On Predictability and Viability

I'm not the type to say I told you so in writing, but if you've read anything here this week, you'll know that I'm not surprised and not displeased by the David Blatt hiring from the Cavs.  It's a little bit of a gamble, but it's a little bit of a genius all-or-nothing move.  That's as Cleveland as it gets.  Or at least it should be.  It's at least how I see the younger generation here: making the well-informed gamble, because the old way of doing things with limited resources (IE, doing the same thing everyone else does, but worse because it's all we can afford) just doesn't cut it anymore. 

I just hope my LeBron tea-leaf reading lines up with my Blatt prediction.  Granted, there was a lot more to go on with Blatt. 

We're just under a week from the draft now, and I promise, next Friday or Saturday is the latest I'll write a post about nothing but Basketball for awhile.  I might even try to roll something else in in the meantime. 

But for now, I got this one right, and I think the Cavs did too. 

One underrated (in other words, heretofore unmentioned elsewhere) aspect of the Blatt hire is the sorts of places he's worked: Israel, Russia, Hungary: he's worked in places that put the blue-collarness of Cleveland to shame.  He's seen the best and the worst of what Europe has to offer.  There's going to be no pretention about the guy.  He's on record as saying he went to Europe because he wasn't good enough to play in the NBA.  He worked his way up from next to nothing in the basketball world.   That's a good thing for someone moving to Cleveland.  He'll appreciate the grittiness and the struggle. David Blatt's career is not unlike a rollicking metaphor for Cleveland's last 40 years. Sure, Tyron Lue would be happy just to have a chance as an NBA coach.  But he's spent two years in LA and some time in Boston before that.  I'm not saying he'd be opposed to being in Cleveland, but he has ridden some pretty expansive coattails to nearly guaranteed success year in and year out under Doc Rivers.  I'm sure he'll be a fine head coach someday (actually, I have no idea, I'm just saying that because it's the sort of thing you say at this point in this sort of paragraph), but Blatt fits Cleveland a little better. 

I had to talk myself into Mike Brown.  I feel like I'm struggling to dislike anything about this move.  He doesn't have NBA head coaching experience.  But either did Greg Popovich when he took over the Spurs.  If Blatt is 1/5th as successful, Cleveland will be euphoric.

-Zack

On LeBron

I learned in 2010 that predicting what LeBron James will do is a fool's game.  He's a person who keeps his decisions close to the vest.  That being said, it made perfect sense after the fact, given a few tips LeBron left, but might not have known he left.

LeBron was always adamant that he wouldn't talk about his impending free agency.   Nothing has changed there.  At the time, I took what he said for what it was worth: he didn't want to discuss the future during the season.  And then he left.  It could just as easily been that he was planning on leaving but knew he couldn't admit that during the season if he wanted to continue the Cavs quest for a championship. It's easy to see it that way now, true or not.

But LeBron did talk about one thing that season: his number.  At some point, and I think it was actually right after the Cavs had pummelled the Heat in Miami, LeBron claimed he'd be changing his number, and that he believed every team in the league should retire 23 in honor of Michael Jordan (which, by the way, makes Jordan's public schoolyard jibing of LeBron all the more galling: MJ passes up no chance to denigrate his greatest supporter.  Stay classy MJ, and keep drafting less than mediocre UNC grads far too high).

 

It's a strangely little known fact that the Heat, at that point, had only retired 2 numbers: 13 for Dan Marino, and 23 for Michael Jordan.  Neither of which ever played for the Heat, but who's keeping track?  Saying what he did about league-wide retirement, when only one team, at this point, has done that, was among the clearest ways LeBron could have said he's going to Miami without coming right out and saying it.  We all missed it though.  I mean, I'm sure someone in Miami or some backwater internet locale might have pieced it together.  But we wouldn't have believed it then anyway.  Everytime I say we in this, I mean the general public, but more specifically, the general Cleveland public. 

 

Fast-forward four years.  It doesn't look like anything so clear ever came out.  LeBron is still deflecting talk.  He said recently that he owes it to his teammates to talk to them before making a decision.  That could just as easily mean he owes it to them to tell them he's leaving first.  That's a graciousness he never gave the Cavs, so it would mean he's learned from his mistakes.

 

Once more though, LeBron has taken a stab at league wide policies.    He's talked a few times about how he thinks he deserves a max deal at some point in his career (a tautology if there ever was one).  He's also said that he thinks he'd make 50 million a year if there weren't a max level in the NBA.  Maybe I'm reading the tea leaves too much, but that sounds a bit like the number retirement talk.  LeBron feels like he deserves more money.  That's never easy to hear from a multi-millionaire, but if it's ever been true of any multi-millionaire, it's LeBron.  He's worth 4-5 times what he's getting paid.  No matter how set for life you are, there's a level of professional pride in making what you deserve.

 

Certainly, it could still all just be that he's meaning exactly what he says, and he has no idea.  That would appear to break with how he handled things in 2010.  Was the jersey number thing dispositive proof back then?  Well, it did turn out to be true.  Who can say if his mind was already made up?  It probably, at least, proves that he was thinking about Miami as a destination at that point. 

 

It does feel like we have less to go on this time around.  That's fine too: LeBron is a human who can make his own decisions as late or early as he'd like.  But everyone around the Heat has made it sound like an era is over.  Whatever happens, there's going to be a shift out of this Big Three world.  Maybe it's a new Big Three for LeBron in another city, or maybe it's LeBron and 11 guys not on the roster right now.  Last time LeBron made a speech about the way things should be, he ensured that he wasn't part of the problem as soon as he could and switched his number.  Could he do the same and at least insist on getting max money somewhere?

 

It's still a fact that LeBron keeps a house in Bath Township and spends as much time there as possible.  He can obviously afford the nicest temporary home wherever he lives, but there's a pretty clear indicator that Akron is his home and no matter how far his career takes him, he'll always return.  Maybe he's reached a time in his life where being home, actually home, most nights, is more important than a scorched earth pursuit of titles.  Honestly, Cleveland+LeBron is probably better than Miami-LeBron, even last years iterations.  Did it really look, even when they were blowing the Pacers off the court, like that team could win 30 games without LeBron? 

 

From a basketball perspective, LeBron is almost too good.  He can say he wants to go where he's in the best position for a title, but wherever he goes automatically becomes that.  He could go to Boston or Milwaukee and they would be contenders.  It's not just because of how good he is, but how easy it becomes to get quality free agents when he's there.  That was as enduring a theme during the Miami run as the Big Three itself.  Teams in the lottery this season almost invariably have more than enough cap space to add LeBron and 2 or 3 of the top other non-max Free Agents (or better).  This is professional basketball.  It doesn't take much more than that with the right coach.  When we're talking about "the right situation" some are probably better than others.  But LeBron is so good and so attractive, he could make even the worst team better than almost (if not) every other team.  I think he knows that, because he's now experienced it.   Why did the Spurs beat the Heat then?  Because they're the Spurs.  They had the right amount of a chip on their shoulder, rest, and the best coach in the world strategizing for a whole year.  That's what it takes to beat LeBron on an otherwise lottery-caliber team.  Imagine LeBron with the first overall pick in "the best draft in decades" and last year's all-star game MVP.  That's a big 3 better than any combination Miami put forward this year (seeing Dwyane Wade is barely a shell of the shell of his former self). 

 

Cleveland or not though, LeBron's actions now seem to suggest that he's in a similar place as 2010.  The results may, in fact, mirror those.  I don't know that he'll come back, but it seems, right now, that the smart money might actually be on him leaving.  We don't have much evidence, but what we do have, and what we know about the past, suggest it. 

 

I'd say he probably at least opts out and demands a max deal requiring Wade and Bosh to opt out and take cuts so they can still get the right free agents to be competitive again.  If they don't opt out, I don't see him returning to Miami: he rightfully feels like he deserves a max contract and will go where he can get one. 

 

Those are my thoughts at least; only time will tell.

-Zack

Help Wanted: In Search of a Coach

Outside the box, for sure.

I know I don't typically post specifically about sports on a more than macro level.  When I do though, it does tend to be about the Cavs.

After Cleveland was up in arms about how long it took the Browns to hire a coach, the Cavs are getting all sorts of good press for their prolonged search.  In the best light, Cleveland fans are like parents who understand which child responds to what correction/praise best.  In the worst light, we pick narratives and define whatever we see through them.  The Browns are weak and shiftless, so their search looked indecisive.  The Cavs are run by an impulsive mad-man, so their search looks refreshingly thoughtful.

I believe the Browns were being thoughtful and that this current search is actually either needlessly prolonged or a smoke screen.

The man pictured above, who is giving new meaning to the word "blazer," is David Blatt, the outgoing coach of Maccabi Tel Aviv: essentially the San Antonio Spurs of the Euro-league (in the well-coached, winning when they shouldn't on paper sense).  He's a Princeton Alum who never got a shot in the NBA, so he went abroad and became Europe's Phil Jackson.

For years, the NBA has been importing the best Euro players (often to great success, sometimes to Ricky Rubio mediocrity or Christian Eyenga irrelevance).  After communism wasted Arvydas Sabonis, there's always been a steady stream.  Now, for the first time, the Cavs are thinking about importing the best Euro Coach, even if he is an American.

I'll be honest, like most of Cleveland and the U.S., I had no idea who David Blatt was about a week ago.  But he's quickly become my favorite for the job.  The other options have coached in the NBA but none of them have championship.   0.  Indeed, the amount of coaches who end up winning championship on their 2nd or 3rd NBA job is very low, especially if they were fired from their first.  I've always liked George Karl's style, but I don't want to lose in the 2nd round of the playoffs every year.  I was impressed when the Grizzlies made their run over the last few seasons, but surprise second place finishes seem to be Lionel Hollins' ceiling.  Mark Jackson could be the aberration because he never quite got to finish his run and wasn't fired for anything on the court.  As it sits though, I get the sense that all of the guys with coaching experience available don't have what it takes to win a Finals series.  Granted, it seems that you either have to have LeBron or a pact with the devil (how else could Popovich keep whatever he's doing up?) to do that these days, but I'd rather give someone a shot to see what they've got, then sign up for likely failure before the season even starts.

David Blatt knows what it takes to win in Europe.  That's not the NBA, but if we're so sure Colt McCoy got a raw deal because "he's a winner" we need to give Blatt the same benefit of a doubt.  That doesn't fit the aforementioned Cleveland sports narratives we love as a city, but it's the rational step.

As I said, I think this all might have been a smoke screen, all of the interviews with assistants and old coaches.  You see, though the Cavs failed to snag Calipari (before they officially fired Mike Brown...), and though it's been about a month, Blatt has only been on the open market for about a week, since his team wrapped up their title early last week.  David Griffin seems like the nicest guy in the world, but he also seems like the guy most likely to actually be a vampire.  What I mean by that is that you get the sense he's always up to something.  It's never something you see coming (Spencer Hawes?  It's so unexpected but it was perfect.  The Cavs make the playoffs last year if they execute that trade last off-season instead of signing Bynum).

Word on the street is that Griffin has done a lot of Euro scouting so he's been familiar with Blatt for quite some time.  Could it be that Blatt was the plan from the start (post-Calipari at least) but the Cavs had to buy time til they could talk to him?

I'm not saying it's a done deal, but I've got my suspicions.  If they hire him quickly, it will seem pretty clear that he was the number 1 guy and the interview answered any questions they had.  I don't think that's an outlandish thought at all.

So what does it mean then?  It means the Cavs will either christen a new era in NBA coaching or close the door for Euro coaches forever.  I don't really care about that: I want the Cavs to win a championship.  Will the Euro style work here?  I honestly don't see why not.  I think concentrating on how styles work in a certain league is a bit misguided.  It's not so much about if a style works as it is can you run it consistently enough to put up points and keep the other team from putting up more.  That's facile, certainly, but if it scores points, it can work with the right personnel.

I'm no Mike D'Antoni fan, but his teams never won a title because he only coached half a game: same with Mike Brown.  It's not about style as much as it is wholeness of competence.  The 2 Mikes who got fired this year would make 1 great coach.  Unfortunately, half a coach won't win a title, even with LeBron or Nash/Amare in their primes.  Erik Spoelstra proves everyday that you can win titles with decentish schemes on both ends of the floor, but you can't with elite defense but terrible offense, and the reverse.  That's why Popovich would be deified upon retirement, if Adam Silver were Ovid.

In the end, like everyone in Cleveland, I just want a title.  I'd prefer a Cavs title first, because I'm a bigger NBA fan than any other sport.  But if the Indians pull it together, or the Browns shock the world first, I'd take that too.

As a city, we need to realize that the goal is a championship parade down Euclid, to end the bleeding of our City's collective sports heart.  That's more important than how it's done (save for illegally or point-shavingly, of course).

If David Blatt can do it, I'll take it.  If a pink pony from Portugal named Petunia was the coach and got the job done, I'd be fine with that too.  Deep down, I think we all would.

-Zack

Summering

For my summer internship, I'm required to write a weekly blog.  Feel free to check it out at

http://dwellworksinternship2014.blogspot.com/

I find myself writing about Cleveland most of the time.  You can read only my contributions by clicking "legal" at the top.  Or you can read them all and see how the other interns are finding the summer as well.

-Zack

A Cleveland Holiday

I wish I had more time to write, and perhaps I will soon, but it is finals season at the old law school, and times the last thing I feel like I have most days, at least over these two weeks.  But I had a final this morning, so I've got a bit of time this afternoon.

Tomorrow, as anyone following Cleveland sports at all, is the NFL Draft.  It's a bit of a joke around town, that the draft is the most important day of the year, every single year.  If our team could actually win, logic goes, we'd be able to talk about that instead.  That's true.  As a life-long Packers fan, I spent the majority of my life before moving Cleveland without much mind for the draft at all.

And yet, here we are, on draft-day's eve, and it feels like tomorrow is opening day or something.

It is easy to make fun of Cleveland for putting so much stock into a bunch of players who haven't set foot on an NFL field yet.  Perhaps, to a degree, it's not entirely undue.  But there's also something noble in it.

Other cities with such sustained runs of high draft picks would probably stop caring about their team, much less the draft, at some point.

But for Cleveland to still, year in and out, put so much stock into a day that represents nothing but possibilities says something about the city's spirit.  It's about hope.

That's the heart of what I love about Cleveland.  Even if what happens doesn't always work out-- in the case of the NFL draft, it's barely worked out at all since 1999 (and most of the time before: don't forget that Bernie Kosar was not a traditional draft pick).  But Cleveland hasn't given up hope.

Perhaps its because we're all just too into football and will take anything we can get, even if that's (probably unfulfilled) hope in the middle of April (or beginning of May, as it is this year).  That might be true.

But there's more to it.  If it was just a football-fix, it wouldn't fixate and excite everyone so much.  We don't give up, even when so many others would.  We con't give up even when so many others say we should.

And that's what makes Cleveland Cleveland, all sports aside.

Too bad I have a final Friday morning so tomorrow night is a bit less than convenient...

-Zack

Home

3 years ago this month, I moved to Cleveland, via Swanton, Ohio, Hillsdale, Michigan, Ottawa, Ohio, and Wooster, Ohio.  For good measure, I can throw Findlay in, as a quasi-home that I've never actually had a permanent residence in.  Though I live in all of those places and more prior to moving to Cleveland, Ottawa, for all its worth, is my "hometown."  It's where I grew up, its where the farm I so often cite in stories about my childhood is, and its where I went to high school.

Last week, for Easter, we went back to Findlay and Lima to visit my grandma and my future child's grandma (aka my mother-in-law).  Every time we get back to northwestern Ohio, I think about all of the great things you can do there that you can't do in Cleveland.  That's a little ridiculous, if you've ever been to Findlay, Lima, or Ottawa, because Cleveland is larger than all 3 put together, particularly from a diversity and cultural standpoint.  As you can see, the Putnam County flag is pretty close to the confederate flag.  That's much less shocking than you might think, for a county literally 3 hours from Canada.

But even so, there are things back "home" that you can't get in Cleveland.  Kewpie (Lima) burgers are still the best fast-food burgers in the world; Main Street Deli (Findlay) could hold its own even in Cleveland's crowded deli-sandwich scene, and Pizzeria (Ottawa) would be my favorite pizza in Cleveland if it were here.  I don't know if my opinions on all of those are at all objective: but its the stuff I grew up with and its the stuff that, sometimes, I crave because you just can't get it here.  I should also note that, even though a "Titan Burger" is essentially a Big Mac made at a local ice cream stand (in Ottawa), my mouth still waters at the thought of it, even though I could get a pretty close approximation all over the place.  But it's just not the same.  You long for the things you grew up with.

But despite all of my cravings for things back home, (including non-food experiences, like sitting around a fire in someone's backyard, drinking busch light, with the closest neighbor miles away, or running into people you vaguely remember at the gas station and talking with a faux-southern accent), more and more, "back home" isn't very much home lately.

About a year before I moved to Cleveland, my mom left our family.  Though it would be easy to say it was a standard divorce sort of thing from my dad, it was really a complete walk-away from our entire family.  I've talked to her maybe 4 times since, and it is never more than barely polite.  Ever since, home, or whatever notion I had of it, just hasn't been the same.  Even if I'm in the backyard of a farmhouse on road M-10, drinking a busch light while the fire blazes, waiting for the pizzeria to deliver our pizza and crazy bread, there's not so much home to go back to when I go "back home."  In its own way, I suppose Ottawa, Findlay, Lima, etc. will always feel like home. But it hasn't been the same since my mom left.  There will always be a gap between what growing up was, with how my family is (or isn't) now.  So many of my memories and feelings toward northwestern Ohio are tied to a conception of life and family that doesn't exist for me anymore, because the family I grew up in doesn't really exist anymore.

And it is with that background that I came to Cleveland.  And it is in Cleveland that I'm finding the home I'd lost.  It could simply be a product of the facts: this is where my wife found a job, this is where we live, and this is where we're starting our own family.  I'm sure that is a part of it.  But more broadly, there is much more to it.

I've always said that something I love about Cleveland are the times when you get the sense that we're all in this together.  At a sporting event, at a festival, whatever it may be, there's a certain love for this place and a will to see it rebound and thrive that ties everyone together.  That is when Cleveland is at its best.  For me, thats the lifeblood on which I thrive myself.  It doesn't matter where you came from in Cleveland (at least when Cleveland is being the best version of itself)  If you've chosen to make this your home, you become "one of us."  It is very much the opposite of the cloistered German-American society I grew up in (I literally knew 0 white people besides my (technically adoptive) grand parents and extended family on my dad's side who weren't German.  As a complete side note, it's interesting that Ottawa, which was one of the earliest reservations for the Ottawa Indian Tribe, is now a sort of de facto reservation for German Catholics).  As my own home from my whole life faded into nothingness, Cleveland became a place where I could be who I am to this point, and become who I'll be moving forward.

There's a place for everyone in Cleveland.  And that's a good thing, because Cleveland needs everyone it can get.  It will always be a wild ride, as we struggle with our systemic problems that lead to poverty, homelessness, and scads of  condemned and decrepit buildings.  But there's a camaraderie in the struggle.  As Cleveland engages in its own fresh start, it grants us all the opportunity to do the same.  There's a circular beauty there.  Home is where the heart is, they say.  Perhaps, my whole life, my heart was here, and I just didn't know it.  Cleveland is my home now, and in many ways, more than anywhere else ever was.

Now, if we could just get rid of "Wahoo"....

-Zack

Don't Call it a Comeback

Unless this is your first time reading this, you're probably noticing the new look, and the entirely new concept.  But if this isn't your first time reading this, it's probably not all that unfamiliar.  I've realized, since getting married and starting law school, that I don't really write personal blogs all that much anymore.  Sometimes I do, but most of the time, even then, it's more like a way to share extended thoughts with friends far and wide on a level at least a little deeper than Facebook.

For the most part though, for quite some time, I've realize that I focus on a just a few things: entertainment, sports, food, but mostly, Cleveland.

Since moving here, even when I try to think about other topics, my thoughts always devolve back to what it means for this city that's propped up a spot in my heart.  So I decided, for better or worse, to actually dedicate my blog, for the foreseeable future, to writing about Cleveland- the people, places, things I encounter, the stories I hear, the thoughts and feelings it stirs inside me.  This is where my life is now.  I've hitched my future to Cleveland's future, so I thought I'd chronicle it, best I can, along the way.

But why "Post-Modern?"  3 reasons really:

1. The term itself is perfect for where Cleveland is now.  Ever since the seventies, Cleveland has been struggling to attain an unfulfilled promise of greatness.  Industry built Cleveland, and now the city, still, strives to reach its past by reinventing itself for the 21st century.

2.  Timing.  For better or worse, we've been in the "post-modern" era since the sixties as a society (or longer, depending on what you're looking at), and the tenants of post-modernity (namely non-centrality) have finally broken into the subconscious of adults.  Cleveland is going to be shaped by those people.  By "those people" I mean "us" because I'm right there in it.

3. Diversity.  Cleveland is a fractured city when you look at it up close.  East-West, White-Black, rich-poor.  But Cleveland somehow pulls it all together.  No matter where you're from or where you're going, Cleveland's shared sense of striving and pushing forward for the greater good brings people together here.  People, individually, are very different from each other.  But when Cleveland is at its best, those differences combine to make something strong, something tenable and beautiful.  Cleveland's identity is hard to pin down, because it is defined by so many people who are not like one another.  Like any big city, that's not always an easy fact: there is plenty of racism, sexism, and "side-ism" to go around.  But Cleveland has the potential to be truly cosmopolitan and communal, because we're all in this together in ways that cities without so much shared struggle don't have to be.

Federico Fellini once said that he never really saw the world til he look at it through the lens of a movie camera.  Well, I'm not a filmmaker, but I like to write.  So here I am, starting a journey to look at Cleveland and document what I find, to maybe see it a little better, to understand the people more, and to give a voice to the comeback.  Comeback though, is not the right word.  The industry won't come back.  Rebirth, perhaps, after a decentering and deconstruction, as something bigger, stronger, and better than ever before.

-Zack

We Must Try to Live

Two weeks ago, we saw Hayao Miyazaki’s last film “The Wind Rises.”  It is, in many ways, the most unique of Miyazaki’s prolific career.  If you have seen anything else (Spirited Away, Kiki’s Delivery Service, Princess Mononoke, to name a few) by Miyazaki, the obvious expectation is something set in an out-of-this-world, fantastic universe, with magical creatures or spirits or witches.  Even Ponyo and Princess Mononoke, both actually set in “real world” Japan, featured mystical spirits and talking animals.  The Wind Rises has none of that.  Other than some magical dream sequences, there’s not really a hint of magic.  But even in its real-world trappings, The Wind Rises is nothing if not magical.

Set before, during, and after World War II, the film tells the story of an aspiring aeronautical engineer, who wants to make the world a better place but is forced to create the next great figher plane for Japan’s war efforts.  I won’t really retell more of the plot than I have to, but the whole film centers on a translated french quote: Le vent se leve, il faut tenter de vivre: translated as “The wind rises, we must try to live (though more literally the wind rises, I must try living) from Paul Valery’s poem “The Cemetary by the Sea.”   It seems to me that the entire film is a sort of meditation on that line.   It’s a movie about war without being a war movie: in many ways, it offers a frank, anti-japanese-government-but-pro-japanese take on WWII that doesn’t surface very much in the US.   But the point never quite seems to be about politics. 

Because it’s a Miyazaki movie, you could just mute it and be dazzled by the animation: this time, he shows his expertise at animating the flight, the wind, and all of its effects.  But because it is a Miyazaki film, all of that visual splendor affects the film’s artistry beyond its dazzling shots and animation. 

The wind rises, and it is beautiful when it does.  But there is always a crash or a landing: but even a landing is an end to the flight.  As a film about an engineer, Jiro, there’s a certain sadness, even to his success.  The planes are meant to kill people, even though that is never what their creator wanted, it was the only way he could express his creativity.  There is no other option for Jiro: he has to create planes because it is the purpose of his life.  There’s no other option: the film is not even a meditation on determinism: it’s just that simple: Jiro exists to create planes, even if they are figther planes for a war he doesn’t want.  The wind rises.  He must try to live.  If it weren’t for the wind, there could be no flight.  If it weren’t for the war, there could be no outlet for his creativity.  The wind rises, so he must try to live.

At a point in the movie, Jiro falls in love with a woman who is terminally ill: but they are in love, so they must marry and make it work as much as they can: the wind rises, they must try to live.  It’s simply that basic: there are things in life they can control: their marriage and life in it, and things in life they can’t: both that they love each other and that she is dying.  That’s the dualism of the film: the wind rises, and we must try to live despite it.  But if it weren’t for the wind, there would be no flight, no planes, no life as Jiro knows and needs it (and, without putting much more plot into this, know that, were it not for the wind, Jiro would have never met his eventual wife). 

I’m not one much for message movies as such.  Just look at my post about the Oscars: 12 Years a Slave and Philomena were, to me, vastly overrated because of their message.  But I am not opposed to a film having a message: actually, I think any work of art probably does in some way, if it is truly a work of actual artistic expression. 

Hayao Miyazaki is one of the greatest living cinéartistes: it is no surprise that all of his films are high art in one way or another.  Though not may favorite of his work (Spirited Away is a masterpiece among masterpieces), The Wind Rises may be his most poignant film.  It has a clear message, in that “the wind rises, we must try to live” but it never tells you what that means: it shows you what it means.  That is great art.  Jiro’s life is a story of overcoming obstacles, but at the end of the film, it’s not as if he’s some kind of champion engineer living happily ever after.  At the end of the film, Jiro’s career is over, most of his planes have been destroyed (“that’s what happens when you lose a war” one of the characters says): but for what it was, while it was, Jiro can only say thank you for all he had, even if he has nothing to show for it now.  The wind rose, he lived.  It’s not about the end result for Jiro, it’s about how he lived while the wind was rising.  Like the planes he built, they either crashed or landed, but none of them flew forever.  For 35 years, Miyazaki rode the wind too.  Though most would, by all accounts, call him a huge success with plentty to show for it, it seems he cherishs the memories of the act of creation most, if we are to take any of The Wind Rises as a message from him.  (and it’s impossible not to, seriously). 

In that regard, The Wind Rises is appropriately unAmerican.  It’s not about the end result, it’s not about winning or losing.  It is about living while the wind is rising, succeed or fail.  Wars, disease, loss of loved ones, unintended and adverse goals set by authorities beyond our control all come in life: and they meet parts of us we can’t help: the temperment we’ve been given, the skills, talents, ideas, the people we love, the families we have: they all come together, the wind rises and falls with all of them.  But it’s the attempt to live within all of that, while we’ve still got the chance, that matters most.

None of The Wind Rises ever says any of that.  The entire film shows all of it.

 

-Zack

Ten Restaurants You Have to Try, in (and around) Cleveland

If you’ve ever seen the movie “High Fidelity,” you’ve probably thought about creating a bunch of lists, just as a sort of way to catalogue your life.  After 15 years, it seems like the entire internet is finally getting around to that back-of-the-mind goal.  Buzzfeed uses the list as a means to communicate, CNN does its best to copy the format (and CNN’s best is not very good).  Everywhere you look, all over the internet, there are lists. 

 

It makes sense: lists are digestible: they can communicate a lot of information in a nicely-chunked up format that people can either choose to read entirely, or just scan and see the rundown.  As society  moves toward an increasingly game-like system, in which everything is turned into a mini-competition to increase productivity (it’s true, and I think it’s a good thing), there’s something inherently appealing about the list as a means of organization and communication with an implicit eye toward competition. 

 

I’m not one for brevity, and I’m not generally one for trendy writing.  I typically want to perfect my own style for its own sake than please the reader.   It’s like the difference between Fireball Whiskey and Jefferson Rye.  One is really popular right now and appeals to the current drinker (at least on Cleveland’s Westside…); but the other is a time-tested recipe, honed toward perfection for the last 300 years.  It has less mass appeal, but it is better at being itself.  Ultimately, that’s what I want, to be better at being myself.

All of that said, I thought I’d make a list, every now and then, because it is fun to make lists.  So here’s my first, roughtly approximated to the ten places I’ve enjoyed eating most since moving to Cleveland.  It’s not a ranking really, just an homage.  It’s also probably the “10 Best Restaurants in Cleveland” as would be determined by Cleveland magazine or the plain dealer.  Theses are ten of my favorites, for the unique reasons I’ll explain.  Most of all though, they are suggestions you should try next time you’re in Cleveland. 

 

(I’m still working on not being the type of writer who has to thoroughly preface everything, or at least to be better at being that type of writer.  I’m not sure).

 

10.  Crop, Ohio city (New American Cuisine)

                Built in a monstrous old bank building, a vestige of Ohio City’s old place as an actual part of downtown, Crop one of the most unique settings you’ll find in Cleveland.   Much of the early-twentieth century bank-skyscraper trappings remain: the original ceiling, floor, and artwork still adorn the space.  When we went, we got to sit at the “chef’s table;” a real treat: getting to see a busy kitchen.  If you go, I highly recommend the “chef’s table” if it’s available.  It’s like sitting at the bar, but instead of the drink prep area, you’re looking in on the kitchen at work.  Though that might sound a bit like subway, it’s much more like performance art.  It even came with an amusée bouche: an incredible pork belly bite topped with peppers and a dressing.  I had an incredible fried pork chop for dinner, but the best dish was probably our olive and goatcheese flatbread.  It balanced the two tangy twins perfectly with dates, greens, and an incredible, flaky but crispy crust.

9. Greenhouse Tavern, (Sustainable American-French) E. 4^th

                I’ve never actually been here for dinner (though I hear it’s quite good).  It made this list foe 2 reasons: 1. The sort of bicycle garage atmosphere and 2. The wait staff.  I’ve had it for lunch a couple of times (a certain perk to working downtown), and though I enjoyed my food (a croque madame and spectacular truffle fries), it has been, each time, the excellent service that wins the day.  The people who work at Greenhouse absolutely know their stuff.  More than that, they are actually passionate about it.  Maybe it’s easy to be passionate about great food, but there’s something unique about this place.  They don’t just tell you an obviously prepared list of ingredients and general impressions: they tell you everything about the food, from where it’s sourced to how its prepared.  The food service industry is (ironically) a pretty thankless job much of the time: poor wages, poor tippers, entitled Americans.  I’m sure Greenhouse gets those clients and suffers those ills (though I’d not be shocked if they make better than minimum-server wages): whatever they’re doing here though, makes the staff love their work.  That’s the mark of a great place, good food or not.  I’ll let you know how I feel about the food when I actually get there for dinner though

8. Soho, (Southern U.S.), Ohio City

                I’ve got a pretty large soft spot for actual southern food and drink.  It’s probably so big that my hard spots are smaller than that soft spot.  Soho, though apparently named after a district of both New York and London, is actually shorthand for “southern hospitality.”  Though I despise the fact that they use boneless, skinless chicken for their fried chicken, even it’s pretty good.  Everything else is astounding.  I particularly recommend their spicy collard greens.  Though Heinen’s has changed it, this used to be the only place in Cleveland to get a Cheerwine (thank you Heinen’s).  Their cocktails are unique and worth the price (that’s rare, even in Cleveland), each named for a different southern city.  For being pan-southern, they actually do a good job acknowledging the diversity of the South- it’s not just St. Louis or Memphis style ribs or friend chicken and collard greens: they have southern-style seafood (that isn’t Maryland style: it’s almost impossible to find anywhere that differentiates), shrimp and grits, smoked mac and cheese, their fried fish is catfish, etc., etc.  Anywhere that acknowledges that South is not just Texas, New Orleans, bourbon, and friend chicken, is my kind of place.

7. The Indies (Indian), 5^th St. Arcade;

                This is in a food court.  This is also the best Indian food I’ve found in Cleveland.  For 7 dollars at lunch, you get 2 pieces of Naan and a drink alongside 3 curries of your choice.  There are usually 4 or 5 vegetarian dishes, and 4 or 5 chicken dishes.  I typically get 2 vegetarian and a chicken.  My favorite is a vegetarian curry made with chickpeas and mustard greens.  Everything is perfectly spicy and flavorful.  The naan is buttered and crisp on the outside while pillowy beneath.  It might not have all of the options of a more typical Indian restaurant, but if you’re not picky and just want some Indian food, you’ll not find a better spot, regardless of price.  For the money, it’s a win-win.  

                Side note: The 5^th street arcades are becoming the most incredible place in Cleveland, more and more each week it seems. 

6. Deegan’s (New American Gastropub), Detroit Rd. (Lakewood)

                Ah Deegans.  We’ve probably ate here more than basically anywhere else in Cleveland.  It’s close to our house and it never, ever disappoints.  Melt is next door and much more famous, but Deegan’s should be.  The menu changes all of the time because they keep everything seasonal, so it’s hard to say what I’d recommend eating.  Just know that they do everything right: the drink list is monstrous, though classic (there are no signature cocktails aside from the occasional seasonal).  A rotating seasonal cheese/sausage list provides the perfect alternative appetizer.  Their warm pretzel “bar snack” is soft, and served with a beer cheese you would literally kill someone for.  Those are just the things I know they have- their entrees, which are different every single time we go, never, ever disappoint.  I mean never.  I always say I want to try their burger next time, then they have some new dish I just have to try.  Someday, I will try the burger.  I’m sure it will be delicious.  My wife raves about the mussels constantly, but I don’t like mussels.  If you like mussels, I guess you should probably go to Deegans.

5. Happy Dog (Hotdogs and tatertots), Detroit Shoreway

                For 5 dollars at Happy Dog, you get a hot dog with whatever you want on it.  Whatever.  This does mean you can do something crazy, like peanut butter, marshmallow, and salsa.  Happy Dog is known for allowing these shenanigans. But it is actually the well-thought out hot-dog that will steal the day.  They have 7 or 8 cheeses, 7 or 8 vegetables (from relish to pickled jicama), 7 or 8 sauces (hot sauces, barbecues, all sorts).  From there, the hotdog is your canvas.  I particularly enjoy brie, onions, mustard, and their hottest hot sauce.  The tatertots are somehow magically delicious too.  Don't leave without trying them.

4. El Carnicero (New Mexican), Detroit rd.( Lakewood)

                There is much to say about El Carnicero: their margaritas are unique and spectacular, the environment is interesting and hip, their bartenders have a great sense of humor (for 5 dollars during happy hour, you can order “El Hipster”: a shot of tequila and a modelo- Lakewood everybody).  But there are two words that define the El Carnicero experience succinctly: refried beans.  If there is a better use of 3 dollars anywhere in the world, sign me up.  It’s just a side dish, but it is literally the most flavorful side dish you will ever eat.  They are perfectly spicy, wonderfully aromatic, and the texture is just right.  They aren’t pasty, but they aren’t just slightly smushed beans either.  Everything about them is perfect.  Everything.  They are what heaven tastes like.

3.  Mahall’s 20 Lanes (Progressive Bowling Alley fare), Madison Rd. (Lakewood)

                Yeah, this is a bowling alley.  But don’t tell the chefs that.  I’m not sure how they found them or what they were thinking, but Mahalls somehow put together the perfect set of snacks for bowling without having anything to do with mozzarella sticks or hot dogs.  I met one of the chefs accidentally once.  I was eating the collard greens, he asked me what I thought of them.  “They’re delicious” I replied.  “I’m glad to hear that” he said.  “ It’s my mother’s recipe.”  Mahalls is literally just letting people make their parent’s recipes, and they’re quietly making the best sourthern food in Cleveland, or maybe all of the north.   Their cole slaw, pulled pork, fried chicken, and collard greens are better than anywhere I’ve had elsewhere in town.  Actually, they’re better or as good than most of what I’ve had actually in the South.  I mean, they give you regional options with your (unsauced when you get it) pulled pork.  At a bowling alley.  That’s unheard of  in Ohio.  Heck, barbecue usually means either sauce, potato chips, or grill in Ohio, even at “barbecue restaurants.”  Mahalls is a bowling alley, but I just bowl so I can eat.  (also, it is a hipster mecca in everyway- they also have the best cocktails outside of the Velvet Tango Room (and they’re actually more unique) and an incredible beer selection)

2.  Light Bistro (New American Tapas) , Ohio City

                For the last three years, we’ve enjoyed Light Bistro for our Valentine’s day meal, and that’s mostly what got this here.  The Light Bistro, like many restaurants, offers a prix fixe for valentine’s day.  This year, we had to celebrate a day early, so we missed out.  I’m kind of glad we did.  Though it was good the last two years, I’d always wanted to explore the deeper menu.  Simply put, I enjoy any good tapas place for the variety.  Light Bistro is no exception.  The highlight is the pork belly: it’s perfectly cooked: tender, with the fat melting atop it.  After my first bite, I decided that bacon is a waste of pork belly.  It’s how pork should be eaten.  But everything we tried was delicious.  For dessert, they shake a bag of warm beignets in sugar, then provide 3 dipping sauces.  It’s even better than it sounds.  If you want taps in Cleveland, I don’t see how you could go anywhere else.

1.  Le Petit Triangle (French Café),  Ohio City

                I’m always a little torn about Le Petit Triangle.  We’ve been there once and it is simply supreme.  They do french right, it’s that simple.  In typical Cleveland fashion, it’s a hole-in-the-wall with the strangest shape you’ll find for a restaurant (the name comes from the building’s shape), and it has legitimate food, beyond the more highly touted.  It’s the best french food we’ve had in Cleveland, even if Brasserie 429 or Tartine get more publicity around town.  It’s very classic: they have steak with bleu cheese sauce, poulet au (insert seasonal sauce and vegetable), ratatouille, crepes, even frog legs and escargot.  It’s also highly affordable for what you get.  But you always know what you’ll get.  That’s why I can be so torn.  Cleveland has so many adventurous eating opportunities: it’s hard to ever eat at the same place twice.  But at the same time, there’s something to be said for doing good food well, and Le Petit Triangle does great food spectacularly.  It’s a very french/Cleveland experience.  Dinner takes a long time, as it should, even though the wait staff looks more like off-hour starbucks baristas than professional garcons.  So I’m torn- you know what you’re getting, and it’s not quite how you’d expect to get that.  But once you get it, it will be astounding. 

 

You’ll notice that I left off anything by Michael Symon and Melt.  It’s not that I dislike Michael Symon, and I certainly love Melt.  But I have a strict rule: if Guy Fieri has been there or knows you, I can’t endorse it publically.

-Zack

A Best Picture Prospectus

For the first time in my life, I've seen each of the best picture nominees before the Oscars.  Every other year, going back a little over 5 years, I'd seen a few, maybe as many as half, but never all of them.

That hasn't, of course, stopped me from writing about them, but this year, especially, I'm actually qualified in many ways, with a number of surprises.  So here's my little run-down on each of them, and some predictions/rankings.

Note: I do think Inside Llewyn Davis should have been nominated.  I'm biased toward the Coens, of course, but even so- they've nominated ten in the past, and I don't see how it missed out this year.  That said, it's the last I'll mention it (til perhaps the end). (Rundown in no particular order)

* Captain Philips (Directed by Paul Greengrass)  Captain Phillips is perhaps the most "based on a true story" of what's an entire field of them (literally, in some way, nearly all of them are).  I have not done the work to research the veracity of each movie- that would be a disservice to their artistry- but Captain Phillips feels the most real.  That's probably because it takes place just a few years ago.  Most of the viewers probably remember when Somali pirates took an American freighter captain hostage, leading to an eventual rescue by Navy seals.  Other than having Tom Hanks in it, that's a recipe for an overwrought, poor film in my mind.  But Captain Phillips managed to keep my attention, all the way through.  It rarely dipped into "we're america, we're so great" territory that modern war/action films so often do.  In fact, it actually let the Somalis be humans, and not just bland antagonists.  On top of that, it's incredibly well shot, with some absolutely gorgeous at-sea shots.  The bigness of everything contrasted with the smallness of the humans is pure artistry.  It's probably the second best edited film in the bunch- it is the rare film that uses its editing to create the feeling for the viewer.  So often, even the best films try to bludgeon the viewer with the actual shot's content- not its composition.  Captain Phillips could have done this- and probably well.  But Greengrass actually made a film out of the story, not just a fictionalized, dramatized documentary dedicated to how great our military is.  It was the most surprisingly good movie of the lot.

*American Hustle (Directed by David O'Russell)  There was a time when American Hustle was probably the best picture favorite, but that was a time when we were all a little hopped up on Christmas cheer or something.  It's not a bad movie by any means.  In fact, it's quite good.  But it's really a very well-made, pretty well-acted comedy, and little more.  There's nothing particularly great about it- it's just that there's nothing particularly bad either.  Maybe it's the most perfect movie of the bunch, but it might also be the least interesting from an artistic standpoint.  Sure, Jennifer Lawrence is great and the rest of the cast does not disappoint.  But the plot is a sterilized, glamorized, and predictable take on the 70's disco-heist-steve-mcqueen sort of thing, without the action.   I did enjoy American Hustle, but it's a great sum of its parts, and an average total film.

*Her (Directed by Spike Jonze) A dystopian film where technology reaches frightful heights is nothing new, and likely won't get nominated for best picture any time soon.  But that is exactly where Her went at the outset.  Where it ends up though, is quite separate from its message.  It is easy to read right through Her.  It's a simple movie about how disconnected our technology makes us- I can tell you that from the trailer.  But the romance between Joaquin Phoenix and his OS (Scarlett Johansson)  is actually touching and real in astounding, heartfelt ways.  It is a film about how we long for human contact, but the OS is not a sad replacement.  It's a film much closer to REM's "Everybody Hurts" than The Wachowski's Matrix.  It's more Lost in Translation meets Lars and the Real Girl than Terminator meets Steve Jobs.  If that combination, Lost in Translation +Lars and the Real Girl sounds like an absolutely beautiful study in humanity, you are correct.  And it's not just an incredible and beautiful story and subject matter- it's a beautiful film.  The colors, the landscapes, the close-ups and long-shots- it would be beautiful on mute.

*Dallas Buyer's Club (Directed by Jean-Marc Vallee)  This is the best edited film I've seen in quite some time.  I don't know if it will win the award for that- it's not like it has a lot of special effects or jump cuts.  But it fits together perfectly.  It is an intertwining of characters, issues, plots, and art of the highest order.  It reminded me of Paris, Texas, if that movie were made with Oscar hopes in mind.  Some say the best art shows humanity at its truest.  That could certainly be said of Dallas Buyer's Club- but not just because of its heart-strings, geo-political, global economic-spin.  Those are all worked in- in a lot of ways, it is an issues-movie.  But it's the sort of issue movie that makes you see the world a certain way despite yourself.  That's not to say it strong-arms the viewer- quite the opposite: it simply tells a story of people in a way that makes you feel for them, because they are humans: not because they are people with Aids.  In many ways, it is the anti-Rent.  I like Rent, but this is better.  Much better.  But: It does portray Rayon, the transgender character (Jared Ledo) in a highly stereotypical manner: she's a transgender charicature (that they commonly refer to as "he"...); that's a problem the rest of the film manages to help me overlook.

*Philomena (directed by Stephen Frears)  Before I start, I will say: I enjoyed this movie a lot.  In fact, it's quite emotional and powerful.  But I have no idea how it got nominated.  It's hard to get through without some tears, and it has some genuinely funny moments.  But it is an average piece of art with an overt, over-the-top message it never stops trumpeting.  I am somewhat biased against message movies, and the Academy is somewhat biased toward them- but this is a dressed up documentary, at best. I liked it, I really did.  But it has no place in the best picture race, if the best picture race celebrates excellence in film-as-art-making.  It's not that it's not art-- it's just that it's a few tiers lower than the rest. I can't remember a single memorable shot for anything but the plot happening in it.  That should never be the case with a best picture nominee.

*The Wolf of Wall Street (directed by Martin Scorsesee) Yes, it is controversial (because it's art and not a moral tale..oooh), yes it is long (the longest best picture nominee by nearly an hour).  But it is the most entertaining movie I've seen in a long time.  It is hilarious.  In a way opposite from American Hustle though, it's not just funny situationally or because of the lines: it's actually shot in a way that maximizes the humor.  More than that though, it breathlessly builds up the plot, then breathlessly pulls it all down: it takes 3 hours, but it feels like 3 minutes: it moves at such a clip, there's nothing boring about it, ever.  It is crass, but that's the point.  Leonardo DiCaprio delivers an astounding performance: it's like he was made to play a ruthless, amoral wall street criminal.  Like Her and Captain Phillips, it gives you a true sense, as a viewer, of the manic situation through its editing and angles, not just its shots' content.  I loved this movie.

*Gravity(Directed by Alfonso Cuaron) Before the majority of the rest of the nominees had even made it to most (all?) theaters, I knew Gravity would be nominated.  It has some flaws: there's practically no plot aside from a (very touching) backstory told entirely through lines, with no visual aid.  In a lot of ways, it's just a rote disaster movie, set in space (a sort of realistic space, at least).  But it is the best space movie since 2001. The shots are massive and breathtaking; space is huge and lonely.  It ends well too: that last shot is burned into my memory for life.  In some ways, Gravity is just a spectacle: but film is a visual artform- I'd rather have a shallowly plotted spectacle than a by-the-book fictionalized documentary any day.  Everyone needs to see Gravity once, if possible while it's still in this Oscar revival run in theaters.  I'm not sure seeing it twice is necessary, but it is worth any price to experience, in any way possible.

*Nebraska (Directed by Alexander Payne) If Gravity is the "biggest" film of the bunch, Nebraska is the "smallest."  I think it's a dark comedy about a man who thinks his "you could win 1 million dollars" certificate is legitimate.  But I'm convinced it's a deep meditation on aging in the 21st century, trapped in middle America.  I, of course, have not aged really, not past 26 at least, so I could be wrong.  But it is a story about home and a story about failure.  It's a story more about all of us, ultimately, than most movies ever allow.  It's the exact opposite of escapism, whatever that means.  It's also the obligatory black and white movie this year.  But it's a beautiful black and white.  You might think there's nothing to see in the state of Nebraska, but the landscape shots in this film beg to differ.  Whatever Dallas Buyer's Club is missing from the Paris, Texas analogy, Nebraska delivers.  If either film wins this year, it means Paris, Texas would have run away with the award given this specific set of voters and this field.  It should be noted that if you haven't seen Paris, Texas, you're missing out.

*12 Years a Slave (Directed by Steve McQueen) Back in August, I heard of this movie like people hear of high school quarterbacks on youtube.  It was a legend before it was ever in theaters anywhere near me.  It did not live up to that billing, but that doesn't mean it's not a remarkable film.  It must be said that it shows America what the bloody and horrendous smear Slavery really was on our past- though it does perpetuate the good-slave-owner fallacy to a degree.  That's somewhat unforgivable (See: Beloved by Toni Morrison), but if you get past it, it will break your heart in the right ways.  It does not shy from a single shot.  Perhaps most powerfully, it reminds the viewer how beautiful the American south was and is, and then, reminds them, in the very next shot, that slavery was an ugly and dirty thing.  Maybe that's a metaphor for how great America is as an idea, but how we let slavery exist for 85 years and turned a somewhat blind eye as a nation.  I don't know.  I know I liked it a lot, and I wouldn't be surprised if it won.  But I don't want to hear praise for it from anyone who criticized the racial elements of Django Unchained.  It's the same movie without Tarantino stylization- indeed, Tarantino makes the viewer much more uncomfortable with slavery.  We can't be glad to be uncomfortable with it in the more palatable, less swear-word (but just as many n-word) 12 years a slave, then dog on Django Unchained.  12 Years a Slave lets you believe there are good slave owners.  Django Unchained punishes every single character who at all places themselves above a black person for reasons of race.  If this wins, it means Argo was better than Gravity and Her, because this movie is not better than Django Unchained in any respect, even its message. At least that's what logic says: in reality, it would just be another instance of how we like our movies to shock us with the truth, but not too much.   Even so, 12 Years a Slave is a good movie.  It really is.

Part II: Outcomes

So, how does it all shake out?  I'm not an Oscars voter, and I think most of them don't know how to watch movies.  But I'll give you two lists: one, my rankings (so #1 is who I think should win).  The second, my rankings on likelihood of what I think will happen.

My Perfect World:
9. Philomena (It's just pretty average, really)
8. American Hustle (It's just a really pretty average)
7. Captain Phillips (Tom Hanks is great...it lacks the oomph)
6. Gravity (It's a great spectacle, but does it stand the test of time like a winner should?)
5. 12 Years a Slave (Like I said, it's good- I just prefer Django Unchained)
4. Nebraska (Beautiful, but slightly misses out)
3. Her (If museum curators voted....)
2. The Wolf of Wall Street (It hits on all cylinders for 3 hours: that's its own accomplishment)
1. Dallas Buyers Club (A truly great piece of film-art, its problems with transgender portrayal aside)

What I think Will Happen: Because the world isn't perfect (and it wouldn't be even if I did run the Oscars)

9. Nebraska (just too many old voters, who, ironically enough, would see it as too untraditional)
8. The Wolf of Wall Street (it takes a down year for Scorsessee to win, and that's a shame)
7. Gravity (Sci-Fi doesn't get Oscars)
6. Captain Phillips (Tom Hanks is great, but "the issues!  the issues!"
5. Philomena (You simply don't leave out Inside Llewyn Davis if this didn't get a monstrous amount of votes)
4. Dallas Buyers Club (Aids and homophobia are issues: but no one is going to feel like they're supporting them by voting for this, and that's a shame)
3. Her (Cognitive bias slotting it the same? Maybe.  But ScarJo is powerful)
2. American Hustle (Everyone loves JLaw!)
1. 12 Years a Slave (But not as much as they love sticking it to Tarantino)

I do think 12 Years a Slave wins- it has the biggest mass-appeal across the voting categories, and it absolutely tugs at the heart in ways people can't deny.  I can see people failing to vote for the aids movie or the Catholic-church-is-corrupt movie.  But no one has a good argument for slavery.  So- it's getting to the top of the issue-movie heap.  It's just good enough artistically to carry the rest of the votes.  And Brad Pitt is in it, alongside some other astoundingly good performances.

But I'll be rooting for Dallas Buyer's Club.  It's what I thought was the best movie of the last year.

Note: I would have ranked Inside Llewyn Davis 5th in my list (and Saving Mr. Banks 9th, with Philomena 10th).

Now, we wait and see what happens...
-Zack
"Can't stop thinkin, bout my own breathin
Everytime I wake up I feel"

-Arcade Fire

2013: an Epilogue

I've had this blog since 2008.  That makes this the fifth time my annual recap/best-of post is happening at this location.  That's much more than both my old xanga account, which is no longer available.  The last four editions of this post, however, can be found by looking for dates around the first of each year.

2013 was an interesting year.  I started a new job, I finished my first year of law school, we went back to Savannah, and I became a 2l.  2l year is a lot better than 1l, but law school still consumes life as much as ever.  Until law school is over, my life is largely on pause.  That's how it feels.  But even so, time still keeps going forward.  That's what I like best about 2014- that time still keeps going forward.  I will be halfway done with my last year of law school by the time this year is over.  Right now, I'm merely halfway done with all of law school.  Beautifully though, in 8 days, I'll be more than halfway done.  That's exciting.

Other than that, 2013 was mostly a year where I grew older, hopefully wiser, and more mature.  I've been making these recap posts since I was a senior in high school- it's hard to believe how much I've changed since then.  I think it's been mostly good.

But I don't want this to be a too-too personal 2013 in my life post.  There's some business to get to, which will hopefully help me make sense of the onslaught of meta-cultural phenomena that was 2013.

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The rules are simple: I just pick my favorite thing from the past year in each category.  It doesn't have to have come out in 2013- it just needs to be my favorite thing which I experienced. I think, a few years back, for instance, the Beatles were my band of the year.

But here it is, without much more, my yearly superlatives for 2013, a year defined, against all odds, by the Pope and Miley Cyrus.

Literature:

This is always the category that means the most to me, but it means slightly less this year: I only read 22 books last year.  That's 33 down from my all-time high.  I blame law school, and law school deserves the blame.  But from those 22 books, I did some great reading.

Book of the year: Les Miserables, Victor Hugo.  In stark contrast to the putrid musical movie that came out Christmas 2012, I was in the midst of the unabridged version of the book.  It's long, and when you read as many books at once as I do, it can take a long time to finish.  But it is worth every single page.  Hugo is not the world's best writer, at least in translation.  But his unflinching commentary on the world in the midst of a story for the ages is unmatched.  That's what's so wrong with the musical: Les Miserables tells a fine story of redemption- if that's how you want to read it, and focus on the characters.  But it is not a story of redemption- it is a story of forgiveness and love, and how society's systems find themselves so harshly devoid of those two highest virtues.  It is a story about France and a story about humanity.  Jean Valjean just gets to play a central cameo role.  Both because of how much it took up my time to read it, and because it really is brilliant, there's no way it couldn't be my book of 2013.  It's the rare book that doesn't just make you think, but can actually affect how you think.  And that's great literature, if anything is.
Runner Up: Fight Club, Chuck Palahniuk

Author of the Year: Lemony Snicket.  I read a lot of children's books, to keep abreast of what's good for my own future children, and to stay in touch with the heart of narrative.  Most children's books, if nothing else, remind me what it means to tell a story in the most elemental of ways.  But Lemony Snicket does something else.  Sure, he's one of the few authors on my list of read books that appears more than once, so that helps, but he's actually good too.  Very good.  He actually has a voice, like, a breathing, living, tone and voice.  He's the opposite of Avi or Rowling, in that he has a style centered on interesting ways to tell a story, not just getting the story out.  I love Avi, and I love Harry Potter.  But Lemony Snicket is a better writer than both them by scores.
Runner Up: Gustave Flaubert

Motion Pictures:
Law school has similarly limited my ability to watch whole movies, and netflix has opened the door to so much more for me.  It's really a shame.  In many ways, 2013 was the year netflix became an internal part of how I consume motion pictures, be they in film or tv format.  Perhaps netflix gets my corporation of the year, if I had one of those (but I don't and won't.)

Film of the year: Inside Llewyn Davis, The Coen Brothers.  Ok, this is stereotypical and predictable- of course it's the movie the Coen's released right?  Just like it will probably be the Wes Anderson movie for 2014, that's not a surprise.  But beyond that fact that anyone who knows me could have seen that coming for miles, ILD is truly brilliant, in the least brilliant of ways.  It's like the Coens have allowed their apparently (but not really) nihilistic worldview to soften a bit, and thus become all the more potent. That, and they make you feel like you actually are inside of a character without bludgeoning you with it.  That's what I love about the Coens- they let their films speak for themselves, and they are all the more powerful for it.  That's ultimately what separated this from the runner up- that film is spectacular and a spectacle, but the director makes sure you know it, all the way to the end.  I prefer my artists respect me as a viewer.  The Coens are literally the only American filmmakers who actually do that-- and of course, they do it subtly.
Runner-Up: Gravity, Alfonso Cuaron

Television Show of the Year: Breaking Bad. This is a category that I might have cut (thanks, again, to Law School), were it not for netflix.  As it is though, it's as alive and kicking as ever.  In fact, it's probably the best year for it .  It's hard to believe I had maybe seen one episode of Breaking Bad total, this time next year.  If it weren't for netflix, I'd have missed out on one of the most exhilarating 8 weeks I've ever lived.  Every sunday at 9 was not just appointment television- it was appointment living.  Breaking Bad didn't just end this year, it took hold of all things pop culture for those 8 weeks. It might have hurt my grades for all I know- it was literally on my mind as much as anything.  And there was so much hysteria that I gleefully embraced: the pre-caps before the show, recaps after, memes, message boards, etc. etc.- it had us all, for 8 weeks.  And not just any show can do that- but one that shows us all who we all are, somewhere inside-- Breaking Bad is billed appropriately as a story of change, and what is life, but change?   I don't plan to ever cook meth, but I do believe we all make decisions, everyday, that turn us more and more into the person we will end up being- for good or ill.  Breaking Bad encapsulated all of that.  And it was funny, suspenseful, and beautiful at the same time.  It was the best television show I have ever watched.
Runner-Up: Orange is the New Black

Music:

Ah.  The category law school has probably enhanced the most. I actually have plenty of time to listen to music, while I write, read, and drive.  And, for whatever reason, 2013 was the year I rediscovered live concerts- it had been a long time, but last summer and a bit into the fall, I went to quite a few more concerts than I had in years.

Song of the Year: Journey After (War Fatigues), Flobots:  I saw the Flobots live, in June. They've been one of my favorite bands for a long time, largely because they don't change their message.  They don't sell out for anything.  I don't know if they're good enough to actually sell out (apparently Handlebars was, but it seems to have been an anomaly).  I don't remember if they did this song at the concert, but I downloaded their newest album as soon as I got home from the concert.  This song is just ok from a musical standpoint- but it's simply drenched in heartfelt realness: remorse, forgiveness, redemption for us all.  It captures what it means to fall down and get back up.  And that's exactly what I needed, more times than I'd like to admit, in 2013.
Runner-Up: Black Skinhead, Kanye West

Artist of the Year: Kanye West.  And for much more than the music.  Kanye is and will be, for the foreseeable future, one of the single artists I listen to most.  But in 2013, Kanye wasn't just a rapper/producer.  He became a father, he released the most brilliant and bizarre music videos I've ever seen, he proved he's a genius with his ideas and a madman for how he delivered them.  And he still feels disrespected by everyone, and isn't afraid to talk about it.  Miley won the year when it comes to conversation, but Kanye won the year when it comes to actually doing something.  Yeezus was a treat for the cerebral Kanye fan I am, but even more than that, I simply loved 2013 in Kanye, as a person.
Runner Up: Run Boy Run  (for a lot of the same reasons, but in astoundingly different ways)

Album of the Year: So Sang the Whippoorwill, Run Boy Run.  This is one of the bands I saw live, and only because a very drunk friend started e-mailing them in March.  They're from Arizona, but they played a show in Cleveland, and I drove him.  They're very good, and this album is almost perfect in a lot of ways.  I don't know if angels actually sing in heaven or not, but if they do, I'm sure this is what it sounds like :

Runner Up: Aims, Vienna Teng


Sports Team of the Year: Green Bay Packers.  Ugh. 2013 was tough in sports.  As I live Cleveland longer and longer, and root more and more for teams here, it gets harder.  But my none-Cleveland teams are going through less than stellar patches too.  It's great that the Indians got into the pseudo-playoffs, but even more than that, the Packers haven't lost yet.  The Reds are a disappointment because they can't win playoff games.  The Browns suck.  Ohio State had a great 2013 til December.  I couldn't put them in this spot, because they're also the most disappointing thing about 2013 sports.  That and the Cavs.
Runner-up: Cleveland Indians

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So there it is.  Another year down.  Here's to a better 2014.  Further up and further in everyone.

May God bless and keep you in 2014.  I hope we can all meet again soon.

-Zack

"We didn't start the fire, but provide the kindling"
-Flobots

Excuse me while I ascend my ivory tower

It has been a long time since I've posted anything substantial.  That's law school.  We're in the middle of finals right now.  I just had my first this morning- I'm feeling good about it, but feelings are law school finals are never good predictors of anything at all.

As a result though, I'm kind of taking some time away from studying, and I thought I'd weigh in on a bit of pop culture in the only way I know how: as it relates to Kanye West.

About two weeks ago, Kanye released this music video for Bound 2.  It takes about four seconds to find someone ridiculing it and Kanye (mostly Kanye) just about anywhere on the internet.  I'd imagine you can find some deleterious commentary about it in even the comments section of a rhubarb pie recipe at allrecipes.com.  Kanye, as is nothing new, became the internet's horse of the moment, and everyone wanted a ride- if not to go anywhere, at least to use the whip.

Knowing Kanye as I do (which is not at all personally- just as a closely studied auteur, from afar), he's probably taking it very personally, or attributing it to jealousy.  I'm not sure it's either really: I think it's, literally, a lack of education (or at least the right kind of education) on the part of anyone who criticizes it.

That is not to say that you have to like it- I'm not sure I do.  But I am saying you can't just watch it and understand it, especially if you majored in math at a state school and work at Wal-Mart.  Or worse.

You see, Kanye's video for Bound 2 does nothing less than show that he is not just years, but decades, centuries, millennia ahead of the pop culture world.

Some facts you need to know: Bound 2 is the last song on Yeezus.  Yeezus is essentially Kanye's Finnegan's Wake at this point- it proves more that he can do it than that anyone will enjoy it.  I do enjoy it, but more for what it is than how it sounds...very much like Finnegan's Wake.

Another fact: Hip-Hop is, and has been, necessarily post-modern since its inception.  It is an art form driven by collaboration and individuality, celebrated not for individual accomplishment as uniqueness: there's a relatively fine line in this area, between modernism and post-modernism.  The difference is based on the emphasis.  In modern times (the 40s, roughly, for instance), we celebrated what individuals achieved.  In post-modern times, we celebrate that they are individual.  Hip Hop started doing this while Led Zeppelin was still fighting for radio plays because white executives were unwilling to risk jumping format.  It's not just the music (though that's the biggest part- were it not, ODB would not be famous-- he's not the best, but he's unique)-- it's the dance, the DJ, the MC.  Hip-Hop is a tapestry, and was eons before that became a cool thing to be.

But post-modernism does not stop there (actually, it does not start there- hip-hop has simply expressed post-modernism through celebrating individuality).  Post-moderism is, as an ethos, the decentering of all things: values, expectations, reality as we know it.  It is founded and has its form in the (far more honest but much less workable) notion that we use centers because we think we need them, but they do not actually exist.

Kanye famously dropped out of college- but his entire career has and does embody that notion.  From the start, he couldn't get a deal as a rapper because people viewed him as a producer.  Now, he wants to be an architect, to design clothes, etc.: but he can't, because people view him as a rapper.  His entire career has been defined by others, clinging to their personal center of classification: "producers can't rap/rappers can't design clothes" and on and on.  But there is nothing necessarily true about that. Nothing at all.

Bound 2 is a straight perpetuation of expectation-shattering Kanye at his best.  It is the last track on Yeezus.  Other famous last tracks include A Day in the Life by the Beatles, Freebird by Lynyrd Skynard, All You Need is Love, etc.  It's the epic sum-up, the happy note, the grand finale.  Bound 2 is anything but.  It's one of the least serious, most ridiculous songs Kanye has ever released.  Its very structure breaks expectations with the "ah-ha honey" cutting in at all the "wrong times."  Its a song that barely sounds like more than a smattering of unfinished work.  I still like it, because it's largely Kanye's way of saying that he can make even the dumbest crap in the world sound good.

And then- the music video: it takes that very song and applies it to something that's supposed to feel epic: the monstrous long shots, the horses, the open fields.  The song does not "fit" at all.   What's more, when it actually shows Kanye rapping, he's just standing in a poorly lit medium shot, rapping and doing stereotypical rapper hand movements.  There's no plot to the video whatsoever.   The song is not where it "should" be on the album, it's not even what a song "should be" from one of the most successful artists of our day.  To top it all off, it features the comically suggestive motorcycling/sex action with naked Kim Kardashian.

Whether he realizes it or not, the motorcycle portions are the most subversive: he's Kanye, the most ridiculed man in white America, clearly having a relationship with a woman that (as annoying as keeping up with the Kardashians is) most American men would rank, from a pure looks standard, among the most beautiful.  But Kanye has her.  And he does not just have her, he is running away with her, on his motorcycle, and rapping loudly while he does it.  Could much more enrage stereotypical white America further?  The loud, rich black man, running away with a beautiful white woman: and, not just any white woman, but the daughter of a man who got OJ Simpson off for allegedly murdering a white woman?

The anti-misegenation crowd is quiet these days, but a vast portion of American men still cringe a little, when they see a beautiful white woman with a black man-- to the point that they make jokes about it.   It just "looks unnatural" I've often heard, as if that makes it okay.  But that's really the point of Kanye: it only looks unnatural because you insist that anything is natural.

Bound 2 breaks all sorts of unwritten rules, and it takes hip-hop to the next level on the post-modern spectrum.  You don't have to enjoy it to realize that.  Generally though, I suspect that the internet does not realize that- nor even attempt to.  Though I probably strive to see the best in Kanye first (because that's such a crime...seeing the best in someone...), it's almost an unwritten rule amongst white-interneters that Kanye=ridiculous, and so does everything he does.  It's a lie though, a lie rooted in ignorance, and perpetuated by it.  Whether he realizes it or not, Kanye is a consummate artist who pushes boundaries so we can all see that there are no boundaries.  That's the conclusion of my IS: if we don't take time to let ourselves get decentered by art, we never give ourselves a chance to look beyond our parochial worldview.  It's not that Kanye breaks rules.  It's that there are no rules.

So Seth Rogen can parody all he wants- he's just playing to the crowd.  Too often, the very post-modern social networks of today allow us to remain a monoculture, because we are subject to intense and instant group-think.  If you can create the funniest meme the fastest, you get to be celebrated.  IF you can't, you're trolled.  That's pitiful modernist activity if its ever existed.

Kanye is creating art.  We are, unfortunately, as a society, literally too uneducated to realize it.  If something isn't how we think it ought to be, we ridicule it.  If something isn't how we think it out to be, we find a way to ignore it.  The great irony is that, in all of this, we'll have nothing but a bunch of misinformed snide comments to show for it.  Kanye, however, will have done his part to change the world (as crazy as that might sound).

By writing this, I hope I am too.

-Zack