Art of the Can

The cost of being a cheap bastard is finding yourself swigging a sugar-free Red Bull and vodka at the Modern because Stuff@Night said it was on them, as part of a one-night reprise of the Red Bull Art of the Can Exhibit.

The drink wasn't all that bad. It was the cup(s) of joe at work, the cappucino at Loews, and the diet coke(s) after the lack of hors d'ouvres obliged us to -- gasp -- pay for food at Beer Works afterwards. I was vibrating like a coffee pixie the whole T-ride home.

This wasn't a complete showing of the exhibit, but enough to get the idea. The winning pieces were present. (Oddly, Bulls of a feather, which they used for most of the promotional materials, did NOT win.)

As to the Modern, the wall behind the bar is effectively a lightbox. The transparent bottles all lined up is fairly artful. Worth checking out if you'd bother with Lansdowne street when it's not free, which isn't really my scene.

Art of the Can

The cost of being a cheap bastard is finding yourself swigging a sugar-free Red Bull and vodka at the Modern because Stuff@Night said it was on them, as part of a one-night reprise of the Red Bull Art of the Can Exhibit.

The drink wasn't all that bad. It was the cup(s) of joe at work, the cappucino at Loews, and the diet coke(s) after the lack of hors d'ouvres obliged us to -- gasp -- pay for food at Beer Works afterwards. I was vibrating like a coffee pixie the whole T-ride home.

This wasn't a complete showing of the exhibit, but enough to get the idea. The winning pieces were present. (Oddly, Bulls of a feather, which they used for most of the promotional materials, did NOT win.)

As to the Modern, the wall behind the bar is effectively a lightbox. The transparent bottles all lined up is fairly artful. Worth checking out if you'd bother with Lansdowne street when it's not free, which isn't really my scene.

movies

5 new movies in a week. (If I kept this pace, I could catch up with talonvaki by... as early as 2010, maybe. Not likely.)

Saturday was Sideways, which I enjoyed. Most of my struggling writer friends didn't. Well-filmed, well-acted, etc.

Sunday was The Parrots of Telegraph Hill, which being set near that other bay, will likely resonate with a lot of folks on this side of the Bay2Bay wormhole. Geeks! Freaks! Expensive Real Estate! Yes, wait long enough, and you'll find out how the Birdman managed to afford such a prime locale. A definite "drat, I shoulda brought hrafn" kind of flick, even though her birds aren't the gay pride couple after all.

Tuesday was the free screening of Millions. I've attended a lot of sneak preview screenings. This was the first time they actually checked us for cameras. Fascinating. I kept trying to figure out what would be a good double feature for this: Time Bandits? Mermaids? Real Genius? The Fisher King? I settled on Time Bandits, but that is also one of my favorite films. Director Danny Boyle was there for a Q&A afterwards, and very funny. (Someone else wrote a longer review at freescreenings.)

Wednesday I decided to NOT stay home and enjoy my long-awaited cable. The Wedding Date, even at second run prices, may have been worse than just watching Four Weddings and a Funeral again, which is at least a decent chick flick, even without the comparison. The Wedding Date also set in England, attractively filmed, and considering the script they had to work with, the actors did a spectacular job. The script was... AARGH! What should've been the first Half of the film was edited down to the opening credits. If someone claims such moral qualms about prostitution, we need a little character development before she raids her 401(k) to fly Mr. Pretty Woman to London for a week. She had no reasonably attractive male friends who knew enough about her to successfully fake it for a week, and far more cheaply? I could go on for pages. Fluffy can be done well. Not this time.

Thursday, because I figured I should, I saw Million Dollar Baby. Exactly how many Oscar contenders can be narrated by Morgan Freeman, anyway? If you haven't seen it yet: it has a downer-enough ending that you probably shouldn't see it by yourself. You might find yourself sounding pathetic on the phone about the idea of drinking Red Bull alone.

(Luckily, Purple was immediately available as a social stunt double. I hadn't seen her since November. We had plenty to catch up on. And... they played funkytown. Hearing that with the woman who inspired my Annoying Phone Tones was, well... a moment.)

movies

5 new movies in a week. (If I kept this pace, I could catch up with talonvaki by... as early as 2010, maybe. Not likely.)

Saturday was Sideways, which I enjoyed. Most of my struggling writer friends didn't. Well-filmed, well-acted, etc.

Sunday was The Parrots of Telegraph Hill, which being set near that other bay, will likely resonate with a lot of folks on this side of the Bay2Bay wormhole. Geeks! Freaks! Expensive Real Estate! Yes, wait long enough, and you'll find out how the Birdman managed to afford such a prime locale. A definite "drat, I shoulda brought hrafn" kind of flick, even though her birds aren't the gay pride couple after all.

Tuesday was the free screening of Millions. I've attended a lot of sneak preview screenings. This was the first time they actually checked us for cameras. Fascinating. I kept trying to figure out what would be a good double feature for this: Time Bandits? Mermaids? Real Genius? The Fisher King? I settled on Time Bandits, but that is also one of my favorite films. Director Danny Boyle was there for a Q&A afterwards, and very funny. (Someone else wrote a longer review at freescreenings.)

Wednesday I decided to NOT stay home and enjoy my long-awaited cable. The Wedding Date, even at second run prices, may have been worse than just watching Four Weddings and a Funeral again, which is at least a decent chick flick, even without the comparison. The Wedding Date also set in England, attractively filmed, and considering the script they had to work with, the actors did a spectacular job. The script was... AARGH! What should've been the first Half of the film was edited down to the opening credits. If someone claims such moral qualms about prostitution, we need a little character development before she raids her 401(k) to fly Mr. Pretty Woman to London for a week. She had no reasonably attractive male friends who knew enough about her to successfully fake it for a week, and far more cheaply? I could go on for pages. Fluffy can be done well. Not this time.

Thursday, because I figured I should, I saw Million Dollar Baby. Exactly how many Oscar contenders can be narrated by Morgan Freeman, anyway? If you haven't seen it yet: it has a downer-enough ending that you probably shouldn't see it by yourself. You might find yourself sounding pathetic on the phone about the idea of drinking Red Bull alone.

(Luckily, Purple was immediately available as a social stunt double. I hadn't seen her since November. We had plenty to catch up on. And... they played funkytown. Hearing that with the woman who inspired my Annoying Phone Tones was, well... a moment.)