Winging It

Press Secretary CJ Cregg
So in addition to Buffy and Angel and The L Word and The X-Files and The Simple Life and Millennium and Dallas and Dynasty and Firefly and Nip/Tuck and The Surreal Life and Queer as Folk and Sex and the City and others I am probably forgetting, for someone who “doesn’t watch TV” (and I really don’t!! only TV on DVD), I sure have a lot of television shows I am obsessed with.

Add to that: The West Wing.

A couple of weeks ago one of my friends (who is a huge fan of the show) mentioned that he thought I would like it. I’ve always been leery of contemporary network television, but for some reason I figured I would listen to him. He brought over season one on DVD and after watching the first episode with him, I was hooked.

Last Sunday we did an 11-episode marathon, finishing season one and getting two episodes into season two. I haven’t watched any episodes since Sunday, and I’m definitely going through withdrawal, though I doubt I’ll watch any more episodes until Friday, at the earliest — what to do??

I think what I love about the show is that it’s a combination of two things I love: politics and media. I’m a total news geek, so not only do a lot of the story lines ring true (either inspired by or based on real events), but then we see how the behind-the-scenes people have to deal with the media fall-out.

Due to that media aspect of the show, CJ Cregg is by far my favorite character. I just love her energy, her coldness (but at the same time her vulnerability), her tallness, her dry sense of humor — everything about her. And despite the fact she makes out with that reporter Danny Concannon in season one, I still think/hope she is a lesbian (how that would do anything for me, I don’t know — I just want her to be a lesbian for some reason).

My second favorite character is Leo McGarry. He is so calm and collected, it’s just awesome. Especially during season one when those goddamn conservatives are going after him for his previous drug and alcohol abuse — he reacts to things so well and is so dignified.

Also, I hate it when Leo and CJ fight — which they have done a few times. It kills me. I would rather that they make babies (even though it would ruin my CJ-as-a-lesbian thing).

Watching the show also makes me wonder if the current administration (or an administration in the future) shouldn’t turn the Oval Office into a reality show. I mean, people are already cynical and disillusioned with the American government, so why not give it a more human face? Frankly, I am really surprised that the popularity of The West Wing hasn’t made the American public, in general, more interested in politics.

Starting a new television obsession is going to be a daunting task, I know… and the fact that it is currently on network television almost makes me tempted to watch it live (which would make it the first television show that I watch during it’s actual season since The X-Files back in 2000). I know that the upcoming season will see a new president come in, so that might be a good time to start watching. I’m not sure. We’ll see how I feel after seasons two and three and four (which are all available on DVD now).

Join the Club and Mail Me!

Genesis in the Suicide ClubLast night I watched Suicide Club. I would place it in a genre of Japanese films (see also: Audition, Visitor Q, Izo, etc.) that are strange and shocking for the sake of being strange and shocking, but still seem to reflect on serious issues that less strange and less shocking American films delve into.

Suicide Club was sort of like a few types of films in one — although I called it a sub-genre, it really resists fitting under any genre.

The first half of the film is like a thriller/mystery: first, a group of school girls kill themselves by jumping in front of a train. The scene is totally over-the-top gory and actually rather humorous. I appreciate that style of violence in movies (ala Pulp Fiction and Kill Bill) where the blood and guts are so unrealistic that they parody the more violent and offensive Hollywood-stylings. After that initial suicide, more follow, including a group of high school students who form a “Suicide Club” in an attempt to be more famous than the girls who jumped in front of the train. We can’t really tell what’s going through the kids’ minds, except that they suddenly think suicide is cool and have no fear of jumping off their school building.

A group of cops begin investigating the suicides — initially labeled as “accidents,” not “murders.” They receive a mysterious phone call from a woman calling herself “The Bat” who claims that a web site tracks the suicides and that each time someone kills themselves as part of the Suicide Club that a dot appears on the page — orange dot for a girl, white dot for a boy. “The Bat” doesn’t claim to be involved with the site — she just finds it interesting.

Other weird things happen (a girl’s boyfriend kills himself by jumping off a building and he hits her ear [??? yes — her ear!], the cops discover a coil made up of pieces of human flesh, one of the cop’s children love the song “Mail Me!” by the group Dessert, the cops receive another mysterious call from a young boy or girl, the cops get a tip to look at the 6th chain, the family of one of the cops’ all commit suicide, etc.) and then “The Bat” and her friend are abducted.

Then the movie goes all-out strange. “The Bat”‘s abductors are a gang that calls themselves the Suicide Club, which is lead by a flamboyantly bizarre character named Genesis. He does a song and dance number about suicide and being lonely and wanting fame. He claims that he uses the internet to convince people to kill themselves — he doesn’t explain how, exactly, he does this, and I’m pretty sure that, as an audience, we’re supposed to be skeptical of his claims.

Eventually “The Bat” is given access to a computer and she sends an email to the police telling them where she is being held. The police arrest Genesis and his gang (Genesis notes that ever since he was a kid he’s wanted to be famous and that he is the “Charles Manson of the Information Age”). Everyone is lead to believe that with the arrest of the Suicide Club, the rash of suicides will stop.

Of course, they don’t.

The movie then shifts to follow the girlfriend whose boyfriend killed himself and hit her ear. She goes back to his apartment and notices all of the Dessert stuff he has (posters, books, ring tones, etc.). After examining one poster up closely, she decodes (via a telephone number and the word that the numbers spell) the word “suicide” being signaled by the group. She calls the number and is vaguely invited to tomorrow’s Dessert show.

Once she arrives at the stadium, things get even weirder. She finds lots of little kids who speak to her in cryptic, probably metaphoric, phrases. I am going to go out on a limb and suggest that if I knew more about Japanese culture/history and some of the original language these scenes would have more meaning. Or, maybe they are intended to be oblique. I don’t know.

Ultimately, the girl basically joins the new cult (created by little kids?? so that people can connect with themselves??) and a piece of her back sliced out (so that the kids can make another one of those coils of skin). When the cop recognizes a piece of her tattoo in the newest coil, then sees her on the subway track, he assumes she is going to kill herself, but doesn’t — so Dessert and their videos and the little kids aren’t really behind all the suicides? Who knows?

The movie ends with a Dessert video about jigsaw puzzles and fitting in, which echoes a statement that Genesis made during his arrest.

Honestly, the movie was whacked but had my total attention.

One last bit: I’ve noticed that there are quite a few Japanese “horror” movies in which the internet is used to spread some sort of social virus — suicides, etc. In addition to Suicide Club, the role of the internet was sort of like Pulse, and to some extent, the idea of technology transmitting evil is also present in The Ring/Ringu. I’m guessing these films address a social anxiety (and not just unique to Japan, but the world in general) about the growth of technology or something like that. I’m sure this could make a great essay or something, but for now I’ll save it for this aside.

A New Sith, or Revenge of the Hope

R2-D2, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Chewbacca
In what would have to be one of my favorite examples of “over-reading an under-read text” or “double reading,” I’ve come across “A New Sith, or Revenge of the Hope: Reconsidering Star Wars IV in the light of I-III by Keith Martin, which reinterprets Star Wars: Episode IV: A New Hope based on the events at the end of Star Wars: Episode III: Revenge of the Sith.

After Sith came out, lots of fans noticed some pretty major continuity errors in A New Hope: Why doesn’t Obi-Wan recognize R2-D2? How did Chewbacca end up with Han Solo after fighting in the Clone Wars alongside Yoda? Why doesn’t Darth Vader realize that Luke and Leia are his children? and so on.

Martin’s re-reading of A New Hope suggests that R2-D2 and Chewbacca are top Rebel operatives passing messages back and forth, that Qui-Gon serves as a relay allowing Obi-Wan and Yoda to communicate, that R2-D2 setup Obi-Wan and Luke’s meeting with Chewbacca and Han Solo, that Leia was intended to meet Obi-Wan in order for him to assess her powers of the force, and that Obi-Wan let himself die in order to create a disturbance in the force so that Darth Vader wouldn’t recognize Luke and Leia.

I think what I like the most about this theory is that it renders our original understanding of A New Hope as total nonsense. Everything we thought we knew turned out to be a deception or misunderstanding. In a way, the movie is radically different — nothing is random and everything was setup or manipulated by either Chewbacca, R2-D2, or Obi-Wan.

I’m not sure how serious Martin is about this interpretation, but it sure helps me appreciate the movie more.