A Blessing and a Curse
Mark Stuart has only himself to blame. The name was his idea – even if he didn’t mean it to stick – and the stories associated with it are good ones. But Stuart is considering hanging up Bastard Sons of Johnny Cash as a band name when he moves to Austin, Texas, from San Diego next year.
Sarah Silverman is no Snakes on a Plane, but the slapdash movie bearing her name suffers from the same problem: overexposure.
Much like the Boston Red Sox, the movie Game 6 hauls so much baggage that triumph seems nearly impossible. It’s akin to
So we’ve dealt with
The
We rarely take a Faulkner sentence and examine it in isolation. We generally don’t inspect a song’s introduction, or chorus, or bridge, without even dealing with the context of the whole. We don’t study the corner of a painting, pretending that there’s nothing beyond it. Maybe we should.
The film’s subject makes it bluntly political, yet Syriana nearly demands multiple viewings to even understand its plot, let alone its meanings. It is intended to illuminate that the business of oil is a dirty one, yet even people who pay close attention to the movie will come away from it more confused than enlightened.