The odder thing, of course, is that the whole movie is fiction (it’s a movie about a fiction writer who is inadvertently killing real people off left and right in her novels, and one person who finds out and doesn’t want to be axed), hence, the title is actually an ironic twist. Hah!
So here’s the deal (this is a spoiler warning, don’t read if you haven’t seen it yet and don’t want to be surprised when you do). In Stranger Than Fiction, Harold Crick (Will Ferrell) is an IRS agent who, one day, begins hearing a voice narrating his life. He thinks he’s going crazy, but his attempt to find answers eventually leads him to a literature professor who in turn gets him in touch with a writer played by Emma Thompson, who has apparently somehow inadvertently controlling the threads of fate.
Long story short: it’s a cute, funny movie and should be required viewing of any current or past English major, as well as any English professor. I have to admit one of the things I liked about the movie was the ugly concrete slab that served as Dustin Hoffman’s classroom building. It looked like Towson’s Enrollment Services building … but I digress.
I don’t know how good of an English professor Dustin Hoffman is. Apparently, he’s a professor of litererary theory. When he’s trying to help Crick determine what kind of story he’s in, he tells Crick the characteristics of a tragedy and a comedy. Something like, “in a tragedy, you die. In a comedy, you get married.”
Fair enough, but not a complete definition. In a tragedy, the choices made by the character lead to their downfall. Crick makes very few choices in the movie, and the big one — at the end — is actually made by Thompson. Of course, I guess you could argue that his decision to tell Thompson to go ahead with her ending is what makes this a tragedy. On the other hand, I’m still a little puzzled Hoffman never told Crick, “Well, this might be a tragedy, except you don’t seem to be making the choices leading to your downfall. Rather, Emma Thompson and her typewriter are doing that for you.”
Whatever. I liked it, and’ll watch it again.
The best take on the now-departed “Believe” slogan of Baltimore?
“Bohlieve”, as seen on a guy’s sweatshirt here in the Brick. As you might imagine, the “O” is a little Boh face.
Last week, Syrian’s envoy to the United States participated in a discussion at Towson University which earned mention in the Towerlight in part because of students protesting Syrian policies. Turns out Imad Moustapha has a blog, and while I’ve only had time to briefly scan it (my first test of the semester is tomorrow and, yes, I’m worried about it and have a stack of index cards a mile deep and am skipping my first class to study), I chuckled at his reference to the school as “the Maryland State University of Towson.”
Sounds high-class, doesn’t it? I guess he didn’t get a good luck at the building he spoke in, because if there’s one thing Linthicum Hall isn’t, “high class” is it.
***
Also: related to my post last week on the upcoming new CLA building, Towson continues to expand. Clearly, I’m distracted because when I read the article and read “phase one”, I then followed up in my head with “preparation for assimilation..*” Hopefully, however, Klingons won’t actually be moving to Maryland (although, on the other hand, they might prove more willing to act on their “aggressive feelings” when dealing with Maryland drivers).
*(Phase One, preparation for assimilation…” is a line in STVI referring to the evacuation of the Klingon homeworld’s population to the Federation).
Because I’m a snarky asshole, let me just ask: if you had to choose between life without a garage door opener or a television remote, which would you do away with? I’d do away with my garage remote, but never mind that I live in an apartment and don’t actually have a garage.
But neighbors of the Marine base here have been reduced to just that after a strong radio signal coming from the facility began neutralizing remote-control openers.
Residents have had to spend hundreds of dollars on new systems.
It’s like that commercial where the guy is flipping the light-switch in his garage and his wife is telling him she’s looking (but she isn’t), and three houses down, some old lady’s garage door keeps crashing down and going back up and crashing back down again on her car’s hood. Except, the people down in Quantico probably aren’t laughing too much. Seriously, though, isn’t this a residential risk of living in a town known not for its culture or delis or wine-tasting festivals, but rather as a place synonymous with “government black ops”? I think … yes.
