in very stark contrast to that - it's extremely peaceful and simple. It's like a breath of fresh air after the nastiness of the previous 30 minutes or so. Another way in which it is a strange juxtaposition is that the earlier shots are dominated by manmade objects - buildings, cars, expensive suits, sharp corners everywhere. An image of nature after all of that sort of brings it into perspective.
That's one of the things I like about juxtaposition; it sometimes allows you to see things in a different way than if you saw each of them alone. Sometimes this allows you to realize something that, although it was staring you right in the face already, you wouldn't have noticed otherwise. Besides all that, it's also just a very aesthetically pleasing image to anyone who finds nature beautiful.

This is a picture I took in Fort Walton Beach, Florida a while ago (before the oil spill). I was trying to get a closeup picture of this bird (an egret or something like that?) but it kept flying away every time I got close to it. One of the times it flew away I just happened to take this picture as it was flying, and I kind of liked it. For a while now I've been interested in the idea of images that capture things in mid-action. Its surprising to see things that way because we are used to seeing things happen all the way through, especially in films. It's also interesting because it gives you a different sort of view of motion. When you see something that is already in motion, you start to wonder about what motion itself is and what it means. Again, besides all that it's just an image that pulls at my heartstrings. The sunset making the waves look almost golden in parts, the gracefulness of the bird - these are things that I like but cannot really explain why.

This is another picture I shot myself, probably some time around 2005. It was taken in Madison, Alabama just outside of a Japanese restaurant called Edo. I've altered the colors a bit in Photoshop, but I didn't add or take anything away from it. Anyone who has ever seen my drawings or paintings knows that explosions and explosion-like images are a very strong theme in my art. It isn't hard to imagine that this image is of some huge explosion in the sky, though it's really just the sunset filtering through the clouds.
Someone suggested to me once that explosions are one of those kinds of images that are inherent to the human psyche. It certainly seems to me that whenever I start drawing an abstract image it almost inevitably becomes an explosion, though maybe that's just me. In any case, it isn't hard to see why an explosion in art can be construed as some sort of emotional outpouring. I believe that emotion is the core of all art. Even art that is seemingly emotionless is usually notable for its lack of emotion, so in a way it's referencing it. I think everyone wants to explode sometimes, and everyone (even pacifists) secretly thinks explosions are cool. An explosion is the epitome of energy, and art needs to have energy.

At this point I've already said a lot about what my personal aesthetic is, but I'll summarize it here. I like images that are full of emotion or that produce a strong emotional response; it doesn't really matter what the emotion is, only that it is strong. A lot of this has to do with what the human eye is naturally drawn to, although culture certainly plays a role in this as well. I also like images that are startling or strange in a way that causes you (if you're thinking) to reexamine the way you view things and maybe even the way you think about the world. I like to subvert people's expectations - to use them against those people in many cases.
Although, as I said in the beginning of this post, I am not that different from most people in that I like sentimental images, I don't believe that art should be about pleasing people. I believe that art should be about the new. By new I mean things that have never been experienced before. Sometimes that means introducing people to new pleasures they have never known before, but it also involves challenging them. Newness is what makes life worth living, even if it isn't easy. Newness can be painful at first, but ultimately it is rewarding.

I realize that I've written well beyond 250 words, but once I got started I found it difficult to stop. I apologize for that.

Monday, August 23, 2010

10 Favorite Things

I can't really think of a good introduction to this, so I'll just start.

Here are my 10 favorite movies, ranked relative to one another.

1. Jurassic Park
2. The Big Lebowski
3. Akira
4. WALL•E
5. Neo Tokyo (Meikyu Monogatari)
6. Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance
7. Michael Clayton
8. Scott Pilgrim vs. the World
9. The American Astronaut
10. Pulp Fiction