It is almost impossible to write about Superman without diving headlong into the history of the iconography that surrounds the character; the image of the red, diamond-enclosed ‘S’ ranks among the most universally recognizable symbols in our marketing-soaked culture. The Golden Arches, The Mouse Ears, The Cross, The Red ‘S’. Like the stories behind those other symbols, Superman is more than just another brand name; he’s a vessel for an entire way of thinking about the world. In the time since 1938, when the character created by Canadian artist Joe Shuster and American writer Jerry Siegel made his debut in Action Comics #1, Superman has been utilized as a cipher for everything from the democratic values fighting for survival in the Cold War era to the dominance of scientific reason and technological advancement in the late 20th Century. That ‘S’ is so loaded with history and meaning, any attempt to add to the legacy and the myth of Superman comes burdened by very strict boundaries within which one must operate; Born on Krypton, a baby named Kal-El is sent to Earth to protect mankind. Given his incredible powers by our sun, Superman stands for truth and justice, and uses his arsenal of talents to help mankind against any and all of the various threats facing our civilization. Created as the fulfillment of the man’s ‘will to power’ as outlined by the German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche and based on Jewish myth of the Golem, a creature created to protect the Jews of Prague in the 16th century, Superman has taken on an almost God-like omnipotence in the comic book universe. He is the first, and greatest, superhero; the heroic composite of centuries of storytelling.

That is a lot of baggage for any filmmaker to carry forward, but add to it the The Adventures of Superman, Superboy, The Adventures of Lois and Clark, and Smallville television series, the beloved Superman: The Movie and the Superman II-IV films of the late 1970’s and early-1980’s, and there is already an entire canon of Superman on film that, unfortunately, has never come close to capturing the depth and storytelling potential latent in the myth. On paper, Brian Singer’s Superman Returns held a great deal of promise to be the film that finally overcomes this disappointment. Singer is a talented director who single-handedly made X-Men and X-Men II among the best comic book films of all time, and his focus on the inner lives of his characters proved that there was more to the superhero movie than just spectacular fight sequences (although he gave us those, too.) Unfortunately, what looked good on paper fails to come to life as a film; Superman Returns is a big let down.

Übermensch Restrained: Brandon Routh as Superman

In Superman Returns, Superman (Brandon Routh) returns to Earth after a five-year absence to find that things are exactly like they used to be. As Clark Kent, he returns to his old job at Metropolis’ biggest newspaper, The Daily Planet, and finds all of his old colleagues on hand to welcome him back; Jimmy Olsen (a scene-stealing Sam Huntington), Editor-in-Chief Perry White (Frank Langella, who somehow turns the part into a good-natured parody of his role in Good Night, and Good Luck), and the beautiful Lois Lane (a miscast Kate Bosworth). Of course, trouble awaits our hero once again in the form of Lex Luthor (Kevin Spacey, in full scenery-devouring mode), but it is not only Superman who suffers at the hands of Luthor’s plot; the movie itself suffocates under his messy, ill-conceived scheme. I won’t spoil the movie by giving away the details of Luthor’s dastardly plan, but if you’ve seen Superman: The Movie, well, you’ve already seen it. The crucial mistake that Singer and writers Michael Dougherty and Dan Harris have made with the story is that, instead of enhancing the Superman legend by taking us to wondrous places we never might have expected the superhero to go, the writers instead chose to make the film an unremarkable disaster movie.

Superman Returns oscillates Superman’s focus between petty crime and catastrophic disaster while spending all of its emotional credibility on the adulterous relationship between Lois and Superman. At one end of this fulcrum, we have a bank robbery whose payoff is more thrilling than Luthor’s ‘threat to humanity’ and on the other, the emotional distance between two people. Well, one person and a superhero. While the film tries to balance these conflicting impulses, it is the fight against crime that fails to register with much impact; the execution of Luthor’s plot feels half-baked and illogical, without a shred of the emotional weight of the Superman-Lois story. In fact, we wouldn’t care about Luthor’s plan much at all had Singer and the gang not forced an unwitting Lois into the center of the crime itself.

Bizarre Love Triangle: James Marsden, Brandon Routh and Kate Bosworth in Superman Returns

In between kisses and explosions, Superman Returns becomes another in a long line of “name the reference” meta-movies that trade narrative innovation for a knowing wink to the audience. They are all here; Titanic, The Day After Tomorrow, United 93, Black Sunday, Armageddon, 2001: A Space Odyssey, The Passion of The Christ, Spiderman, On The Waterfront (Marlon Brando and Eva Marie Saint in the same movie. Get it?), and most disappointingly, Superman: The Movie. Why are the Superman films constantly plagued by inadequate villainy? The only film of the five Superman movies to come close to capturing the best of the character is Richard Lester’s Superman II which, in retrospect, may only be based on the fact that Terence Stamp had the audacity to actually play his role (as the evil General Zod) straight. I won’t even discuss the horrific Gus Gorman (Richard Pryor) in Superman III or Nuclear Man (Mark Pillow) from Superman IV: The Quest For Peace as they represent pure camp. Of course, while the stakes in Superman Returns are high, the story is wiped on the screen in such broad, ineffective strokes and comes to such an understated conclusion that, in the end, the movie feels like just another day at the office for the Man of Steel. What is most frustrating is that no one in the film gets what is coming to him; not Lex Luthor, not even the bank robber who spectacularly shoots Superman. I assume we all want to see Superman kick some serious ass, but aside from his lifting very heavy objects and flying around faster than a speeding bullet, the film refuses us a big payoff.

Much has been made about the homosexual and Christian overtones of the Superman myth, and while the movie does no favors to those looking to claim Superman as a gay icon (his heterosexual performance is certainly validated), Superman’s Jesus complex comes on full force, including a wink and a nod to The Da Vinci Code’s big secret. Despite the savior pastiche, Superman Returns delivers on the unfortunate promise of its title. The film is indeed a return to the underwhelming Superman films of the past and, even at 157 minutes long, feels slight. There is no rhythm here, no escalation of tension. Watching scene after scene of useless cutaways that do nothing to build suspense (Martha Kent’s dish washing scene at the beginning, the airplane lecture, the cigar in the sewer, the piano duet as Lois bravely faxes a note to The Daily Planet?), I couldn’t help but think that Singer should have brushed up on his Hitchcock before shooting; the film could easily have run 120 minutes and delivered many more thrills. Ultimately, the film is the perfect start to the summer movie season; the hype and hope come down to nothing more than a simple shrug of the shoulders.

At the risk of this blog going all rock and roll...

Wow. One day after I mentioned the likelihood that we'd never hear from Jeff Mangum and Neutral Milk Hotel ever again, I read on Pitchfork reports from the Elephant Six message boards...

"Hello again.

thanks for listening. jeff"

Now, what are the chances that everyone's favorite American rock recluse will come out of his self-imposed exile and begin creating music for the public again? There have been rumors for years as to how, where, when and why Jeff quit recording music, including a MUST READ, famously controversial profile in Atlanta's Creative Loafing that merely interprets his absence in a swirl of innuendo.There is also a revealing Pitchfork interview that captures the difficulty of describing the issues surrounding Mangum's absence. If this message from 'jeff' is real, then it represents some great news. In the wake of longing (The Spinanes) and loss (Sleater-Kinney), I am so ready for some good news that I am willing to believe it is true. All I can hope is that the same freedom that allowed NMH to create their classic records will allow Jeff to create something new and transcendent. Fingers crossed...

Ruby Bulbs by Neutral Milk Hotel. Live, April 12, 1998

UPDATE: The note from 'jeff' was apparently a HOAX... Well done!

Sleater-Kinney, The Best Band In America, are breaking up. I found the news on their website today and I am heartbroken.

"After eleven years as a band, Sleater-Kinney have decided to go on indefinite hiatus. The upcoming summer shows will be our last. As of now, there are no plans for future tours or recordings. We feel lucky to have had the support of many wonderful people over the years. We want to thank everyone who has worked with us, written kind words about us, performed with us, and inspired us. But mostly we want to extend our gratitude to our amazing fans. You have been a part of our story from the beginning. We could not have made our music without your enthusiasm, passion, and loyalty. It is you who have made the entire journey worthwhile.

With love and thanks,
Sleater-Kinney"

This is VERY depressing news for independent music; Sleater-Kinney are one of the biggest independent bands in America. With Clear Channel and MTV dominating the business of music and youth culture, modern "artists" have become little more than the products of corporate manufacturing. What does the future hold? Websites delivering songs to micro-communities? On-air voting for singers doing glorified karaoke? Is this a culture worth living in?

I could see this one coming, though. The band has grown more ambitious in recent years, playing larger venues (and tearing the shit out of them) and waiting and waiting and waiting for the world to catch up and make the whole project sustainable. There were the appearances on Letterman and the big push from new label Sub Pop to try and get the band into the public consciousness. And yet, there was The Woods; the band's now final album is a fuzz drenched example of rock music at its most challenging and essential. Even the engineer turned everything up to 11. How could you not? I think of Sleater-Kinney as the perfect embodiment of the outrage and political anger that has dominated the last six years of my own political life. Maybe the band are as exhausted and disillusioned by it all as I am.

But, damn. If Sleater-Kinney can't make it, who will?

And now, the band will be no more. Hiatus is a word I never like to hear. Neutral Milk Hotel are on "hiatus". So are My Bloody Valentine. Both are bands we will likely never hear from again, but I will always cherish both as essential. With Sleater-Kinney leaving me, they will skyrocket to the top of the list of things I love that are no more. But I won't cry yet; the band's last NYC show, scheduled for August 2nd, is already sold out (with tickets going for $150 each on Craigslist), but I just grabbed two tickets for the Philadelphia show on July 31st. I will be there with a heavy heart, ready to say good-bye to my favorite band in the world.

Ladies, you are the best. What are we going to do without you?

The End Of You by Sleater-Kinney. Live at Warsaw, May 24, 2002 (and I was there...)

I miss The Spinanes. I love their music. Some twelve and a half years years after I first bought Manos at Schoolkids' Records in Ann Arbor on a cold, early winter afternoon in 1993, The Spinanes' debut album (and one of the best $10 I have ever spent in my entire life) still thrills me to no end. This is that one record that remains a best friend, the kind to whom you can constantly return feeling like you've never left. Manos is a very important personal touchstone and in 1993, when it came out, I was a just a kid-- fucking up in college, working at dead-end jobs in the service industry, trying to get by while falling in love with film in Ann Arbor's art house cinemas (the first to which I had access.) Manos has seen me through all of the changes in my life since then, and it remains as fresh and interesting to me as the first day I heard it. A big, optimistic pop record with a sexy, heavy dark side.

But it isn't my favorite.

In 1996, The Spinanes released Strand, their second album. It was March when I got the record, a couple of days after it had been released, and I was just at the start of one of those relationships; not "the one", but certainly one of the "ones." Lingering, formative "ones." The ones that are required before finding "the one." Anyway, I didn't know it at the time, but I was also two months away from leaving Michigan for good. I will never forget the first time I heard Strand. I was caught in a huge rain storm, driving between East Lansing and Flint, MI. The sky turned pitch black in the middle of the day. Ominous clouds. I pushed play, and waited for the music to begin. A slow, industrial hiss, a heart-beat drum kicking in. A single strum of the guitar. A whispered voice...

Hey baby/ your head's on fire... Chasing the miles/ escaping your one desire...

And the downpour began. As much as Manos stays fresh and new to me, Strand is the record I'll never forget; the record that captured a momentary version of myself, a 25 year old love-sick me, driving in a rain storm, on the verge of moving east. A frozen moment, suspended and hopeful. I love both records dearly, but it is Strand, the darker and more challenging of the two albums, that still gives me chills.

Another day spent retracing things I’ve said...The marks they've left there on your face

Scott Plouf would leave The Spinanes after Strand and join Built To Spill as their drummer, while Rebecca Gates, singer-songwriter extraordinare, would record one more album under The Spinanes name, the equally amazing Arches and Aisles* (1998) and a solo EP called Ruby Series. Last year, Rebecca played a live show on NPR and her stripped down, haunting versions of these songs are still achingly beautiful.

But there is nothing like Strand to bring it all flooding back... Has It really been ten years?

Tell you I miss you, there's no one else I'm dreaming of...and all the lips that kiss me are no match for your fever touch...

Lines and Lines by The Spinanes, from 1996's (ouch) Strand

Dear Bruce,

I can't begin to state the depths of my disappointment in you and the absolutely terrible choices you have made as a manager in this World Cup, but I will do my best to articulate my thoughts to you about how you, and you alone, are responsible for the United States being eliminated today by Ghana.

Dejected: Landon Donovan, in the wake of his invisible performance in the 2006 World Cup, walks off the pitch after the USA's 2-1 loss to Ghana (AP Photo)

First, let me just say; from 1995-1997, during your tenure as manager of DC United, I lived in Washington DC and was a regular attendee at DC United matches. After Steve Sampson, US Men's coach for the 1998 World Cup, basically ran that team into the ground with his ridiculous exclusion of John Harkes and his innate ability to make his players hate his guts, I was among the first to call your name as the best possible replacement. That paid off in 2002 when, after qualifying for the World Cup, you took an unheralded Team USA to the Quarter Finals, where we outplayed Germany, but lost 1-0. US Soccer has much to be proud of, and your run to the QF in 2002 really laid the ground work for the development of the game in this country over the last four years.

In qualifying for the 2006 World Cup, we won our region and qualified first, a wonderful accomplishment in its own right. I was on top of the world as a supporter; we had become the class of the region and our team was a confident balance of young players and veterans. Then, thanks to an incomprehensible seeding system, FIFA gave Mexico the #1 seed from our region and when the draw for the 2006 World Cup was announced, I knew we were in trouble: we had drawn Italy and the Czech Republic alongside African champions Ghana. The group of death. We had our work cut out for us, and with you in charge of the team, I had hopes that you would bring us respect on the pitch. Would we qualify for the second round? It was possible, if the team came prepared and was firing on all cylanders. I had no doubts that you would have the team prepared.

But a funny thing happened on the way to respectability. In pre-tournament friendlies, the team made some mistakes and was terrible in front of goal. Then came the Cup, and here is where you blew it: The USA came out playing four defenders, FIVE midfielders, and ONE striker: a 4-5-1. Sure, you said Landon Donovan was being utilized as a striker, but look at the tape; you played the 4-5-1, played a terribly out of form DaMarcus Beasley out of position by playing him on the right wing, and sat Clint Dempsey on the bench with Eddie Johnson, our young striker.

Well, that didn't work.

After being thrashed 3-0 and taking ONE shot on goal against the Czech Republic, when our team came out looking unprepared and afraid, you promised better against Italy, and we got that. Not because you changed anything: here was the 4-5-1 again. After going down a goal and getting an own goal from the Italians, the game turned into a gut-check with 9 USA men playing against 10 Italians. Bunkering and playing with tremendous heart, our guys held on for a miracle draw. But the fundamental flaw in your system showed again-- you played not to lose. Not terrible against the Italians, but the US had no chance to win that game.

Then, today. Despite a terrible play from Captain Claudio Reyna, giving the ball away at the top of the box and allowing Haminu Draman to take the ball straight to goal and score easily, and the worst penalty call I have ever seen by German ref Markus Merk, who penalized Oguchi Onyewu for a non-foul against Razak Pimpong which destoryed all the USA's hard-won momentum, it was again your tactics that failed us. Let me run the list of your mistakes against Ghana.

Strip and Score: Draman hammers it home after robbing Reyna at the top of the box (AP Photo)

1. DaMarcus Beasley-- You refused to bench DaMarcus despite the fact that he played terribly against the Czechs, dogged it against Italy, and offered very little going forward for this entire tournament. If you were going to play a left wing, why not Bobby Convey, who has been just fine? The answer is: speed. Unfortunately, speed doesn't impact a first touch, and it has no impact on the ability to play attacking football going forward. Despite a lovely ball to set up Clint Dempsey's goal after a Ghana gave the ball away, Beasley was awful. There is no way he should have been on the pitch today. This is a soccer match, not an aerobics competition.

2. Reyna and Donovan-- These two players cannot play together and never have been able to play together. Now that Reyna will retire, perhaps you can see how much better Donovan can be without Reyna hindering him from the back. Playing Reyna out of position today cost us a goal; his inability to clear the ball or make a creative touch allowed the first Ghana goal. I have watched this team for years, and everyone knows that these two cannot play attacking, creative football together. That said, Landon Donovan is a very fit player and did some mighty defensive work against Italy, but his game is not on par with the Golden Boy status the USA press has bestowed upon him. Landon was invisible and the shortcomings in his game shone through; against a battling midfield that denies his ability to make dangerous, attacking runs after receiving the ball at his feet, Donovan simply didn't have anything to warrant his reputation. He will not grow in the MLS. Now, after this performance, who in Europe would want him? Not that it matters; Donovan has shown no ambition to play high stakes football abroad. Without growth, he will remain a player who could have been great.

3. Dempsey and Convey-- Should have been on the pitch together with Donovan from the get-go. Dempsey scored an absolute cracker of a goal today and showed his quality on the pitch everytime he played. He played loose, quality soccer. Where was he against the Czechs? I hope Clint makes it to England and allows his game to grow; he's terrific. Convey will hopefully play top level football for the next four years, and he played pretty well with all of the uncertainty that surrounded him. Not playing these two against the Czech Republic, despite the fact that they were clearly the two players who were ready and on-form, was clear favoritism on your part. Playing Beasley on the right, then replacing Convey with Beasley on the left was PURE DENIAL, and not sorting out the Reyna/Donovan problem is a clear sign of your inability as a manager. This is the World Cup; time to put player egos aside and do what is required to win. Instead, you played players who you like and didn't want to upset instead of setting up the best formation for the team and playing the best players in that system. Stop playing favorites!

Which leads me to...

4. Eddie Johnson-- How is it that, needing to win, you come out in a 4-5-1 AGAIN, knowing that this formation has produced ONE shot on goal in two matches? How can it be? Eddie Johnson, one of our fastest, most dangerous players is a striker who absolutely should have been on the pitch from the get go. Holding Eddie Johnson on the bench until the 60th minute was a disasterous decision, as the team was unable to put Ghana under significant pressure and was chasing the game all day long. Eddie Johnson should have started this game in a 4-4-2. Period. The attack in the second half was far more effective when Johnson came on, he should have started. Every USA supporter knew this, but once again, you refused to change when change was necessary.

Where Was The Game Management?: Arena seemed lost at sea as his team went down 1-0 in every match. (AP Photo)

5. Your "System" and Tactics-- Your tactical sense seems to be playing your favorite "boys" and scrapping the logical choice. Every smirking, arrogant person I know has a hubristic flaw, and just like a Greek tragedy, yours came shining through today: You were so sure your 4-5-1 system would work, you repeated it over and over and over again, and it NEVER came through. It killed us. In every match, your conservative approach put this team 1-0 down. We were 1-0 down in EVERY match playing your "conservative" system. We never once recovered from these starts to win a single game. Reyna and Donovan-- pick one, sit one. Sit Beasley. Convey and Dempsey on the pitch at their expense-- these players are competing; play them. Play Eddie Johnson up top with McBride. Over and over and over again you make the same mistakes, and when they are punished by goals from the other team, you refuse to make changes.

The definition of insanity is repeating the same action over and over again, but expecting a different result every time. This adequately describes your approach to this team. As a long-standing supporter of American soccer, you can't fool me. This team could have been great, and they were undermined because you did not put them in a position to win. It is a great shame; I didn't expect us to get out of this very tough group, but I would like to see my team go out playing quality soccer. I guess I have to wait four years, maybe longer. A shame. An absolute shame. I was so excited; we waited four years to get here and now it is all over, and despite a gritty draw against the Italians, I am not sure my team showed up. I will always support the USA, and I look forward to watching the game grow here, but we have a long way to go. I'll be there for the journey, because as supporters, we are the heart of this game. We'll be back. Freddie Adu, Jonathan Spector and the young players who were not here; you have four years to grow. It's time to get to work on South Africa 2010.

Coulda, Woulda, Shoulda: The USA missed their opportunities, and it cost us. (AP Photo)

Tonight, I am so proud of Team USA. In one of the most physical, bizzare, and intense matches I have ever seen, the USA ground out a 1-1 tie with Italy and kept their hopes of advancing to the second round of the World Cup alive. Italy is a three-time World Cup champion, home of one of the great football leagues in Europe, and their team simply oozes quality. In my last post, I called out the USA for playing without heart or passion and warned that, facing superior talent all over the pitch, we were looking at a probable dismantling at the hands of Italy. I never gave up hope, but realistically, what chance did the USA have against the Italians?

Thank God no one listened to me.

I'll eat some crow; I posted that we would lose 3-0 , that I hoped it wouldn't happen, but that I thought based on the formation, Italy's quality and the prior game's lack of passion, we'd get thrashed. Well, I was wrong. MMMMM.... CROW! Delicious!

I am so proud of this team. This performance looked like the USA I know and love, a team that won't quit and works hard for the win. The match is already legendary, with Eddie Johnson's 'War' analogy seeming like prescience in the aftermath of match which saw three red cards, and the Americans playing most of the second half with only 9 players against 10-man Italy. After the teams exchanged goals (Italy's Alberto Gilardino scoring against perhaps the worst off-sides trap in history and Cristian Zaccardo gifting the US an own-goal on perhaps the worst clearance in history), things picked up in a big way when, challenging for a 50-50 ball in midfield, Italy's Daniele De Rossi intentionally swung an elbow into the face of USA striker Brian McBride. The results of this grusome challenge were a straight red card for De Rossi and three stitches for McBride, who returned to the game in a matter of minutes.

Seeing Red: The Foul By De Rossi and Its Bloody Aftermath(AP Photos)

Two minutes later, and playing with a man advantage, the USA's Pablo Mastroeni is shown a straight red card for his terrible two-footed challenge on Italy's Andrea Pirlo. It may have been a tad harsh, but Pablo showed no sense making a tackle like this in his own attacking third of the field.

Studs Up: Mastroeni Earns An Early Shower(AP Photo)

Then, in the first minute of the second half, ten on ten, Eddie Pope draws a second yellow card and an automatic red for his ball-winning tackle from behind on Italy's Alberto Gilardino.

Pope Gets Screwed Again: A Second Bad Yellow Card Sees Off Eddie Pope(AP Photo)

The USA spent the entire second half hustling their asses off and keeping Italy out of the goal, and after DaMarcus Beasley put one past Buffon in Italy's net, I was over the moon, only to have the goal called back for an offside on Brian McBride, who clearly obstructed play in an offside position. With Italy putting the US under intense pressure for the final 30 minutes of the match, it was all I could to not faint when the final whistle blew. The US had done it; we had earned a draw with one of the greatest footballing nations in the world while playing in Europe with 9 men. I think the performance tonight was one for the ages; one of the greatest results for Team USA in our history.

Kudos to manager Bruce Arena for making the proper changes; I saw strikers challenging the ball all the way up the field, players closing the ball down and disrupting passes; the passion and energy for the game was back. I think we were absolutely gassed at the end of the match and held on with nothing more than pure determination. That is the USA I know and love; MY TEAM. With Ghana absolutely pounding the Czech Republic in the most lopsided 2-0 match in this World Cup, the US knows what we have to do to advance: Beat Ghana and hope that Italy beats the Czech Republic. If we win and Italy win, we are on to the next round, so I will be watching both games on Thursday at the same time in the hopes that USA and Italy, bitter rivals on the pitch tonight, can get it done and advance. There is all to play for.

Now, moving forward... This was by no means a perfect match and there are some things that we need to fix in a hurry, especially against a fast, physical Ghana team. Here are my keys to Thursday's huge match against a very dangerous Ghana...

In his recent article in the NY Times, Neil Amdur profiles William H Macy's recent trip to the Sarasota Film Festival and our screening of Edmond, Macy's recent collaboration with writer David Mamet and director Stuart Gordon. The article discusses the audience reaction to this dark and challenging film and I was really proud of how the audience handled this powerful film. Mr. Macy is a long-standing friend of the festival and the community and he brings so much good will with him whenever he comes to town, we knew right away that Sarasota audiences would be captivated by a wonderfully difficult work like Edmond. The screening was a great success, and the Q&A spilled out into the hallway after twenty minutes in the theater.

Edmond: Darkness On The Edge Of Town

Of equal importantce, the article highlights the producing work of SFF Board member Keri Nakamoto who, in collaboration with Macy and director Stephen Schachter, has been working hard to get members of the Sarasota community excited about the benefits of investing in film projects.

"During the Sarasota festival, (Macy) also appeared at a private party with his writing partner, Steven Schachter (they collaborated on the popular Emmy Award-winning "Door to Door"), to raise money for their domestic comedy "The Deal," which also stars Lisa Kudrow and is scheduled to begin production later this year. About a third of the film's $8.25 million budget is expected from Sarasota residents who have become more than casual regional film enthusiasts.

"People are starting to understand it's a business like any other," said Keri Nakamoto, a producer of "The Deal," who is also a board member of the film festival. "It's a calculated risk, but if you understand the calculation, the integrity and the type of film, these are calculations that can make money." --NY Times

I love this idea and am so excited that Keri has brought a new energy and a new perspective to Sarasota's film community. I also hope that this project ushers in a real understanding among filmmakers that Sarasota is a festival where films are not only showcased and celebrated, but where deals can be done. While most festivals hope to position themselves as places where acquisitions can be made, it is my hope that Sarasota can become a festival and community where artists find investment for their projects as well as a home for their completed films. Keri's work on The Deal offers an excellent blueprint for this type of development, and I hope that the festival continues to grow in this direction. Jody Kielbasa, our Executive Director, has been a driving force in shaping projects like this one, and with the support of the community, I think the Sarasota Film Festival can become an important festival for the development of new work. It also doesn't hurt that, when The Deal is completed, we will hopefully be working with Mssrs. Macy and Schachter to premiere the film at the festival. All very exciting.

I'll have more SFF news soon, including news for the upcoming Toronto Film Festival. Lots to do this summer. Stay tuned...

Well, it has taken me about 48 hours to be able to calmy discuss the USA's disasterous 3-0 loss to the Czech Republic on Monday. I was hoping for a draw or a win, but the absolute thrashing that the Czech Republic laid on this team was a textbook example of the difference between quality and wanna-be. The US was wholly unprepared to take the pitch, and coach Bruce Arena's disasterous decision to play left-sided midfielder DaMarcus Beasley on the right-hand side of the pitch lead to consistent problems with the team keeping possession and moving the ball forward with any danger. Not that it would have helped to put him on the left; Beasley was unable to control the ball with either foot all night long. And Landon Donovan was also invisible. As was Brian McBride, who had no service from the midfield all day long. It resulted in one of the most agonizingly bad and embarassing matches played by the US in a very, very long time.

It all started in the fifth minute, when Kasey Keller launched a goal kick up field to no one in particular. If you watched the US in 2002, you will remember that Brad Friedel almost exclusively played a short ball to his defenders on re-starts, allowing the team to build from the back and control the ball up the pitch. Keller's booming pass was easily controlled by the Czech midfielder, who passed it up the right wing to the unmarked Zdenek Grygera. Why was he unmarked? Because US left-back Eddie Lewis was all the way up at midfield. On a goal kick. Instant recipe for disaster. Of course, Grygera made no mistake from the wing since no US player was within 10 yards of him (you'll hear that again soon), and he hit a perfect cross to the center of towering striker Jan Koller's head, who buried what might be the most perfectly powerful header I have ever seen in the back of the net. 1-0 Czechs, in the fifth minute. Disaster.

The game played on, and the USA had a single chance when Claudio Reyna stepped up and hit a long range effort off the post, missing a goal by inches. Let me quote myself from the last post I wrote on here (if I may):

"If the previous games have provided any clue to the situation for the USA tomorrow, it is that in games like this one, against an accomplished, professional side, the chances on goal will be few and far between. The USA needs to finish their chances, a problem for this team in recent matches, because The Czechs will not fail to punish our mistakes. This game will come down to which team makes the most of their opportunities, and while history is on the side of the Czechs, I think Bruce Arena will have the USA focused, loose, and ready."

Well, I was wrong about focused, loose and ready. The rest, spot on. I take no solace in that, though. After Reyna's miss, it didn't take long for Arsenal's new signing Tomas Rosicky to punish another mistake. After Steve Cherundolo failed to make a rountine clearance, the ball was croosed into the box and Oguchi Onyewu headed the ball out of danger, about 40 yards away from goal, right to Rosicky who was standing unmarked in the middle of the field. Just like when Lewis blew his earlier assignment as a left-back playing upfield when he should have been home playing defense, Claudio Reyna did not mark Rosicky, and as our Captain wandered over to half-heartedly try and close the attacker down, Rosicky was clincial and struck a world class goal from 35 yards away. 2-0 before halftime. Nightmare.

Rosicky. Perfect strike. 2-0

Then, down 2-0 in the second half and chasing for a goal, the team got beat on a classic counter-attack and Tomas Rosicky met a perfect pass from Pavel Nedved and slotted home. 3-0. Game over.

Yes, Bobby Convey, we lost. Remember that pain.

This was a huge lesson. And on Saturday, more to come.

Italy has way too much class on the pitch for us. Sorry. Jan Koller is half the athlete that Luca Toni is, and Luca Toni is hungry to impress after not scoring in the opener. Gattuso and Zambrotta are back, and if you can name one of our midfielders who has shown enough imagination and ability to beat either of them, let alone match Totti and Pirlo, you will be lying to me. If Italy doesn't win this game by 2 or 3 goals, I will be shocked. I hope I am shocked, but shocked I will be. The reality is that we have too many 24 year old kids who have no experience playing at the top levels of football for an extended period, and our older, experienced players are a cut below as well. I love Brian McBride, but he is no Del Piero. Reyna is my captain, but he is no Totti. At every position on the pitch, Italy outclasses this team by a country mile. We have used moxie and the team ethic to overachieve without properly seasoned talent since 2000, but now, the chickens are coming home to roost. Heart can take you to amazing places, but unless you teach your heart how to be inventive with the ball, this team is coming home in a week's time.

MLS is a big part of the problem, surprisingly. I support a domestic league, but it simply isnt good enought at developing world class players as it has produced ZERO in 10 years. The only person on this team who plays on what I would call a world class team is Beasley, and he is terribly out of form and technically inadequate. I don't want to abandon the league, but US Soccer should put jingoism aside and recognize that the league is a developmental league for domestic players who we can then sell to Europe; end of discussion.

I am proud of my country and my team and I look forward to watching players like Convey, Johnson, Dempsey, Donovan, Beasley, Gooch, Spector and Adu grow into the backbone of a good team, but US Soccer needs to look in the mirror and get our players into the best teams on a day to day basis. Otherwise, I expect this to continue.

There is no shame in three and out in a group this tough. Last Cup, France and Argentina both crashed out in the first round and they are world powers. No shame in that, I expected it. But the lack of quality, desire, and ability to create on the ball are shocking. The US has a way to go. We can get there, but things must change.

My prediction:
Italy 3-0

Blog Crush 2006

"It's when you love somebody, and they don't love you, and you do something about it" -- Todd Solondz's Storytelling

When you have a crush, it can be a very hard thing... Just ask Samantha.

Do you have a blog crush? Do something about it.

In recent conversations, I discovered that several of my friends have on-line crushes. How to capitalize? While my blog gets insane teenage soccer fans and violent conservatives replying to me, my friend and fellow blogger Michael Tully has created a cult of personality that is hard to fathom. And so, we decided to do something about it. For the first time ever, Boredom At Its Boredest and The Back Row Manifesto join forces to present an evening of film and revelry to wash away your online blues. Step away from the monitor and come celebrate with us, our friends and 2006 Rooftop Films filmmakers Alex Karpovsy (The Hole Story) and Todd Rohal (The Guatemalan Handshake), as we go to the movies, grab drinks and create general mayhem. It will be a great time, and you can confess your online crushes in our Blog Crush Guest Book. Results will be posted on both blogs in the aftermath of the party.

Blog Crush 2006
Thursday, June 15th 2006

The Blog Crush After-Party:
11:00pm
Presented by Boredom At Its Boredest AND The Back Row Manifesto
151
151 Rivington, New York, NY USA

Have a blog crush? Use the comments below to let them know and come drink away your loneliness!

What a weekend of football! The World Cup kicked off this weekend with eight games, all of which produced various thrills and excitement. Highlights include Ecudaor thumping Poland 2-0, Trinidad and Tobago, the smallest nation ever to qualify for the tournament, holding group power Sweden to a 0-0 draw thanks to an inspired performance from West Ham keeper Shaka Hislop, and an fired-up Mexico beating Iran 3-1 with, although it is hard for me to admit, impressive style. Lowlights included a dour England side using terribly misinformed tactics to eke out a 1-0 win aganst Paraguay, and Portugal's poor work in the final third of the pitch in their 1-0 victory against Angola.

But there is no getting around it: Group C, aka the Group of Death, produced the two best matches of the tournament so far, and it only gets better from here. First, Argentina used clinical finishing by Hernan Crespo and Javier Saviola to capitalize on two chances among few and beat a very quick, game Cote d'Ivoire 2-1 on Saturday. The game was a pulsating affair, and after Didier Drogba scored in the 82nd minute to pull the CIV within a goal, it was crunch time for the final ten minutes as his team chased an equaliser that unfortunately never arrived.

Didier Drogba is fouled by Argentina's Gabriel Heinze. Or was he? (AP Photo)

Then on Sunday, The Netherlands beat an offisde trap and sent Arjen Robben sprinting toward the goal and he made no mistake, putting The Netherlands up 1-0 with a perfect strike at a full run. The game then became a physical and tense match as Serbia Montenegro sought an equalizer. The match went back and forth, with Robben dominating play with his pace and ability to beat players on the ball. His teammates may have had different ideas; post-match reports hinted about teammates criticizing the Dutch winger for selfish play and not providing service to his hard-running strikers. Either way, the goal was decisive as Serbia Montenegro went begging up front. A 1-0 final. These four teams have four more matches between them, and each will be a must-see match during the tournament.

The Netherlands' Arjen Robben celebrates his game winner. (AP Photo)

Tomorrow, Team USA takes to the pitch against a very experienced, technically masterful Czech Republic. I am so excited for the match, I have no idea how I will sleep tonight. If the previous games have provided any clue to the situation for the USA tomorrow, it is that in games like this one, against an accomplished, professional side, the chances on goal will be few and far between. The USA needs to finish their chances, a problem for this team in recent matches, because The Czechs will not fail to punish our mistakes. This game will come down to which team makes the most of their opportunities, and while history is on the side of the Czechs, I think Bruce Arena will have the USA focused, loose, and ready. I am not going to predict a result here, but I am as prepared to be heartbroken as I am to celebrate. Come what may, I stand behind my team and I hope that they can show the world how far we've come as a footballing nation. The game is hugely important: In the previous two World Cups, only one team has lost its opening match and still advanced (Turkey, 2002). So, we need a result. Let's go take it. Come On You Yanks! Go USA!!!

Kasey Keller warms up in Gelsenkirchen, Germany prior to the US match against the Czech Republic. Will he shine on Monday? (AP Photo)

I've waited four years and the day is finally here. The World Cup kicks off in just a few hours and I can't wait. Everything is in place for an amazing tournament, and I will be glued to the whole thing. I'll be blogging about my experiences with the Cup, including my personal tour of pubs showing the games, but all I know is that I am really excited to see how my boys from Team USA will perform. If you're interested in the US National Team players, check out US Soccer's Studio 90, the most in-depth video coverage of the team with amazing behind the scenes access to the training camp and the players and coaches. Studio 90 shows just what great people the US National Team players are, low-key guys who are just itching to get on the pitch and shock the world.

Eddie Johnson and Brian McBride lead the US attack

There is something about being a US Soccer fan that makes me a little defensive. Make no mistake about it, the world is quite literally against us, taking our political triumphalism and xenophobia in international affairs and turning it into fuel against our guys on the pitch. Our allies dismiss us as inarticulate neophytes, and most nations see the chance to beat the US as a chance to upset the super power structure and claim superiority over us, if only for 90 mintues. I'm as liberal as they come, but I believe deeply in the US Men's National team and the fact that they may be the best and most articulate representative of me and my diverse, complicated country on the world stage.

When I see our team suffering abuse at the hands of foreign supporters, I stand behind them, regardless of how I feel about international relations. But secretly, deep down, I see the men's US Soccer team as one of the best ambassadors we have for the nation as I dream of it. Talented, competitive, and respectful of the game, Team USA engages the world on its own terms, plays tough, fair football, and may or may not come out as the big winner. All nations have an equal opportunity to find greatness on the pitch, they simply have to earn it. Just playing in the World Cup is a hard-earned honor among the 32 final nations, and as more and more countries learn about our soccer team, the more they come to respect us for all the right reasons. There, our opportunity is equal to that of others, and might doesn't always make right. Sometimes, the little guy can shock the world. On the pitch we are underdogs who band together to overcome obstacles. The men's US Soccer team is something of which we can all be very proud, a group of Americans who can truly show the world what we aspire to as a society-- a hard working, talented, fair minded people who want to be involved in the world as one nation among many, playing by the same rules and fighting like hell to be as good as we can be.

Oh When The Yanks, Go Marching In...The US Men's National Team Train in Hamburg, Germany

Just playing in the biggest sporting event in the world and competing hard does more for our nation's image in these times than a million hours of diplomacy ever could. I have hung my head in shame at the actions of our leaders for years now, watching superstitions erase enlightnement in our policy making, watching lie after lie lead to terrible consequences both at home and abroad. But during the World Cup, I am proud to be an American and stand behind my team. They represent the best of us, the idea of the US I want the world to see, and a chance for fans to engage supporters from around the world and change minds about the American people. It's time to show the world who we are. Let the games begin and Go USA!

For all of the stories available to the American media regarding the upcoming World Cup, there has been an almost singular focus among our sports media to bring the game into disrepute and give Americans who are not familiar with the sport more reasons to ignore it. That focus has been on European fan racism and the inability of FIFA, the game's governing body, to work with football federations across Europe to bring fan racism under control.

"Players and antiracism experts said they expected offensive behavior during the tournament, including monkey-like chanting; derisive singing; the hanging of banners that reflect neofascist and racist beliefs; and perhaps the tossing of bananas or banana peels, all familiar occurrences during matches in Spain, Italy, eastern Germany and eastern Europe.

'For us it's quite clear this is a reflection of underlying tensions that exist in European societies,' said Piara Powar, director of the London-based antiracist soccer organization Kick It Out. He said of Eastern Europe: 'Poverty, unemployment, is a problem. Indigenous people are looking for easy answers to blame. Often newcomers bear the brunt of the blame.'
-- Jere Longman, NY Times

The problem is very real and longstanding. In recent years, incidents of racist abuse from fans grabbed international headlines and raised questions about football's response to the problem of fans hurling racist abuse at players, primarily those who are African, but not exclusively so.

On November 17th, 2004 at a friendly match between Spain and England in Spain, Spanish fans begand taunting black English players by making monkey sounds everytime the players touched the ball. The game quickly became physical... (click the play button in the bottom left corner).

Then, on November 27, 2005, Messina of the Italian Serie A (or first division) were playing against Inter Milan in the famous San Siro stadium in Milan. Defender Marco Zoro, a Cote d'Ivoire international player (who will be playing in this year's World Cup) was showered with racist chants by Inter supporters and was reduced to tears on the pitch. Zoro grabbed the ball and intended to walk off the pitch until players surrounded him, most notably Brazilian international and Inter Milan star Adriano, and convinced him to play on.

Enough is enough: Marco Zoro attempts to leave the pitch on November 27, 2005

Then, on February 25, 2006, Barcelona star Samuel Eto, who is a Cameroon international, also decided that he had heard enough of the racist abuse when fans of Real Zaragoza showered him with peanuts and monkey chants...

But it isn't just the fans who are indicative of the problem. Last year, Lazio star Paolo Di Canio notoriously gave the facist salute to Lazio fans after his team's 3-1 win over local rivals AS Roma. The history of Lazio and the club's connection to facist leader Benito Mussolini do nothing to soften the implications of DiCanio's actions.

Paolo Di Canio gives a facist salute to the Lazio Ultras

There is simply no excuse. The racism among fans and a very few players needs an aggressive response from players, managers, officials, clubs and especially FIFA itself. Unfortunately, the excuses being made by officials about "the difficulty of the problem" have lead to very little movement in ending the abuse. And it has to stop.

But as an American fan of the game, I also am a little troubled by the way this important story has come to dominate media coverage of the sport in this country. The problem is not something that should be swept under the rug, it absolutely should be exposed and challenged, but in an era for the game in America when there is so much indifference and misinformation around, to see how the American press have picked up the story, spreading an intital AP story through small papers throughout the nation, placing it front and center on ESPN, it just screams to me of non-fans 'analyzing' the problems of the game in order to put it down and inspire people to turn it off.

But I'm torn. As defensive as I am of the game, I do see these incidents as somewhat isolated and reflective of individual morons who are using soccer's working class appeal to further their noxious political aims, I also think it is important to bring the reality of this problem to light here in America as it doesn't seem to be getting any serious attempt at a solution in Europe. Any exposure of the problem will hopefully bring shame to those who are guilty, and I certainly support that.

In the end, what troubles me the most is the 'high and mighty' approach of American journalists who are eager to seem enlightened about the horror of racism while seeking to turn the story of Richard Lester, the only African American NASCAR driver working today (and only the second in the history of the sport after race winner Wendell Scott), into a feel-good, uplifting story. Of course, the reality is that the good ol' boy exclusion of African American drivers in sport that has strong fan identification with its stars, is indicative a huge diversity problem that hardly ever gets talked about. Instead, NASCAR gets intense coverage on television while soccer is a third class citizen. How many rebel flags have to wave before someone points THAT finger? I guess money talks.

In the end, I am hopeful that the World Cup will be the incident-free celebration of the beautiful game that we all know it can be. The fact that the tournament is in Germany, a nation still dealing with the terrible legacy of both nazism and the cold war, only heightens feelings and stereotypes surrounding these issues. I hope that supporters of the game and new fans will join in the campaign to stamp out racism. But I also hope that those in the media will put fan racism in its proper context and that together, media and true football fans can unite to pressure FIFA and the national federations to bring this problem under control. Until then, I encourage all fans to have a zero tolerance policy for racism and let the cowards know how you feel. Stand up, Speak up. The game is ours.

“Some people believe that football is a matter of life and death. I am very disappointed with that attitude, it is much, much more important than that!”--Bill Shankly, 1981

You probably know that sometimes this blog dives from the cliffs of cinema into the glorious waters of football (aka soccer). The two are equal passions of mine and at this point in my life, they take up enormous amounts of my time, energy, and focus. If movies are the way in which someone like me seeks a connection with the larger world around him, a sort of emotional travel, then football is probably the closest thing I've got to spirituality. There are moments in football that simply touch a deeper part of me, when something gloriously unexpected happens, the world shifts, and in a strange slow motion you see hope when none previously existed. How else can you explain moments like this, your team down a goal, mere seconds away from defeat, when suddenly....

I love that line... "You could spend a hundred lifetimes waiting for an FA Cup final goal like that...". It sometimes feels, when watching football, that things are hopeless for you, that defeat is certain, and suddenly an act of brilliance will realign everything you've come to expect and you are converted to a life of football love. As you learn the game, you understand that the 90 minutes of a football match are filled with thousands of moments of hope, fear, anger, outrage, bliss, certainty and uncertainty and that all of these feelings will invariably change with every movement of the ball. The idea of leaving a football match early is almost inconceivable. You simply never know what could happen, what moment of glory you might miss if you turn away for a single instant. It is like that; for me and for many, watching that thunderbolt of a goal by Stevie Gerrard in the dying seconds of the FA Cup final felt the same way I imagine St. Paul felt when he was struck down on the road to Damascus. The world seems new and you just can't shut up about it. Clearly, this post is an example.

This Friday, the most important football tournament in the world kicks off in Germany at 11:55am EST. The 2006 World Cup will be, quite simply, thirty days of football heaven. Club football, like Liverpool vs West Ham, is probably more important to most supporters of the game; 'club before country' is a oft-heard refrain. However, the World Cup unites supporters of all clubs to support their countries; rivals put aside their differences for the entire month and get behind their national team. Everywhere in the world, sick days are being lined-up, vacations have been sorted, and the entire world is ready to watch as the 32 nations that spent the last two years qualifying for the tournament step onto the biggest stage in sports. It is a huge honor just to be involved in the tournament, to be listed among the 32 teams who have qualified to compete, but for most nations, qualification is not enough. If you make it to the final, you want to win. For many, the coming month will be a rollercoaster of emotions as national pride goes on the line and the dreams of glory ebb and flow with each touch of the ball. For me, that means I will be watching the USA fighting to gain respect and win matches against some of the best teams in the world. We have a good, dangerous team, but we're massive underdogs, and that makes the side a lot easier for most Americans to love. We have a very difficult draw, and I don't expect us to win, but I hope that we will and I believe we can. I didn't think we'd do so well in the 2002 World Cup either, but the USA shocked the world and landed in the final eight of the tournament before being screwed out of a victory by a German handball (which went uncalled) and some poor finishing by our strikers. Not that I'll ever get over it. It was an amazing tournament...

I personally plan to watch every minute of every game in the tournament (thank you, TiVO!), but for those with less free time than me, the BRM presents the Top 10 matches of the group stages for you to watch and enjoy.

This past winter, deep in the throes of programming the Sarasota Film Festival, I left the office late at night and walked to the local art house theater in Sarasota to catch the final screening of the day, Michelangelo Antonioni’s The Passenger, which I had missed at the New York Film Festival a few months earlier. I had never seen the film before and despite my own issues with many of Antonioni’s films, I had heard great things from friends who had seen the restored print. It was a late night and I needed to clear my head from the piles of submissions we had received, so I decided to give the film a chance, to step back in time a little and take this rare opportunity to see a classic film on the big screen (ok, it’s a very small big screen, but still) in Sarasota.

I still can't get it out of my head. It's the best thing I've seen in months. And my oh my, how the world has changed.

In 1975, director Michelangelo Antonioni was at a professional crossroads. The Italian master, whose films L’Avventura (1960) and Blow-Up (1966) were bookends of the early 1960’s art house boom in America, had made the move to Hollywood and created one of the most notorious critical bombs in the history of American film, Zabriskie Point (1970). Financed by MGM in an attempt to capitalize on the ‘counter culture’ of the late 1960’s student movement, Zabriskie Point tells the story of a young couple, an activist on the run and a woman seeking a new job, and their free-love encounter. Crudely edited by studio executives, the film was a hodge-podge of half-baked ideas about the ‘hippie’ lifestyle and was widely regarded as a giant mess of gorgeous photography and meaningless political rhetoric that failed to make whatever indecipherable point Antonioni hoped to articulate about an American culture he barely knew. Zabriskie Point cost $7 million dollars to make, and in its entire run in American movie theaters took in less than $900,000.

In today’s world, there are very few if any Hollywood studios that would consider working with an artist of Antonioni’s pedigree on a project like Zabriskie Point; imagine 20th Century Fox signing up Abbas Kiarostami to make a film about hip-hop and you get the idea. It is no surprise that the film failed, but it is surprising that five years later, MGM decided to work with Antonioni again on another film. In looking at the Hollywood of the time, however, it is less surprising than it appears. The early 1970’s were a time of great ideas and high-quality prestige films that were the main box office draws for the studios; Paramount was in it heyday with films like The Godfather I and The Godfather II raking in the cash and the accolades, Cabaret had brought the musical into the cynical Viet Nam era, Mean Streets and American Graffiti heralded the arrival of a new crop of American directors who had ambitious ideas and a deep understanding of then history of the movies. In 1975, with the first ever summer blockbuster hovering on horizon in Steven Spielberg’s Jaws (drawing on the event movie model established by 1973’s The Exorcist), MGM released the second American film by Antonioni, The Passenger (aka Professione: Reporter).

The Passenger couldn’t have been an easy film to get financed or to make, especially after the tepid critical reception for Zabriskie Point, but there were two factors working in Antonioni’s favor; Jack Nicholson and Maria Schneider. Nicholson was coming off of the critical success of Chinatown, one of the great movies of the 1970’s (directed by Polish director Roman Polanski), and was already an established movie star who packed the counter-cultural appeal that was crucial to attracting a younger audience. Maria Schneider, the beautiful young German actress, had become a sensation with her scandalously sexy role opposite Marlon Brando in Bernardo Bertolucci’s Last Tango In Paris, a film that serves as a strong model for how MGM might have looked at The Passenger and decided to give the green light. Take an American movie star, add a sexy young European actress, put them in exotic locations helmed by an Italian master and voila*. Antonioni got his money and his stars, the film was made and MGM released The Passenger in April of 1975 to general critical and commercial indifference and the film drifted into obscurity, immediately overshadowed by Nicholson’s Oscar winning performance in One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest later that same year. To this day, Antonioni has never made another movie in Hollywood.

Who Are You?: Jack Nicholson as David Locke in Antonioni's The Passenger (Floriano Steiner/courtesy of Sony Pictures Classics)