AMC Oscar Movie Showcase Survival Guide

As mentioned on Wednesday, Bad Shakespeare and company will be attending AMC Theater’s Annual Oscar Movie Showcase. This is a glorious 24 hour movie marathon of every movie nominated for the Oscars. And because I enjoy shameless self promotion, I’ll be live-blogging it.

The real question I have not gone over yet is: How does one survive a 24 hour movie marathon in the theater. Yes, we’ve all had days where we’ve watched a bunch of movies or a bunch of TV shows. But we’ve done that from the comfort of our homes. Need to get something to drink? Hop up and get to the fridge. Bored? Stop the 24 hour marathon and go home. 

No, it takes a special strategy to be able last for a full 24 hours in a movie theater. So... here’s Bad Shakespeare’s 24 hour movie marathon strategy guide!

-Get there early. You are going to be sitting in this place for 24 hours, you do not need to be stuck off on the side of the theater, or behind some person is going to laugh. You want to hit your favorite spot... not too close to the screen, but far away enough from the door that you can hide your booze when you see the manager come in.

-Speaking of booze... an old writing trick I picked up was to sip whiskey during the night to help keep you from going to sleep. Use this, but with whiskey. Don’t drink too much too early. You’re staying up late, you don’t want to go right from being drunk to the hangover, especially if the last show is loud.

-If they show Les Miserables after midnight, singing is going to be fair game. That’s not for all marathons.

-Outside snacks are encouraged. Man cannot live on popcorn alone. But nachos... oh, nachos, we love you.

-Be nice. You’re going to be around a lot of people for a long time.

-Never bring an infant into a movie theater. This really doesn’t have anything to do with this marathon, just a general annoyance. Yeah, you think the baby is going to sleep, but then they’re going to wake up, and we’ll pretend it won’t bother us but then... you know, I’m off topic.

-Under no circumstances should you find yourself behind the counter, firing butter at people while wearing a popcorn helmet. It may seem like a good idea around 2 a.m. It’s not.

-Pay attention to the movie list. There will be one movie you don’t want to see. There’s your nap right there. Yes, you’re there to see all movies so you can make a proper pick for best picture when you watch the Oscars. But we know that no one wants to see L’Amour. Why was that nominated?

-Speaking of 2 a.m, around this time all the Lincoln and Theater jokes are going to be funny for you again. They aren’t really. Please don’t. Just. Don’t. Also, spoilers: he dies. Ok. He dies.

-Bring deodorant. Just. Bring deodorant.

I look forward to you joining us as we comment on these movies! See you tomorrow, starting bright and early!

The Only Marathon I'll Ever Run...

Show of hands, how many people knew that AMC Theaters does an annual Oscar Movie Marathon? How many people knew that a handful does one that lasts 24 hours? Now, how many people are prepared for... BAD SHAKESPEARE’s 24 HOUR OSCAR MOVIE MARATHON LIVEBLOG!

On February 23rd and February 24th, I will be taking part in AMC’s Oscar Movie marathon 24 full hours of all the movies nominated for best picture. I’ll be watching Argo, Django Unchained, Life of Pi, Les Miserables, L’Amour, Lincoln, Beasts of the Southern Wild, Zero Dark Thirty, and Silver Linings Playbook. I don’t know the order, and I won’t know until the time of the show, and I promise, a Bad Shakespeare liveblog of all the shows as they happen, right here on Bad Shakespeare. No, not DURING the movies. I’m not going to be “that guy.”

The obvious question, of course, is why? Why do I want to sit in a movie theater for 24 hours? I ask you, why not? Why climb a mountain? Why inventI did it last year and it was a blast beyond blasts. You sit in a theater, get to know some new people. And I’m going to share the experience with all of you. Of course, the ones in the middle may not be AS shared as the others. I’m staying up for 24 hours, I may get fuzzy around midnight.

I have been looking forward to this event for the past year. Last year I arrived about an hour before the first show started, not really sure what to expect. In good time I managed to meet just about everyone around me. The manager running the event was probably one of the best managers that I’ve seen, asking trivia questions, telling us how excited he was that we were there. 

Now, the important thing about a movie marathon is pacing. Yes, the best strategy is to grab that large popcorn and soda... I mean, you free refills, so you’re set for the day. But you can’t eat it all at once, or during every single movie. Remember, you’re pacing yourself. That’s where I had a problem last year: I didn’t bring any extra snacks. You need to fill up on fruit and real food at some point. Man can not live on only popcorn for 24 hours, and plus you want to save those for the later movies. It’s important that you really allow the sugar, salt, and soda carry you to the later hours.

And this goes without saying: layers. You have a bunch of people in the movie theater for 24 hours, it’s going to get WARM. Every once in a while you have to exit the theater, walk around for a little bit, absorb the fresh air. By “Fresh air” I mean “any air where people haven’t been marinating in popcorn butter and sour patch kids for the past  12 hours.” 

What makes this year fantastic is I’m going with some more friends. I honestly can’t wait to show them this experience, also, to get their permission before I use their real names in these posts, or if I use made-up names. Either way, it should be pretty interesting. And I look forward to sharing it with you, my readers! So this is one of my rare, “What’s coming up” posts that I use on days where I don’t really know what else to talk about, and I used up most of my outrage early in the week with that lady that wants to ban the books. So I hope to see you all here, Saturday, as we discuss movies. Lots of them.

To adventure!

Book Report: I Am Charlotte Simmons by Tom Wolfe

It’s difficult to talk about I am Charlotte Simmons without addressing the fact that this book is written by an almost 80 year old man (at the time) about college student. And all that entails.

Look, I understand it’s not a requirement that the person writing the book has something in common with the characters. J.K. Rowling is not a wizard. (As far as we know) Robert Kirkman has never lived through a zombie apocalypse. Stephanie Meyer has probably never loved a real sparkly vampire. And while I’m sure many a writer has put on a Batman mask after writing about him, most of them were probably terrible at it.

So why do I start out the book report of I am Charlotte Simmons by pointing out that a book written about a young girl’s experiences in the first semester and a half in college and the three men (sorta) drawn to her was written by an almost 80 year old man. Because it’s blatantly obvious while reading it. It is so obvious, that Tom Wolfe “won” an award for some of the... we’ll say dubious writing of the sex scenes (We say it like that because he can win awards for bad writing, Tom Wolfe is one of the most famous writers of the 20th century, and I have a blog), and had there been an equivalent for slang and movie references (kids to love their Simpsons), he’d probably win that, too. 

Now that this is out of the way... it’s actually a really good book, even with the silly slang and the terrible, terrible sex scenes. 

I am Charlotte Simmons is about a young sheltered but gifted girl who is starting college at a prestigious fictional university named Dupont. While there she meets up with Hoyt, a stereotypical frat boy that sets his sights on her for reasons that aren’t very clear; Adam Gellin who fancies himself the knight in shining armor/intelligent guy/opposite of Hoyt (and isn’t, but we’ll get to that in a minute); and Jojo, a basketball player who decides to turn his life around when Charlotte shows him that he’s smarter than he thinks he is. There are several sub-plots, such as Hoyt discovering a sex scandal with a future Presidential candidate; Adam wanting to publish a story about it; and Adam writing a paper for Jojo. Everything sort of comes together, pretty much as you’d expect.

The thing about the novel is that despite it’s pretty obvious views of sex, college life, and few subtle jabs at class, it also has an interesting take on superiority. Hoyt obviously thinks he’s superior in a way because not only is he in a prestigious fraternity, but because he generally gets what he wants. Adam thinks he’s superior because he believes he’s smarter than everyone else, and is thus better than everyone else. Even Charlotte thinks she’s superior because she’s not like all of these sex-obsessed teenagers that surround her. In fact the only one who’s not running around, trying to be superior is Jojo. He just wants to play basketball and just try to do his best in school. 

I almost find it difficult to explain exactly what it was I enjoyed about this book so much. Tom Wolfe has created an interesting world of Dupont. I have always enjoyed books that sort of “own” the world they create. Dupont has it’s history... you get the impression that you could visit it just on a weekend or go check out a game... go go, Jojo! (That makes a lot of sense if you read the book.) The characters themselves are fully realized. These are people, not just characters that you read about for the semester and a half. There’s even a cool little reference to one of Mr. Wolfe’s previous books, Bonfire of the Vanities. Yeah. I enjoyed spending time at Dupont, even with the painful sex scenes.

Unfortunately, Mr. Wolfe seems to take his role as writing about college students a little to seriously towards the end. It really seems like at some point he looked at his watch and said, “Oh, man... I’ve got a book to turn in!”. The ending was that abrupt. And a little happier than some of the characters deserved. I just really disliked the way the ending just sort of... ended. While he painstakingly covered almost every detail in a semester for these students, he jumps ahead and then seems to stop the story. Not really sure if any of these characters really got the point of what he was trying to say.

But as mentioned, despite it’s flaws, this is really a book you need to check out for yourself.

It's the Great Easter Bunny, Bad Shakespeare

Lent. Amiright?

Today is the first day of Lent, that magical time of year when McDonald’s breaks out the deals on fish sandwiches, and no one is freaked out by a magical bunny that leaves eggs all over the place and treats him like he’s normal.

I’m sure no matter what your religion, you’ve at least heard of Lent. It’s the time of year that Christians tend to “give something up” until Easter. Some people treat it like another chance at their New Years Resolutions, which at this point have been forgotten as quickly as the first Girl Scout came to their door and they find themselves knee deep in opened Thin Mint boxes and no memory of what happened the night before. But traditionally it’s a chance to give something up, deny yourself for 40 days and 40 nights. (Like the movie. That was terrible.)

I normally do this, but the thing is, this year, I don’t really feel like giving something up. Oh, I have my vices.... plenty of them. There’s plenty I can give up if I really think about it. There’s plenty I could “give up” for 40 days, then further binge on when the Easter Bunny comes out and sees his shadow on Easter Sunday. (I’m still fuzzy on the concept of what the Easter Bunny does. Give me the Great Pumpkin. THAT guy knows how to run a holiday.) 

I still think I should do something, but this year I should do something different. Things haven’t been going well for me, that much is clear. The “just wishing it would all get better” strategy isn’t working. So, I decided to use Lent to jump start a lot of what I want to do. I’ve decided that this year, I’m going to do one thing each day of Lent to improve my life in some way.

That’s sort of a lofty goal. I’m not really sure what it’s going to mean just yet every day. But for instance tomorrow, I’m going to make sure I get up and work out. One day I’m going to submit something to be published. I’m going to take more time out to relax. I’m going to play a video game instead of stressing about something that I shouldn’t stress about. Maybe it means I’ll just work harder to achieve my goals. Maybe it means I won’t raise an army of cats to do my unholy bidding. You never can tell with me.

I really think it’s more important to do than to just “give something up” or deny myself something for a few days when I will be binging on it when Lent is over. I want to see a result in myself at the end of it. I don’t intend to stop improving myself when all of it is over, but I’m hoping that this year I’ll see the results and get a chance to really keep moving forward.

But hey, at the end of the day, at least it will be fun to write about.

Let's Ban Books. You know. For the kids.

As anyone might be able to guess, I’m pretty much against censorship. I don’t know that I can make it much clearer than any of my previous posts. I don’t know that I hate much more than censorship, except for possibly the fairweather fans of Dropkick Murphys that pretend that they only rock on St. Patrick’s Day and not all year long. If you’re not blasting “Going Out In Style” every Friday Night, then you’re not living.

So, when I find out that a Fairfax woman named Laura Murphy is attempting to ban Toni Morrison’s Pulitzer Prize winning novel Beloved from the school that I used to attend, Lake Braddock Secondary, yeah, I get annoyed. When I find out it was because her son was having nightmares, I get sympathetic and a little less annoyed. When I find out that her son was a senior in advanced placement classes, well, then the annoyance comes back and gets replaces with slight rage, along with possibly a little bit of a headache. However, the headache is from beating my head against the desk as I try to think about what I’d do if my mommy went to the school board to ban a book that was giving me nightmares. (I’d be beating my head agains the desk, probably.)

So let’s ban the books. You know. For the kids.

Now, skipping for a moment many of the quotes in the Washington Post article I read regarding Ms. Murphy and her sincere belief that she is attempting to protect her child who’s now presumably getting nightmares at the college level, I want to discuss the fact that her child was 17/18 at the time he was reading this novel. Per the article, he was reading it before bed, and it was giving him nightmares. Of course, this is why I do not watch The Walking Dead before bedtime, nor did I read the book based on the comic book series. Of course, The Walking Dead isn’t Beloved, a classic novel who’s worst crime is telling us about a time in American history when maybe we didn’t treat people as nicely as we do now. But the kid was reading at a college level. For those of you who aren’t familiar with college level classes should probably go find a college professor, and tell him that you don’t want to read a challenging book, then wait the twenty minutes it will take him to stop laughing. 

I was very fortunate in my teacher training, I had a Professor for two semesters, Zenkov. He, like me, was very much against censorship. He was against injustice. I’d like anyone to sort of talk to him about censorship for a few minutes and not get fired up. We’d do these projects where we’d think about the impact of censorship in society, but one of the things I felt we never really talked about was who is banning the books. Not for lack of consideration. But here we have a living, breathing example of someone who is making an attempt to ban a book for what I’m sure she things is a good reason. If we ignore that her son is no longer a student at the school

Look, I’m not going to sit here and pretend Beloved is a happy go lucky book that will lift up your human spirit, or that the fact that it won a Pulitzer suddenly means that it has a magic forcefield that defends it from attack. (However, the prize itself does have that forcefield, but it only extends around the author and two of their friends.) It’s a difficult book, and it can suck to read. But how about we give kids a chance to read the book. Blah, blah, blah, blah, same point I will always make. I want to go back to being outraged about the mother and son combo, since I made the obligatory attempt to be polite.

Ms. Murphy’s kid is no longer in school. When he was, he was taking an advanced class that chose to read a book that was going to be difficult. Rather than doing the “rational thing” and discussing what issues of the book may be causing nightmares, Ms. Murphy defaults to the scorched earth policy of not allowing anyone to read it again, ever, or least not in school. And she can pretend that it’s “for the kids” but her son is no longer in school. Have I said that enough? That’s on purpose. There’s a point for everyone where you have to stop going to a high school. That’s true for parents. Your kid is no longer in school? Then maybe you don’t ask to ban a book that disturbed him. 

Pay No Attention to the Person Behind the Glasses

Howdy and Happy Groundhog Day! I hope that everyone is enjoying Groundhog Day and didn’t wake up to relive the day over and over again. Because if that happened, you probably have some sort of lesson to learn and well, that’s no way to spend a Saturday. Also, none of us are Bill Murray so you know it wouldn’t work out anyway. 

So it’s that time again – The Island of Misfit Toys visiting Bad Shakespeare. We like to keep things interesting. If you’re looking for Bad Shakespeare, he’s over on the Island doing something awesome (http://theislandofmisfittoyseag.blogspot.com). I’d thought we’d spend this Groundhog Day talking about something very important. 

Glasses.

Yes, glasses. I wear glasses and have since the 4^th grade. For much of my life, I’ve had sort of a complicated relationship with my glasses. We moved to Louisiana around the same time I started wearing glasses so it was a lot of adjustment all at once. Being the new kid is something I can deal with. Being the new kid who also looks like a bug in her glasses is another thing completely. I was the only kid in my class that had to wear glasses (at least in my memory). Being a 4^th grader with glasses is terrible. My glasses were those plastic ones that aren’t flattering for anyone. You know the ones I’m talking about. I wore them to school and then would immediately take them off once I got to my classroom. I would keep them off until my teacher made me put them on again. Usually because I was squinting. That’s why I needed glasses in the first place.

No one likes to be different when you’re a kid. In elementary and middle school, being different is basically social suicide. You tend to find kids who like the same things you do (unicorns, Jem & the Holograms, Lisa Frank folders, and New Kids on the Block) and that’s how you make friends. If you have the newest Lisa Frank folder someone is going to want to hang out with you. Don’t even get me started on Lisa Frank unicorn Trapper Keepers. We’ll be here forever.

Unless you wear glasses. When you wear glasses you’re the nerdy kid so it doesn’t matter if you have the greatest collection of unicorn themed Lisa Frank folders (aren’t all of them unicorn themed?) and every episode of Jem & the Holograms on tape, there’s not cool about you. I spent the majority of my preteen and teen years wearing terrible glasses and hating them all the time.

Here’s what I failed to realize: glasses are very powerful method of creating an identity. If I were a superhero, glasses would hide my superhero identity from everyone. Because obviously glasses make a person look totally different than they do without glasses so it makes sense that wearing glasses would be the front for a secret identity. There was a point in my life where I wanted to be Wonder Woman. I’m fairly certain that lots of people share this desire/fantasy and most aren’t even 10 years old. Anyway, Wonder Woman’s alter ego, Diana Prince, wears glasses (both in the comics and the tv show). I have to point out that my entire experience with Wonder Woman as a child was based on the tv show starring Lynda Carter and she rocked some amazing glasses as Diana Prince. I mean, it was the late 70s. These were the kinds of glasses that hipster girls wear now when they’re trying too hard. However, didn’t want to be Diana Prince. I wanted to be Wonder Woman and she didn’t wear glasses. 

Since I was way too focused on being Wonder Woman I failed to realize that the real power might in fact lie in the concept of secret identity not in combat skills, flying an invisible plane or mastering the Lasso of Truth. What I should have done in the 4^th grade was to create a secret identity for myself. I didn’t necessarily have to be a superhero since I’m not entirely sure what my superhero power would be (maybe sarcasm or 80s movie trivia) but I’m pretty certain that I could have come up with something pretty great. I mean, aren’t all little kids wickedly creative when it comes to making up stories? Weren’t we all particularly gifted in the art of fibbing? Creating a secret identity would have just been an extended fib or a slight embellishment of the truth. I would call this “telling stories” now. I should have just told a story.

I could have incorporated the fact that my family moved every few years into the story (military family). That would have totally supported the need for a secret identity. I’m not entirely sure what the glasses would have had to do with this but I could have come up with something. Anything would have been better than being “glasses face” and “nerd girl.”

As I got older, I could have pulled from Shakespearean secret identities since this was the time that I stopped watching superhero tv shows and started reading plays, specifically Shakespeare. My favorites are As You Like It and Titus Andronicus. Exile and war are totally things that high school students could get behind. The instance of disguise in Titus Andronicus is maybe not the stuff of teenage secret identity stories unless you’re interested in directing or writing horror movies. Or wanting to make a career out of baking people into pies. I still think I could have made it work. Kids will believe anything right? And it would have been totally normal to make up a fantastical story that included super powers, lost kingdoms, exile, and cannibalism. That wouldn’t have been weird at all. Or landed me in therapy for the rest of my life.

Now I’m a grown-up and I have embraced my glasses as part of me. Not wearing my glasses seems weird and unnatural. I don’t even think I need a secret identity – I just really look good in glasses. Hipsters pay lots of money for fake versions of the glasses I wear on purpose. Somehow this makes me think I won. 

Thanks for reading. If you like what you’ve read, visit me on the Island of Misfit Toys (http://theislandofmisfittoyseag.blogspot.com

Me Fail English? That's Unpossible.

So, exactly one week from the time this post has been postedly posted, I will be doing something that scared the hell out of me. No, not bear hang gliding. Not gluing acorns to myself and running through squirrel packs screaming, “Lunch time!” Nor will I be attempting to fend of the upcoming robot invasion by myself. And certainly not telling my wife what I really think of her cooking. This time next week I will be taking the Praxis 2. 

DUN DUN DUHHHHHHH!!!! (If this were a movie, the camera will pull in to my closely as I admit this. Also, the line about squirrels would probably only be on the DVD extras.)

Anyway, for those of you who are not up on the lingo and don’t want to spend time Googling “Praxis 2” that’s basically a big test that if I pass says that I’m qualified to teach High School English. If I fail, then I’m only qualified to make zany comments on the internet, but I lose my amateur status and will therefor be unable to comment on the Olympics. It’s all very complicated.

The truth is, I’m scared. It’s been a rocky road up until this point. An actual rocky road, not the delicious, delicious ice cream. I’ve been studying, but there’s so much that goes on with this particular test I feel like no matter how much I study, I’m going to miss something. There are all kinds of study guides and tests, and I’ve been looking through them all, hoping to find some secret code that will allow me to hit on the magic combo that let’s me pass this test. (So far, I’ve found a code on the back of the Constitution and another one that tells me the secret ingredient to KFC. It’s salt.)

While I’m working out my fears here, on my blog in public, I also wanted to let you all know what’s coming up. For starters, this post here is going to be my second to last post until AFTER the test, in one week. So you’ll be spending next week Bad Shakespeare-less. I know that’s like taking away your Fruity Trix like I’m some fruit obsessed white rabbit, but I have to focus on studying to ensure that I hit up my dream: Being a teacher. Plus, imagine how much better the posts will be after a whole week of things going on! 

But note that I said SECOND to last for the week. Tomorrow, I’m proud to announce a special Groundhog Day crossover between Bad Shakespeare and the Island of Misfit toys. Tomorrow, you will be reading an excellent piece by The Island’s Erin Garland, and regular Island readers will be regaled by Bad Shakespeare. Remember while I’m gone to play nice with her.

However, next week at this time, please say a special prayer/thought to whatever deity you currently believe in, whether it’s God, Zeus, or Nicolas Cage, that I pass this test, and get that much closer to being a teacher. It’s Friday, people. You’re not using any of that brain power, anyway, send it to me. Me think good.

Also, remember that there are over 119 posts (120 to be exact) on this blog. If you haven’t read them yet, they’re new to you!