On this, the eighth day of my nine-day break from work, I can say that, other than watching movies, I have not accomplished what I hoped. I watched too much pointless television, ate too much bad food ("bad" as in "bad for me", not bad-tasting), wrote only in this space, didn't do anything even remotely outdoorsy, probably spent less time with my children than either they or I wished, read little of consequence, and spent a ridiculous amount of money. Luckily, it is now New Year's Eve, the time for reconsiderations of past indiscretions and resolutions of improved future behaviour, so tomorrow I will get to make a fresh start. Tomorrow's posting will be dedicated to a review of my resolutions for 2005, the failure rate in attaining same which I presently estimate at 90%. On the positive side, I won't have to expend much energy in coming up with my 2006 list.

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I have been reading "The New Biographical Dictionary of Film" and getting considerable enjoyment out of same. It's a very personal and idiosyncractic book, with author David Thomson writing about film artists and personalities of interest to him, and not really considering whether they are "stars", although the biggest are not neglected. The book is meant to be dabbled in, to follow a whim from entry to entry. In my brief readings so far, I have jumped around, checking out favorites as the mood strikes me. A very pleasant read.

Thomson offers an opinion about Keifer Sutherland and "24" that is very much akin to my own perception of that show's genius:

Indeed, part of the 24 cult, I think, rests in Sutherland's ambivalent nature, and his record as an outsider figure who might do anything. 24 was always at its best when Jack Bauer was shaky - hardly able to trust himself - and that is the Keifer Sutherland beloved by that small band that reckons Truth or Consequences, N.M. one of the medium's great titles, and Freeway one of its masterpieces.

Although Jack Bauer is now "dead", "24" is two weeks away from another year of brilliance, and thanks to the good folks at Fox I have an inkling of what is to follow. The link for the season 5 trailer is http://www.fox.com/video/index.htm?cat_id=24inside_season4&clip_id=24inside_422. If it doesn't work, just go the "24" website and you can find it in the "video" section. Prepare to be blown away.

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Happy New Year!

In the end, I saw neither "Kinsey" nor "Hitch" yesterday. Instead, my wonderful wife granted me a day away from the homestead. In the morning, I cashed in gift certificates from Chapters/Indigo ($50 from my mother, used on two magazines - Creative Screenwriting and MovieMaker - and a book, "The New Biographical Dictionary of Film" by David Thomson, which I have been eyeing for more than a year while I waited for it to appear in softcover) and Music World ($20 from Maxine, with which I purchased "best of" collections from Johnny Cash and The Tragically Hip). After a quick lunch of fried rice and orange chicken, I was off to see "King Kong".

Spoiler alert - some plot information follows.

There is no question that it is a powerful and exciting film, and Peter Jackson should be applauded for going back to the well so soon after the astonishing achievement that is "The Lord of the Rings" trilogy, unlike, say James Cameron, who seems paralyzed by fear of failure ever since "Titanic". Adrian Brody is a solid if unexpected romantic lead, Naomi Watts is more beautiful than I imagined (at times, her resemblance to Nicole Kidman is eerie) and her performance is heartfelt and uplifting, and Jack Black's excesses are toned down to the point where he is more tolerable than usual. Jackson's CGI wizards and actor Andy Serkis can add Kong to Gollum on their list of lifelike digital creations. Never for a single moment do you doubt that this a real creature, an amazing giant beast captured on film. The effects are stunning, from Kong himself to the exactingly created world of Skull Island - the native sacrifice ritual, the dinosaur stampede, the terrifying giant insects and worm-like creatures in the chasm, the giant bats - to Kong's final rampage through New York City enroute to his meeting with doom at the top of the Empire State Building.

And yet, there is an emptiness at the centre of this movie that is surprising, given it's director's obsession with the original. Part of this is due to the lack of a true romantic hero to root for. Brody's Jack Driscoll is the nominal romantic lead, the playwright turned rescuer, but the true romantic lead is Kong, the beast tamed by Ann Darrow's beauty. This isn't a creepy sexual relationship, but rather the joy of Kong, the last of his kind, finding a true friend in the wilds of Skull Island, and his powerful loss when she is taken from him, with their reunion sealing his doom but pursuing it nonetheless. Driscoll is lacking because there is no way for him to defeat Kong. While the military shoots at the great beast and Ann puts herself in the line of fire, Jack is running across the city and into the Empire State Building, then ineffectually watching the floor numbers pass as his elevator rises. After Kong is dead, his reunion with Ann at the top of the world is artificial, unearned. The one who truly loves her lies on the street below.

Perhaps the rest of the emptiness comes from my own expectations. The "Rings" saga is such a rich adventure, with almost two dozen fascinating characters and a great mythology holding them all together in a world falling apart. There is true romance and magnificent friendship, both tested and found worthy. Every reward feels earned, and the set pieces contain some of the most astounding visuals yet put to film. And there is a core in, not Frodo, but Gandalf, who unites the many disparate entities together in a quest and whose spirit hovers over the entire proceeding. "King Kong" cannot hope to compete with this, and it is unfair to expect it to. Yet Peter Jackson will always be judged against his greatest achievement, and he has not flinched in the face of that challenge. "King Kong" is a rousing adventure story, and time well spent in the cinema. That it is no more is perhaps a commentary on the lack of truly great stories in this world, and shouldn't be held against its able creators.

Thoughts that occur to me while browsing the January 2006 issue of Blender:

I was taken to task last month when I decided that Ashlee Simpson was hot, and I may be risking a similar response with this next statement: I don't care what she does or does not wear, but there is no way that anyone will ever convince me that Kelly Clarkson is sexy. While prettier and obviously more talented than Ashlee, she lacks, for me at least, that certain mystical element that makes a woman physically attractive. Sorry, Kelly, the romance is off.

Is the guy in the Boost Mobile ad's head HUGE, or does it just appear that way because his arms are so big and he has no neck?

Still not sexy on page 6. But maybe a little mysterious, which helps.

I still think Ashlee looked pretty damned good last month. But the cover of Cosmo glimpsed while standing in line at Dominion confirms that it was a passing thing.

Can Lola sing? Do I care?

Could someone shut Sharon Osborne up? Or at least tell her that no one cares, that she is a celebrity wife, not truly a celebrity in her own right, that no matter what she might accomplish that it is only because she married Ozzy that she was ever given the opportunity, and that most of us have no interest in any opinion she might choose to spout off with? Do that for me, will you, because I'm bored senseless by her shenanigans.

Hey, Ted Nugent, you rock! Quote, re Sharon Osborne, on the very next page: "I think she oughtta be slapped silly." Bring my guitar and gun!

Jessica Simpson: "I would be a therapist if I weren't an entertainer." Sometimes, there are quotes so perfect they need no further commentary.

Best line from a great Q&A with Rivers Cuomo, who has been celibate for more than two years: Q: "Are you a tit man or an ass man?" Cuomo: "I don't remember."

You know how a lot of women say they don't care what a man looks like if he can make them laugh? Trust me on this one, it's all over the singles ads on dating web sites. Well, it's true for lesbians too. How else to explain Portia De Rossi's romance with Ellen Degeneres? I've always found Portia quite attractive, and after "Arrested Development" have respect for her as an actor. The picture on page 49 is slightly skanky, which only enhances her appeal. Two things that stand out from this piece: she's a law school grad in her native Australia, and she likes alternative music, a lot of it from the early '90s. Good taste. [By the way, I never thought Ellen was funny until "Finding Nemo". And she is great on her talk show, which is a guilty pleasure I sometimes allow myself on sick days. I think Ellen just needed to find the right forum for her humour.]

Don Henley believes that toilet paper should come off the top of the roll and not the bottom. This, of course, is obvious, and I remain mystified that some people, including my wife and children, just don't get it. Unlike Henley, I see no need to write a detailed memo explaining why this is so. But I feel your pain, Don.

If further proof was needed that 2005 was a largely crappy year for music, take a look at the nominees for lyric of the year. Other than Franz Ferdinand, and I guess The Hold Steady, are any of these even remotely clever?

Kelly Clarkson quote #1: "Jesus drank. It says in the Bible he had a glass of wine. I don't know if he actually drank it, but whatever." Ah, the old I-was-holding-it-for-a-friend defence.

Justin Guarini: Not dead yet. But working on it.

Kelly Clarkson quote #2: "Naked women are beautiful - when it's tastefully done." She had me up until the hyphen. I just don't get the rest.

Thanks to Blender's annual "best of" lists, I have new music to explore. Last year, they introduced me to several artists who made 2005 a nicer place to be sonically: A.C. Newman, Katy Rose, Magnetic Fields, Snow Patrol, Todd Snider and Drive-By Truckers. Given how few of the names I recognize on the latest list, I have a lot of music to check out over the next few months.

U2's typical take from a concert is $3.7 million. Just let that number roll over you for a bit.

Is it sacrilege to give "Born to Run" only four out of five stars? I thought there was no shaking the consensus that this is one of the greatest albums ever? I count six new releases that also rate a four, all of which I expect no one will be listening to in five years, let alone 30. Doesn't Bruce somehow deserve better? Or are we reassessing him now that he's not the beautiful rebel of 1975? Turn back a few pages, folks, and you'll see him with your #17 album. Still seems pretty valid to me.

Just the fact that they say "Cursed" is the worst movie of the year makes me want to check it out on TMN, where it is presently playing. The opportunities to experience true badness are so rare.

A few days ago, my wife mentioned seeing some items in the sporting goods section at Zellers that reminded her of the Liberator. This is how you know you've found the perfect partner: she notices things like that.

Remember when that homemade porn video of Fred Durst made the rounds? Did anyone care? Paris Hilton, sure. But Fred Durst? Fat and bald: it'd be like watching your dad in action. It smelled like a publicity stunt, which makes sense since it was the only news story involving Fred in the past year or two. He blamed it on hackers, who we all know like to spend their time looking for sex videos starring fat has-been rap rockers. Score!

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My own picks for album and song of the year:

Album - Fiona Apple, "Extraordinary Machine" (#2 in Blender, behind M.I.A.'s "Arular")

Song - Franz Ferdinand, "Do You Want To (#10 in Blender - other faves that made their list include "Speed of Sound" by Coldplay (#16), "Feel Good Inc." by Gorillaz (#24), "4Ever" by Veronicas (#41) - two other favorite songs of 2005 are a pair from Green Day - "Boulevard of Broken Dreams" and "Whatsername" - but I don't count these since they're on a 2004-released album)

So, what have I been doing over the last few days instead of writing? On Christmas Eve, we had eight people over for a gathering. On Christmas Day, my brother Darren, who had slept over, stayed until 3:00. On Boxing Day, my wife's sister and her family spent most of the day. Yesterday, I recovered from the previous three days. Today, I mostly lazed around and read, but I am nonetheless back behind the keyboard.

True to my intentions, I have used the break to try and catch up, at least a little, with some older movies. On the 25th, Darren and I watched "Something's Gotta Give", which was never quite bad enough to give up on nor good enough to enjoy. Sadly, Jack Nicholson has become such a caricature of himself that I can no longer tell when he is giving a performance or recounting an event from his life (the most recent exception being 1996's "Blood and Wine"). On the 26th, it was the lesbian spy comedy/thriller "D.E.B.S.", which I enjoyed quite a bit, especially the performances of Jordana Brewster, as crime queen Lucy Diamond, and Jimmi Simpson, channeling Paul Giamatti as her #2, Scud. The 27th was Pedro Almodovar's "Bad Education", which was magnificent. It certainly isn't a film for everyone, with discrete but unvarnished portrayals of gay male relations, and I have to admit being a little uncomfortable with the subject matter at times. But the story is a doozy, with twists galore, every one unexpected but perfectly reasonable, and all the elements of a first-rate film are evident, from the performances of Gael Garcia Bernal and Fela Martinez to the music and camera work. This is my first Almodovar film - frankly, inexcusable for someone who so enjoys movies - but it will certainly not be my last.

Today, I watched "Alexander", which was pure Oliver Stone bombast. Stone has long been more of a propagandist than a filmmaker, and "Alexander" is no exception. Even at his best, his reach for greatness has more often than not been corrupted by a crass sensibility. There is little subtlety in a Stone film, everything painted in bright colours with symbolism so blatant that my seven-year-old couldn't miss the point. Yet, this film is compulsively watchable, even when the story becomes muddled, when the language is unbearably trite and on-the-nose. Colin Farrell makes up for the last film I saw him in (the hideously stupid and predictable "S.W.A.T." - you know you are in an epically bad film when even Samuel L. Jackson can't redeem it even a little) with an often nuanced performance as the young king of the world, and Val Kilmer continues his underrated career as Alexander's father Philip. Gary Stretch also stands out as Cleitus, and any time Rosario Dawson wants to take her clothes off in front of the camera, she need only let me know and I will gladly buy a ticket. Next on my list (if I wake up early enough tomorrow): "Kinsey". Otherwise, the girls and I will probably curl up on the chesterfield tomorrow evening and watch "Hitch".