Wagstaff: Haiku 2006
The movies I saw
In a theater last year
I count on one hand.
Monster House traded
Three-dimensional graphics
For zoom lens effects.
Mark Wahlberg inside
Damon's apartment -- his feet
In stealth-like baggies.
Miami Vice jumped
In medias res, spinning
Flashy, tricked-out rims.
Cars' scenic vistas
Of the open road made a
Sheryl Crow song work.
Casino Royale's
Title song was maligned, but
Matched recent Garbage.
Each Wire's season
Was thematically whole.
Most satisfying.
I was glad I saw
Captain Turner's eye pop out
On a fuzzy tape.
________________________
Read House's Wagstaff
at Edward Copeland on Film
and Liverputty.
posted by Matt Zoller Seitz at 1:50 AM
9 Comments:
"Brutal fucking murder!":
A woman cries while
the rabbits seek out Grace.
The Daily Planet's
Globe cradled on blue shoulders:
This Atlas can't shrug.
The Good Shepherd spies,
Schemes, kills, but never connects; Conscience in a bottle.
The plane goes down,
as does my spirit; no hope
of being Bourne again.
The whip-lash gut-punch
shot my limbs across the screen
Pollack-style: everywhere.
Hate on me, shame you.
Nacho could not win, ever.
Gimme School Of Rock.
An all day event:
wrecked routes through rain, mud, ugly
made bleak see beauty.
Haiku, I hate you
You are too hard
to do right.
JJ
Soldier on, JJ.
It's not a challenge, it's an
Opportunity.
<< Home