V for Vendetta

Directed by: James McTeigue

Written by: Andy & Larry Wachowski

Starring: Natalie Portman, Hugo Weaving, Stephen Rea, Stephen Fry and John Hurt.

The Wachowski's want us to know that history repeats itself. They also want to be the ones to repeat it.

In the ambitious (though oft deemed vacuous) V for Vendetta, an adaptation directed by James McTiegue that puts us some thirty years in to the future and facing blatant references of over half a century past, they wage to reclaim the kind of cult-ridden philosophical glory once risen by The Matrix (though to what extent our hearts and minds will once again throb in the now signature man-versus-oppressive-machine card is yet to be seen).

Natalie Portman's Evey is more than phonetically aligned to the flagrantly elusive V, “venerable valiant vigilante” who saves her life, then claims it forever...  Herein a decidedly non-monotonous Hugo Weaving (Agent Smith in The Matrix series) lends a charming yet nocuous flair to the man in the fiberglass mask who embarks on a bloody year-long vendetta to destroy, one by one, each and every cog in the machine that once tortured and defaced him, as only corrupt government biological experiments can. In the process, V manages to transform Evey from ‘little would-be cog in the making’ to enlightened, fierce and ultimately fearless spearhead of his Guy Fawkes-inspired revolution.  

Sound like it bites more than it can chew?  It probably does, but our eagerness to suspend disbelief begs to differ, as does our dire need for something to inspire us once again.

The film proves to be, if occasionally falling short of its convictions, an extremely relevant take on the DC comic that vilified the Thatcher regime in the 80s. And while its constant bombardment of symbols may remind me of why I was rather queased by Big Fish, it lands pretty well in its vision of the ever-growing recurrence of fascist states throughout the planet, not at all helped and all but directly caused by ‘America's War.’  It gets us all riled up about the suppression of humanity, gets our hearts beating to its action sequences, and stops along the way for wit, cheese, charm, sentiment and fried eggs on toast.  

There's also something to be said here about the brilliant performances of Stephen Rea and Stephen Fry.  We're drawn in by Rea's puppy dog face (just like we were in The Crying Game), as the parliament cog/investigator hot on V's trail; and we're tickled by Fry's Gordon Dietrich, a closeted TV entertainer for the parliament-controlled network whose pending date with the beautiful Evey Hammond kicks off the chain of events that set up the film. Soon we come to realize that the date itself is a farce, as is everything under the norsefire regime, but Gordon's indubitable humanity and taste for the arts is so seamlessly linked to V's that even Peter Travers mixed one up with the other: in his Rolling Stone review he states the Koran is part of V's Shadow Gallery collection—actually it's part of Gordon's, a fact discovered by the audience through Evey's eyes and later on by the state's fingermen that raid his apartment in the wake of a controversial comic skit on his show that pokes fun at the regime's High Chancellor (played by John Hurt).   

Of course, there's a reason for the stark similarities between V and Dietrich.  There’s a reason both have compiled a wide assortment of historically and artistically significant paraphernalia, and there's a reason why they both bravely dismiss harboring Evey as the "least" of their worries at different points in the film.  Dietrich is of course the very reflection and embodiment of V's crusade for freedom of expression, in fact, freedom period.

Many agendas are addressed in V for Vendetta, some might argue far too many to fully grasp or develop intelligently beyond simplistic (namely pubescent) heights, but I personally felt the scale was right-on, and found myself vying for its John Q politic.  Vendetta is as moving as it intends to be.

Rosa A. Taveras, Professional Juggler

Chappelle’s Block Party **1/2

Starring: Dave Chappelle and guests

I wanted to see this movie for three reasons: Michel Gondry, Dave Chappelle, and the performers. I thought it would be the type of concert I have always wanted to go to: the best that hip-hop has to offer all together in one place. How could no one have thought of this before?

But surprisingly the music is what disappointed me most about the film. It wasn’t a concert movie. It was just a movie that had a concert in it. A scattered, choppy, poorly put together concert at best. I wasn’t impressed with a lot of the performances. My favorite artist turned out to be the Dead Prez, a group I had never really known anything about but whose lyrics blew me away. 

Dave Chappelle shines throughout the film. I found myself more excited about him being on the screen than the musical performers. The film helps give a little glimpse into his world. He shows us his hometown in Dayton, Ohio (did anyone know he lives there?) where he gives out block party tickets to his neighbors. Then in another scene, he offers to hire buses so that a high school marching band can come play at the block party. And he plays piano. Okay, so he only knows one song but that’s one song more than me.  I have to say, my faith in Dave Chappelle was renewed because I saw him as a really honest and generous person instead of the larger-than-life image that, according to the media, has been taking over America for the past three years.

Michel Gondry’s presence in the film is only recognized by a distinct French voice asking random questions from behind the camera. Other than that, it’s easy to forget that he directed this. There is nothing really innovative; it’s very simply done. The film could have been more Gondryesque but then it would be less like a documentary and more like a video. Suffice to say, I do like how Gondry showed Chappelle performing at the block party and then immediately afterward he would cut to the rehearsal for the performance we just saw. (Newsflash: You can actually rehearse spontaneity. I suspected this but I never really had proof.) You would think this would ruin the performance for the film audience but it didn’t. It made me appreciate the performance more because I got to see Chappelle’s process, from start to finish.

To me, Chappelle’s Block Party was more about Dave Chappelle than it was about the music and I mean this in the best of ways. To be able to stand out among so many other well-known performers proves Chappelle is more talented than I ever gave him credit for. Before he was just another pop culture entity. Now, you really get to see the man behind the mask and I guarantee that you’ll be surprised at what he has to offer.

- Gilliane Lataillade, Resident Advocate

Freedomland

Directed by: Joe Roth

Written by: Richard Price

Starring: Samuel L. Jackson, Julianne Moore, Edie Falco.

An odd coincidence—the weekend when a new report on government neglect of the largely African-American group of Hurricane Katrina victims is showcased to the real world, Hollywood dropped Freedomland, an artsy slice of race reel-ality that prods viewers to rethink what Americans’ fears and prejudices can do. Instead of the usual moralist approach to tales about racial encounters gone wrong, the screenplay by Richard Price, author of the 1998 novel, Freedomland, on which the movie is based, reveals a deeper cause of the chasms along the nation’s color lines: indifference.

According to Webster’s dictionary that means “impartial unconcern.” In another definition, because of the cruelest form of apathy from others, indifference looks like “an absence of emotional reactions.”  Indifference is what the characters portrayed by Samuel L. Jackson and Julianne Moore, the film’s stars, might cause anyone who is serious about the eradication of racism to consider. Freedomland is ripped from real-life headlines, the tragedy of Susan Smith. In 1995, race tensions grew in Union, South Carolina, when a white mother, Susan Smith, claimed an unidentified black male ripped off her car and two sons who were in the back seat. Smith knew the damage such a lie might cause in a small community where old prejudices and racial antagonisms smoldered just below a modern veneer. The woman used the fears and prejudices toward blacks, particularly males that existed in the town’s white community to hide the truth.

Freedomland is an edge-of-the-seat mystery about a New Jersey mother from Gannon, the white side of the tracks, which claims her car is stolen by a male from the Armstrong housing projects in Dempsey, the black side of the tracks. Her four-year-old son was in the back seat. The outcome seems predictable, but the end of the film takes viewers far beyond the familiar “do the right thing” sermonette to a stark portrait of a world filled with wounded souls. The spectacle prods us to respond as individuals.

Price told the Washington Post that the Freedomland novel and film are about the “American flu of racism,” a phrase which implies that indifference is an infectious organism. Anyone can be infected, which the movie clearly shows. The lead investigator, Lt. Lorenzo Council (Samuel L. Jackson), confesses to the suspect Brenda Martin (Julianne Moore), that neglect of his son is likely the reason the young man is in prison. Freedomland is inhabited by neither saints nor sinners; characters that remind us of ourselves. That makes the film harder to watch.

Brenda morphs throughout the film from bloodied car jack victim to traumatized mother of a missing child to murder suspect to a beloved and respected day care worker in the Armstrong Housing settlement. At one point she tells Lt. Lorenzo Council that only the birth of her son made her feel that she was worthy of attention. Council, haunted by the neglect he showed his own son, tries to find Martin’s child, but before he gains focus on that goal the case explodes into what seems to be a racial murder.

Karen Collucci (Edie Falco), leader of a group with a strong track record for the recovery of the bodies of missing children, helps Council pry the basic facts from Martin who slowly gains a grip on the reality of her actions. Her character is the film’s conscience. Although the actress most noted for her recent role as Carmela in the HBO standout series The Sopranos provides a solid acting job at a pivotal moment in the movie, most viewers will find that the psychological tussle between Martin and Council is what pushes the rest of the characters to the edges. The key is not what happened, but why. Moviegoers’ attentions will be held by the mystery. The details are worth the price of admission.

As the veteran street cop strung between the Blacks and the Blue, Jackson’s Council treads closely to the over-the-top, street-wise, antihero 2001 Oscar-winner Denzel Washington conveyed in Training Day. Almost. Council is saved by a vulnerability showcased from the start. Viewers will almost want to reach out to help him as the cop fights through a major asthma attack while he struggles to marshal fellow officers to rescue Martin’s son. At the same time his police officer is the poster child for what happens to most African Americans who wear the “protect and serve” blue. Astute observers will notice bits of Jackson’s Shaft and The Negotiator roles poke through as Council tries to prevent the hunt for a black kidnapper from exploding into a race war.

Moore’s portrayal of the mother is so complex many viewers will be torn—they will simultaneously feel compassion and contempt for the woman. The 2002 Oscar nominee for Best Actress in Far From Heaven and Best Supporting Actress in The Hours gives a performance that drives home to audiences that a lack of love and concern, or neglect, rolls up a big price tag.

The film’s pace grinds near the end. Jackson and Moore leave audiences a sense of hope, but some moviegoers will wish director Roth had cut the final scene. It’s like pouring sugar into an open wound. That said, Freedomland echoes a caution—when one generation passes neglect to the next, children will be the ones who will pay dearly.

- Vincent F. A. Golphin, Arts Observer

Inside Man

Directed by: Spike Lee

Written by: Russell Gewirtz

Starring: Denzel Washington, Jodie Foster, Chiwetel Ejiofor, Clive Owen, Willem Defoe, Christopher Plummer.

In movies there is a sub-genre of the crime film known as “heist” movies. The genre includes some wonderful pictures like Reservoir Dogs, Ocean’s 11, and The Usual Suspects. Usually it seems that the genre is full of several very good films, and hundreds of lesser films that are trying to do what its predecessors did. Not to mention the fact that the heist genre often falls victim to the audience’s innate ability to always see what’s coming next.

Spike Lee’s latest movie Inside Man is a shining example of a terrific heist film. Told through the hostages’ accounts of the incident, a swirling back and forth of images of a hostage situation, we the audience are taken through a fascinating, entertaining story that goes into places you never predict.

Much of the talk regarding the film has been in reference to it being the most “entertaining” film of Lee’s illustrious career. In terms of it being simply an “entertainment movie,” that may well be true; it has already proven to be the director’s most successful picture at the box office. Regardless, it is still very much a Spike Lee Joint. His social conscience shows up on screen when a Muslim hostage is treated with racism and a captive boy plays a video game where the point is “to get rich or die trying” by killing people as a South Central gangster.

Spike’s visual brilliance is, again, on display. As is his clever use of storytelling and multi-dimensional characters, where not everyone is as good or as bad as they seem. And it should go without saying that Inside Man features Lee’s near perfect interjection of Terence Blanchard’s score in all the right places.

Inside Man also includes excellent performances by Denzel Washington, Clive Owen and Jodie Foster. But the supporting cast is full of terrific turns as well. Willem Dafoe and Christopher Plummer are featured in integral supporting roles. Also featured is one of the finest actors in recent years, Chiwetel Ejiofor (Serenity, Dirty Pretty Things), whose performance is as good as anyone in the lead roles.

Overall, Inside Man is a very good picture—the kind that reminds us that sometimes quality can be found in “entertainment movies,” and this one does its genre proud.

- David Sayre, independent filmmaker/essayist

Awesome; I Fuckin’ Shot That! **** and a hell yeah

Starring: Adam Yauch (MCA), Mike Diamond (Mike D.), Adam Horovitz (Ad Rock)

A brief word if you will about The Beastie Boys. One, they could release this movie on CD and it would sell out in point two seconds. Because, other than actually getting to see The Beastie Boys live, the only thing better than watching a movie about a Beastie Boys concert is listening to the soundtrack to the movie about The Beastie Boys concert.

But wait. There’s more.  Can we have a moment of silence for Adam Yauch (MCA) and his mad editing skills? When I think about the time Yauch had to have spent going through footage shot by 50 different cameras at a running time of at least two hours each, I-I-I start to stutter. Okay, admittedly, math is not my forte but I believe the total there is, like, 100 hours of footage. But that’s not all; then he had to take all that footage, pick the best parts, put them together and make them into a coherent concert film.  That’s some crazy talent right there.

I can barely contain myself just talking about it. This movie is definitely on my DVD wish list. But I suggest you see it in the theatre, on a large flat screen, while you still have the chance. Simply because, well… IT. WAS. AWESOME.

- Gilliane Lataillade, Resident Advocate

DVD'S:

The Constant Gardener ****

Starring: Ralph Fiennes, Rachel Wiesz, Danny Huston, Bill Nighy.

Political intrigue. Conspiracy. Cover-up. I have never read a John Le Carré book but these are the words that have been used to describe The Constant Gardener, the recently released DVD, based on Le Carré’s novel of the same name.

I’m a fan of political movies. Not necessarily movies about politics but movies whose background takes place and revolves around the effect of politics. Where there is politics, there is money, and where there is money, there is corruption. No new information here. What is new is the way this movie captures the essence of its main characters without detracting from the ever-present story in which it takes place.

The topic of AIDS in Africa has been a pressing issue over the last few years thanks to the efforts of U2 front man Bono and organizations like the ONE campaign. We can’t ignore it, but this is just one of the issues Africa is facing. Director Fernando Meirelles captures the heart and the struggle of a people who are living but are suffering.

I digress here. I didn’t love the film because of its portrayal of a country in anguish but because of its critique of the reasons why this anguish has been allowed to prevail. Ralph Fiennes and Rachel Wiesz make a great pairing as a British couple that fall prey to the corruption they are trying to fight. They are not overly dramatized and are essentially real; like you or me, they just want answers.

I cried at the end of this film. Okay, so this is not a rare thing for me. I can’t help it. When a story is well done and is ultimately beautiful because of it, I cry. I cry because it reminds me of what it feels like to live this life and to understand that we all have the capability to discover and to change as long as we believe in something better.

Some might call this idealism. It is. But it is idealism brought about by inspiration. Inspiration from a film. It’s a beautiful thing.

- Gilliane Lataillade, Resident Advocate

Some Kind of Monster *****

Directed by: Joe Berlinger and Bruce Sinofsky

Starring: James Hetfield, Lars Ulrich, Kirk Hammett and Bob Rock.

See Metallica run. See Metallica hide. See Metallica fight the macho stereotype by doing the unthinkable: undertaking group counseling. Filmmakers Joe Berlinger and Bruce Sinofsky had plenty of ideas in mind when they followed über heavy metal band Metallica as they recorded their album “St. Anger,” an album three years in the making (the doc was filmed from 2001-2003), but they could never have anticipated that their “Making of” doc would turn into the definitive music documentary.

I have never been a Metallica fan—I once had a crush on Dave Mustaine (of Megadeath fame) who was part of the original line-up of the band but that’s pretty much where my allegiance ends. I have always grouped them with their fans (you know exactly what I mean) and I have to admit that I never really gave them much credit as musicians let alone as people. But Some Kind of Monster shut me up, and then proceeded to slap me around for a couple more rounds.

The film chronicles the brutal realities of drug abuse, addiction, materialism, egocentricity—all of the foundations of rock n’ roll some might argue—in ways that have never seemed so obvious, raw or naked. When lead singer James Hetfield tells Lars Ulrich that he can’t talk to him, that he can’t stand him nor Metallica, you not only see his frustration, you feel it. And, the kicker is, you actually care. I never thought I would be endorsing anything related to a band that I gravely feared and loathed as a child but I’ll be damned if Some Kind of Monster doesn’t almost make me want to go out and buy their entire back catalogue. Almost.

- Lily Percy, Editor

BOOKS:

“We sat on the couch in an almost-dark living room and started kissing. I was shy, but I didn't want Seema to know how shy I really was, so I put on an act as if I were used to all this kissing in the dark with no one around. I thought that she was probably more experienced than I was and I decided that it was about time for me to feel a girl's breast. Well, I can't say, "I decided" — I was just going on what I'd heard from all the other boys my age, especially my cousin Buddy, who was nine months older than me.

It took me about eight minutes to get my hand near the start of Seema's breast — the hairs of her new angora sweater kept coming off in my fingers, which certainly didn't help any. After another three or four minutes, I finally put my hand on about one-third of her breast. As soon as I did, she jerked away. My mouth went dry. She looked at me with such disappointment in her eyes and said, "You're just like all the other boys, aren't you?" I flushed so hot I thought I'd burst. I couldn't understand why she didn't say anything during all the kissing and creeping up the fake angora. Why didn't she just say, "No," or, "I don't want you to do that," or anything but what she did say. I wanted to tell her that I wasn't at all like all the other boys, that I thought she would like what I was doing, that I thought she was waiting for me to do it. But I was too embarrassed to say any of those things. I just said, "I'm sorry, Seema," and then wished her happy birthday and got out of there as fast as I could.”

- Gene Wilder, “Kiss Me Like a Stranger: My Search for Love and Art”

Gene Wilder begins the second chapter of his memoir, “Kiss Me Like a Stranger: My Search for Love and Art“ by asking the following question: “Can a few words change your life?” Throughout this wonderful memoir we are shown that the answer to this question is almost always a resounding yes, as words have served Mr. Wilder well time and again.

Having been raised on the brilliance of Mel Brooks, I was familiar with Gene Wilder for his frequent collaborations with Brooks—Young Frankenstein, Blazing Saddles, The Producers; these were what Gene Wilder was most famous for in my book. Always funny, whether using slapstick or his obvious sharp tongue, and yet, nevertheless, the image that I have engrained in my cinematic memory is that of Gene Wilder’s face, tragic and endearing, as the tortured Dr. Frederick Frankenstein. There has always been something about Wilder’s face, some underlying pain and mystery that permeated his every expression and ultimately drew me in, closer and closer.

Reading “Kiss Me Like a Stranger” reads like a page out of Gene Wilder’s private journals. Wilder writes so candidly, seemingly without a second thought, that everything he shares with us subsequently feels like an intimate secret. He talks at length about his four marriages, his struggle to control the demons that often paralyzed him emotionally, his battle with non-Hodgkin's lymphoma, and, most rewardingly for the reader, he shares with us his life as both an actor and a man. Although I learned numerous new Wilder facts by reading his memoir (who knew he had written so many films?), the greatest joy undoubtedly came in uncovering what I had somehow known all along: it takes a great man to be funny. And Gene Wilder is as funny as they come.

- Lily Percy, Editor

MUSIC:

Rabbit Fur Coat - Jenny Lewis & the Watson Twins 2006 

Last June, I was curiously inspired to set my eyes on a constellation in the indie music universe. I grabbed a friend and donned my brightest yellow to see Los Angeles indie quartet, Rilo Kiley. The sold-out performance was charged with intense appreciation for the group’s honest, artful creations, loyal fans smitten with their emotionally tuned song stylings and adventurous spirits.

While a heartfelt cover of Pete Townshend’s, Let My Love Open the Door, with pal Bright Eyes’ Conor Oberst and traveling companions during a second encore secured my belief in the group’s capacity and classic taste, I now realize frontwoman Jenny Lewis melted my heart into openly exploring a whole new take on music, beyond introduction to alt-country. Her January solo debut with Kentucky-born gospel angels the Watson Twins, Rabbit Fur Coat, is one of my favorites.

Homegrown on the griddle of white-soul country greats, Jenny confidently inhabits her space as an authentic storyteller, able to share her journeying snapshots poignantly. Her active imagination and sensitive attention to detail capture life moments vividly. For each set of concentrated minutes, you remember with her as she runs the reel, intuiting and living through raw emotions. In “You Are What You Love,” she is not shy about love’s ultimate reassurance:

This is no great illusion / When I'm with you I'm looking for a ghost / Or invisible reasons / To fall out of love and run screaming from our home

Because we live in a house of mirrors / We see our fears and everything / Our songs, faces, and second hand clothes / But more and more we're suffering / Not nobody, not a thousand beers / Will keep us from feeling so all alone

But you are what you love / And not what loves you back / That's why I'm here on your doorstep /
Pleading for you to take me back

On this record with foot-stomping, driving beats Jenny honors the roots that grew her soul. She yearns for the listener to do the same—to shovel and scrape away, to get at their core, to understand the details of its landscape. As she defines herself, listeners are magically awash with a warm greeting and heartened mingling of past and present, as much for Jenny as themselves.

For a record made in an old, dusty studio, each line of her message is especially sharp yet lightened by a freedom that is all the songstress’ own gentle and genuine haunting truth. As she is vulnerable with her sentimentality, a salve is formed from her personal courage as an artist and listeners’ willingness to let it linger.

It is easy to hear Jenny pour out her elixir. And as many Rilo Kiley fans will attest, she is easy to love. An alchemist—part fiery passion and easy going soul sister—she’s best friend material for musical explorations on life’s highways, road or desk side. A lovely blend of sincere vocal talent and gifted composer, she shoots songs straight to your heart.

Seeing her perform live in March, I don’t think it was accident that she smiled right at me.

- Jehan Mondal, Music Critic Extraordinaire

Cassandra Wilson – Thunderbird

Cassandra Wilson has turned in yet another masterpiece with her latest effort, Thunderbird.  Listeners will find Wilson doing what she does best—putting her own unique, titillating spin on jazz and blues. 

After releasing 2003’s Glamoured, Wilson knew that she wanted to go in a different direction.  She also knew that producer T-Bone Burnett would be the one to help her charter new territory.  Where as Glamoured had more of a laidback feel, Thunderbird has more of a funky, aggressive feel to it (due in large part to the prevalence of drums, percussion, base guitar and keyboards). Wilson effortlessly mixes the contemporary sounds of hip-hop and dance with the sensibilities of jazz and blues.  This is most evident on the tracks “Go To Mexico,” “It Would Be So Easy,” “Poet” and “I Want To Be Loved.” It’s very different, but never contrived or over the top. 

As with any Wilson album, you can expect new renditions of classic songs. Classics (standards and traditionals) seem new again when Wilson gets inside of them. Her mystical phrasing and wondrous interpretive skills revitalize Jacob Dylan’s “Close To You” and Blind Lemon Jefferson’s “Easy Rider.”  The spare arrangements of the traditional “Red River Valley” and Burnett’s original “Lost,” put Wilson’s sensuous, smoky, passionate voice at center stage.  Thus, making them two of the album’s many treasures.  

With each release, Wilson has provided listeners with compelling vocals, lyrics and music. Thunderbird is no different. Though she’s been dubbed as one of the premier jazz vocalists of our time, the musical flexibility demonstrated on Thunderbird is continued proof that she defies categorization. If anything, Wilson is a risk taker, a trailblazer and a consummate artist. Her unbending musical spirit will continue to amaze and inspire.    

~ Markell Williams, Music Critic 

SPOTLIGHT:

“Very occasionally, if you really pay attention, life doesn’t suck!”

- Joss Whedon

I am of the opinion that everybody likes something about Joss Whedon. I think this because, well, there is just so much to like.  He is a man of many talents. Allow me to elaborate.

 Most well-known for being the creator of all things “Buffy,” one of Whedon’s first contributions to our television watching world came in the form of the hit show “Roseanne.” This is where Whedon first earned his title of script doctor, which is basically a writer who takes a script, fixes it up and makes it all better. He continued to provide this service (sometimes credited and sometimes not) to movies like Speed, Alien Resurrection, Titan A.E. and most importantly, Toy Story, whose rewrite earned Whedon an Academy Award nomination. 

 Now it’s time to talk about “Buffy.” I started watching this show first because of David Boreanaz (hey, I was 15!) but I still watch it to this day because of Whedon. It has become a staple in my DVD-On-TV library. Many have noted Whedon’s ability to work with an ensemble of characters and if you’ve ever watched an episode of “Buffy” you know this to be true. One of my favorite things about this show is the dialogue. Aside from the quick wit and pop culture references that Whedon is known for, he also has his characters reference back to things that have happened to them in past episodes. I don’t know many shows that have done that. 

 Of course, there were other shows. There was “Angel,” the “Buffy” spin-off, which despite my above-mentioned teen crush on David Boreanaz, I did not watch or Whedon’s short-lived television series “Firefly” whose very successful DVD sales prompted the movie Serenity. Both shows ended prematurely but, luckily for us, Whedon did not.

 Over the past two years, Whedon, alongside artist John Cassady, has also been writing a brand new Marvel comic book series called “The Astonishing X-Men,” a title that was created especially for Whedon. The series began with the intention of restoring the classical storytelling of the X-Men of old.  Along with being nominated for several Eisner Awards (given for creative achievement in comic books) including Best Continuing Story, Best New Series and Best Writer, it has now become one of Marvel’s best-selling comics.

 A close friend who has loved comic books basically for about, well, forever, first introduced me to the series. The X-Men have always been my favorite. I love the movies. I love all the characters. I even love the cartoon version that used to come on every Saturday morning. Suffice to say, I was beyond excited when I heard that Whedon was writing the series.

 Like the great comics that came before it, “The Astonishing X-Men” series proves that a great writer is only as good as the artist that backs him up. Joss Whedon handpicked artist John Cassaday; if you ever skim through any of the issues, you will understand why. Cassady’s ability to capture the thoughts, feelings and personalities of each character through his drawings is only equal to Whedon’s ability to vocalize them. There is a quote on Cassaday’s website that describes their comic book relationship perfectly. “ [Cassaday] seems to be in a both dynamic and productive rivalry with his writer, each one striving to outdo the other.” Page after page and panel after panel, neither of them disappoint.

Whedon’s next project is writing the screenplay for Wonder Woman. I saw an early mock-up of the poster and it gave me goose bumps. He is pretty much the perfect (and only) fit to bring this story to the screen. With Joss Whedon at the helm, I find myself looking forward to it like a kid looks forward to getting presents at Christmas… Because if I’ve learned anything from watching Joss Whedon’s career over the years it is this: The man does not disappoint.

- Gilliane Lataillade, Resident Advocate

FILMOGRAPHY

Wonder Woman (In production)

Goners (In Production)

Serenity (2005)

Buffy The Vampire Slayer (2000-2003)

Firefly (2002)

Angel (1999)