Thursday, July 23, 2009

"FLY ON THE WALL II"

INT. UNITED CENTER - THURSDAY, JULY 23, 2009, 4:20 P.M.

FORMER GENERAL MANAGER DALE TALLON sits behind an empty desk, SNIFFLES as he scribbles a hand-written note in pen. He pauses to wipe a tear away as he looks over the letter.

BLACKHAWKS "SENIOR ADVISOR" DALE TALLON (V.O.)
Dearest Marty ... You have to know how much it hurts me every waking moment of every single day that we are now separated from one another in this godforsaken world. While I'm eternally grateful that Rocky's still a big ol' sentimental son-of-a-gun and is keeping me on the payroll, I can't tell you how sorry I am that those goddamned Bowmans came in here and let McDonough disrespect you like that. You obviously have to know that you would still be a Chicago Blackhawk today if you had simply just——
Door FLIES OPEN.

BLACKHAWKS GENERAL MANAGER STAN BOWMAN
Dale, did you get that paperwork for "BWAH" filed like I asked you?
Tallon opens desk drawer, quickly pulls out a stack of blank papers. He begins fumbling with them, putting his letter to Havlat in the back of the pile.
DALE
Oh, it——it's here somewhere. Ha-ha-how didja' spell that feller's name again?

STAN
Just like it sounds, man. "BWAH": B-O-I-S ... "BWAH."

DALE
Oh, yeah. (chuckles nervously) Of course. Of course, I knew that.
Door FLIES OPEN.

BLACKHAWKS PRESIDENT JOHN MCDONOUGH
Fuckin-A! You guys got the game on in here?

Dale and Stan look at each other, then back to John. They shrug their shoulders.

JOHN
That hillbilly on that other baseball team in Chicago's got a perfect game going right now! You thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?

Stan nods knowingly.
STAN
Ah, I see.
(RUBS CHIN)
Make the necessary calls?
Door FLIES OPEN, GIRLS SHRIEKING.

BLACKHAWKS RIGHT WING MARIAN HOSSA
Sorry guys, am I late?

JOHN
Terrific, you're here. What are your plans tomorrow?

MARIAN
Well, I actually had planned on trying to spend the weekend with my brother. I haven't seen him in, gosh, I don't know how long. He really hasn't sounded the same lately. But we were going to——

JOHN
How's your shoulder feeling?
Marian shrugs.
MARIAN
I don't know. Still a little sore, I guess. What, do you guys want to give me a physical——you know, now that I've already gone and signed a twelve-year deal with ya?
John and Stan nod "yes" vigorously.
STAN
We feel you should take it from our team doctor, Marian.
Door FLIES OPEN.
BLACKHAWKS HEAD TEAM PHYSICIAN MICHAEL TERRY, M.D.
You guys needed those X-rays?
STAN
Doctor, how does it look?

MICHAEL
Well, we feel that without immediate surgery, Marian's going to run the risk of suffering something like this.
Michael hands X-rays to John and Stan. They both do a FULL-BODY SHIVER.
MARIAN
What? Is it bad?
Stan sets the X-rays on Tallon's desk.
STAN
That's it. Buddy, cancel your trip. We're putting you under the knife tomorrow.
Stan SLAPS Marian on his bad shoulder. Sound of horrified women SCREAMING.
MARIAN
Shit ... easy, man.
Dale slides the Havlat letter out from the bottom of his pile of blank papers. John turns on the television set in the corner of the office.

JOHN
Dale, write this down.

Dale flips over the Havlat letter, pulls a pen from his breast pocket. On the TV, DeWayne Wise does THIS.

JOHN
"For immediate release: The Chicago Blackhawks announced today that team savior Marian Hossa——"

OTHER BLACKHAWKS "SENIOR ADVISOR" SCOTTY BOWMAN
(clears throat)
STAN
"Right wing Marian Hossa."

JOHN
Right ... "Right wing Marian Hossa will undergo surgery tomorrow, June 24, on his right shoulder to operate on ... you know, something not worth freaking out about."

MICHAEL
It's just a small rotator cuff tear. I mean, he'll miss the season-opener, maybe another 20, 40 games. You know, no biggie.
Dale stops writing, glances at the Havlat letter on the other side.
JOHN
We need to get this out to the media immediately. If we can get him in and out without anybody noticing, there'll be no point in making a big stink about it while he's recovering.

MARIAN
Works for me, I guess. But I mean, can I get the actual surgery done maybe like Monday. You know, still see my brother this weekend and THEN, go under the knife.
Stan and John look at Marian, then each other. They both rub their chins and look to Scotty.

SCOTTY
(clears throat)

John throws his hands up in the air and tilts his head with a look of, "Aw, shucks."
JOHN
Well, no arguing with you Scotty. You know best. Sorry there, Mirian, but sounds like your little bro's gonna just have to wait to see you when you're in recovery.
Mirian's shoulders sag in disappointment.
JOHN
This works out too perfectly. Gentlemen, are we all goddamned geniuses or what?
Door FLIES OPEN.

BLACKHAWKS CHAIRMAN ROCKY WIRTZ
Uh, John ... sorry to interrupt, but somebody's here to see you.

John and Stan look to one another, confused.

JOHN
Who?

NHL DEPUTY COMMISSIONER BILL DALY
Sixty-three million dollars over a dozen years? Are you serious?

SCOTTY
(clears throat)

STAN
I think what my father meant to say was, "Sixty-two-point-eight."
BILL
Well, I think the NHL would like to ask you a few questions about it and something called a "collective bargaining agreement."
John, Rocky, Stan and Scotty all SLAP HANDS across the sides of their faces.

FREEZE on moment, title card:

"TO BE CONTINUED?"

FADE OUT

Monday, July 13, 2009

Quick Thoughts at the All-Star Break

Tomorrow night is the All-Star Game and I'm finally beginning to feel fully into the baseball season—now that there's no action occurring in the other three major sports (aside from free agent signings and whatnot). And while I've been keeping closer tabs on the daily doings of my beloved Atlanta Braves over at my Tumblr, I've been largely ignoring how my predictions at the beginning of the season are going. Of course, that's probably with some good reason, but let's be honest and have a look at how things are going and see how many of the 30 teams are performing as I'd expected.

American League East

Current number correct: 3/5

The Jays started fast and then reality caught right up. Now you can't go a day without hearing about how Toronto is entertaining offers for the ace of their staff—whom is also starting for the AL tomorrow night.

Still, while I'm guilty of letting wishful thinking leading me to willfully ignore how good the Red Sox would be, it's rather widely acknowledged that Tampa Bay is now stepping on the gas and breathing down the necks of the Yankees heading into the break. I knew I was going against recent history by picking the Rays to win it all this year (the last time a World Series loser came back to win it all the following year was exactly two decades ago), but I remain confident that Tampa will definitely be hanging around and has the talent to keep this a three-horse race all the way to the very end.

American League Central

Current number correct: 0/5

Wow. Nearly an exact reverse order of my predicted finish, but had that been the case then I would have at least had that middle team right. Alas, my original division winner and cellar-dweller here have ended up being completely off as the Indians have the second-worst record in all of baseball and the Tigers seem to be getting the right amount of offense they were lacking last year as well as some solid pitching (bullpen aside).

So while those two rather critical finishes will more than likely be incorrect at the end of the year, the ever-consistent Minnesota Twins are only a half-game out of second place and I wouldn't be the least bit surprised to see them being the team that swipes the division away from Detroit in the second half.

I remain skeptical about the local White Sox, but will probably have to accept that they're likely to finish ahead of the Royals.

American League West

Current number correct: 1/4

Yes, it's a surprise to see the Texas Rangers hanging around so close to the top, but I do believe I've seen this story before. While three of the four teams in this division are over the .500 mark, I seem to recall Oakland traditionally being a club that always turns it on in the second half.

I suppose some things have to change eventually, but by the end of the year this will still be the Angels' division.

National League East

Current number correct: 2/5

I believe it was a collection of bloopers from the first half of the season they were featuring tonight on ESPN, and not surprisingly, the Mets were quite often the subject. For a team that struck me as being so immensely talented on paper at the beginning of the year, New York is doing their best to top Cleveland as my biggest disappointment this season.

This is arguably the weakest division in baseball at the moment, but it's still anybody's to win—except D.C., obviously. As Dan Patrick joked in his conversation with John Smoltz when the former Brave was scheduled to make his first start for Boston against the Nationals, "Does a win against them still count toward your career total?"

National League Central

Current number correct: 2/6

That number looks bad at first glance, but the two correct picks are the bottom-feeders in Cincy and Pittsburgh—which almost certainly isn't likely to change in the second half. And considering there's only three-and-a-half games separating fourth from first, anything's possible—especially with the moves that can happen near the trade deadline.

You would have thought the Cubs would have been a bit more dominant by this point, but we'll just say that I'm not feeling the least bit rueful for not picking them to get out of the first round of the playoffs again. The question now is if they'll even get into the playoffs.

National League West

Current number correct: 2/5

I fear for America when it appears that there is a strong possibility that both the Lakers and Dodgers could bring L.A. championship glory in the same season. And few would argue right now that the Dodgers have been the best team in baseball so far this season—all the more impressive when considering that they were without their star player for 50 games.

The "annually ugly division" was what I called it, but as it currently stands, there's a good chance the Wild Card could actually come out of the West. And considering that I had predicted both League Championship Series would be between teams from both leagues' East divisions, that's not appearing very likely at the moment—thanks in large part to the lackluster NL East and a stronger-than-expected NL West.

I'm of course standing by my belief in Tampa Bay to emerge victorious at the end of the year for the moment, although I'm already guessing I won't be so eager to be picking the Mets come October anymore. There's still a lot of baseball to be played and while right now only one-third of the teams are where I had said they would be, I'm feeling pretty good about that number going up rather than down.

But I'll gladly take the latter if it means the Braves end up getting into the post-season instead. In that case, I wouldn't be happier to have been wrong.

Saturday, July 11, 2009

Cross Your Fingers

I've gotten so used to applying for jobs and forgetting about them that you couldn't imagine my delight this morning when I found out I was one of 15 applicants who made the "short list" for a copywriting position I applied for many months ago (or at least that's what it feels like). The position was something I stumbled across on craigslist and unlike the other copywriting jobs that required somewhere in the neighborhood of three-five years of previous experience, this one was looking for newcomers. I'd been dying for that opportunity to present itself.

The company started a Twitter account to keep us updated on how they were coming along with the many exams they received, and I immediately began fearing for the worst as weeks passed and I maintained my stance that Twitter sucks. Still, I did receive an e-mail informing me that the fellow in charge of the hiring enjoyed many of my responses on the exam and that I was on the "short list." Part of me immediately wondered how many of the 80 or so applicants also recieved a similar e-mail. That was probably more than a month ago. Since then, I've interviewed for other entry-level copywriting positions, ultimately being extended a job offer for absolutely none.

So now some three or so months after applying for this job that I wanted worse than any other position I've applied for in the past three years, I received another e-mail. And now I've come to find out that there's a phone interview in the next two weeks—not to mention that I need to call the steakhouse back on Monday, since that still remains a very good back-up plan at the moment.

But just as I have been anticipating making more money at a nicer restaurant closer to home without all the corporate B.S. I have been dealing with for the past year and a half, it turns out I have another opportunity to get excited about. Or should I not even get my hopes up? I was tempted to write something about the interview in my Facebook status, but thought better of it since I hate getting others excited for me about getting an interview and then informing them I did not actually get the position. (That's happened a lot since graduation.)

Ultimately, I'm thrilled that the "short list" e-mail from a while back was indeed not just something everybody was getting. And when I've made the final 15, it gives me tremendous hope that I must be doing something right.

Friday, July 03, 2009

Pretend there's a bloody steak here ...

I mean, I looked for a better photo of one, but then I told myself, "Ah, you know what? Fuck it, let's get out of this place."

And so I'm off to go make a phone call about another job while trying not to think about being rejected for a different one today. Oh, am I disappointed? Well sure I am, because after all, what else could this dude have wanted—I mean, aside from say the experience that I really had being a stretch in comparison to what the job entailed. But I mean, shove all that to the side and I was a perfect fit.

Really.

OK, I'm not really all that torn up because the office was pretty small and the four or so employees there were there weren't very chirpy, you could say. The ex seemed to think that somehow translated to it being a "perfect fit" for me, but the fuck if we're putting much faith in what she thinks is good for me these days. Her suggestion, however, of nice paper for the resume was actually a good idea.

Truth be told, I haven't written much about my "job hunt" here in some months years because I really wasn't putting as much time into it as I once did—like, say, right after graduation. I suppose that I've got my own personal, legal drama having been in the way of doing, well, just about anything for the past couple months, but now I've really got no excuses.

And while these past few weeks since the community restitution wrapped up could be seen as relatively fruitless, I'm still retaining a bit of optimism when my day begins with the e-mail about an offer not being extended and yet I'm already following through on Plan B, setting up Plan C, not ruling out Plan D and then answering the phone and readjusting everything once more.

I've read or heard enough troubles with the current job climate to know that there's many people worse off than me, most of whom would kill for what passes as "my problems." So I shrug off this latest dead end, think of it as having been another opportunity to master my response to the typical "Tell me a little bit about yourself," and go on with a holiday weekend where the real fireworks probably won't even happen on the Fourth.

Kaboom, bitches.

Thursday, July 02, 2009

Top Ten Movies of the 1990s

Back when I was being paid—or at least reimbursed for the cost of attendance—to review movies, I used to love the point near the end of the year when I'd think back to how I'd be arranging my Top Ten list. Now that I barely see enough new releases a year to craft such an annual list, I couldn't help but get a little giddy about the thought of putting together the imminent Best of the Decade-type lists were going to be getting near the end of this year.

Back before some of us got married, had kids or got arrested multiple times for driving under the influence, we used to play bumper pool all the time. One night we actually took the time to begin a Yahoo Group site for our organization, as though we would recruit similar bumper pool enthusiasts. And then, of course, we promptly began to use the site's message board to post often ill-advised comments of a personal nature that ultimately hurt somebody's feelings (read: usually the most metrosexual—and thus, least interested in the actual bumper pool—member of the group).

During one particular afternoon, I posted a hungover group of lists about the 1990s, a collection of "Top Fives." I found this post the other day and realized that I'd probably still stand by the five films I picked. And then, I thought, I wondered what would happen if I expanded the list to the usual 10 movies.

Of course, I also remembered that what I hated doing after experiencing the joy of putting the list together was trying to also have 10 accompanying brief synopses that did not repeat the same line of critical thought (i.e. pick one "breakthrough" performance, but any more than that is overusing the idea and thus invalidating your opinion and overzealous need to anoint one, etc.). So that said, I'll probably end up doing that anyway and these movies are all now more than a decade old, so excuse me if my comments don't necessarily lay out the plot for you, OK? I'm just trying to crank this shit out.

And that said, I guess my immediate thought is "How has this film aged, and why is it still as good to me now as it was 10 (+ in most cases) years ago?":


10. The People vs. Larry Flynt (1996)

The movie starred Woody Harrelson, but the decision to cast Courtney Love was what I remember there being hooplah about it—made all the more complicated by the fact that she was actually good in it. Considering that Madonna was also getting a lead actress push for "Evita," there was an imminent backlash against the idea that stars of MTV videos were just going to take up some acting and start collecting Oscars. Of course, neither ended up being nominated.

Beyond all the attention that Love was earning the movie, there was the fact that the Academy Award-winning director of "Amadeus" was putting out a film that feminists were accusing of glorifying Larry Flynt. And because it was a biopic, there was the usual complaints about how much of the man's life was actually there (i.e. no mention of Flynt's first three wives, etc.).

But few could deny the magnificence of the performances Forman received—not just from the aforementioned leads or the always brilliant Edward Norton, but all around a wide cast of characters that created a movie with an overhwhelming number of comical scenes that still illicit full-out gut-clutching laughter to this day.

And even many of the film's nitpicking detractors found it difficult to deny that the First Amendment issue at the heart of the film—a representation of the battle between sexuality and purity in America that still goes on today—captures the very essence of free speech. It was Flynt who helped mainstream pornography, having done time in prison and suffering paralyzation while fighting with the belief that, in a line oft-quoted by the critics, "If they'll protect a scumbag like me, then they'll protect all of you."


9. Being John Malkovich (1999)

"Original" seemed to be the word that got used a lot to describe Spike Jonze's surreal feature—but many people were left without any words to describe what they'd seen. The endlessly imaginitive script from Charlie Kaufman went far beyond the simple suggestions that "Malkovich" was just a wry jab about virtual reality or celebrity worship. Indeed, the film couldn't have done better in capturing the fascination we'd all have with what it would be like to be another person.

And while it would be stupid to say I couldn't see anybody else in the lead but John Malkovich, I mean that I don't think the film would have been anywhere near as effective had it been about any other celebrity. Because Malkovich strikes us as such a self-effacing performer, it only makes the moment all the more delirious when he embarks on one of the decade's most memorable scenes and enters the portal to his own brain.

And even if detractors held some minor reservations with some of the backward logic Kaufman used toward the film's end, its final underwater shot still leaves me feeling uncommonly haunted.


8. Hoop Dreams (1994)

Perhaps you were like me and entered your first viewing of "Hoop Dreams" thinking that while you were in store for a few rough moments, the film would certainly adhere to the usual triumph of the common sports fairy tale. But this documentary that grabbed attention by not getting much from the Oscars that year was a stunning work of intense editing, one that resulted in that rarest type of film: a nearly three-hour running time that doesn't seem like enough.

To watch "Hoop Dreams" though, is an incredible experience in which the viewer must endure competing feelings of hope and despair throughout the five years of life it captures from its two high school subjects. And even now, it's harder to tell which moment hits me harder: William Gates trying to convince himself that he can't end up like his older brother, Curtis, a former high school star and now a tragic figure; or Arthur Agee having his father end a game of basketball so he can complete a drug deal.

There were certainly some other great documentaries released in the 1990s, but "Hoop Dreams" stands out to me as the decade's strongest example of a case where "you can't make this stuff up."


7. Schindler's List (1993)

I won't reach for a comparative example, but "Schindler's List" is sort of the "universal truth movie" for the decade. And by that, I mean a movie who's quality was so immediately recognized and accepted, that it strikes me as pointless to try and essentially tell you what you do not already know. If anything, you might be asking me why this isn't ranked higher.

But then again, anything this widely accepted has to invite some sort of backlash. And so maybe you weren't crazy about that ending.

"Schindler's List" is the only film on this list that I do not own, but it's power never fails to amaze me. For some of the complaints I've had about other works from Steven Spielberg over the years, I think he's remarkably gifted at using violence. It's evident here and, more recently, in "Munich." The overdose of gore and splatter, cuts and jumps from most directors nowadays isn't even close to the effect that I find here, where a number of shots or simple moments with a seemingly minimal or quick act strike me harder than I'm prepared for.

I don't know how you put into words the proper praise for a film that you feel captures so much emotion of one of the most horrific events of the last decade, other than to say that it is an immediate classic almost certain to be the new standard by which all other films striving to become historical accompaniments will be judged.


6. The Player (1992)

You'd never guess that one of the decade's best genuine thrillers would also be one of its sharpest satires, and yet there was Robert Altman reminding everyone just how it was done. "The Player" was the best film Altman had made since ... well, before I was born.

If you're going to take a swing at somebody, you might as well make it count and in "The Player," Altman never fails to dazzle you with what he's able to do. The film's memorable eight-minute opening shot is a reminder of how the qualities that became distinctly Altmanesque are still used best when employed by the master, such as the overlapping dialogue and dozens of cameos that almost create a feel of eavesdropping.

When Tim Robbins' movie studio VP, Griffin Mill, suddenly finds himself trying to evade arrest for murdering the wrong writer—in addition to romancing his fiancee—it's hardly any wonder that we find ourselves sympathizing with him to get away with murder. The ending's sarcastically full-circle feel proves to cynically reinforce the dreams made and reinforced by the very entertainment structure Altman's just skewered.


5. Fargo (1996)

Perhaps I'm the sucker for always citing this when asked what my favorite Coen Brothers film is, but it still strikes me as the most solid selection from a highly reputable body of work. You wouldn't get an argument from me if you selected, say, "Blood Simple" or their recent Best Picture winner, "No Country for Old Men." "Miller's Crossing" was probably my favorite film of the first year of this decade.

In "Fargo," however, it's Frances McDormand's performance as Marge Gunderson that brings the heart to what would have otherwise been another ransom plot gone awry. It's McDormand's pregnant police chief who gives "Fargo" the moral compass it needs to counteract the blood-splattered humor.

And there's a lot of humor to be found in "Fargo," to be sure. (You never really do think of a wood chipper the same way.)

I still view the Coens characterization of the Midwest and its residents to be an appreciative one, warmer than most of the film's critics believed. The Minnesota dialogue is distinctively Coen, but I think the film's final scene effectively celebrates the human life most haters seem to think the filmmakers have always taken for granted.


4. Boogie Nights (1997)

Too bad for Spielberg that a year before "Saving Private Ryan" was released and audiences were rattled by his depiction of D-Day, we were all probably still coming down from seeing Alfred Molina sing along to Rick Springfield while firecrackers were going off. It was the most glorious scene of the decade, but a symbolic representation of the life that P.T. Anderson brought to each scene of his porn epic.

And just as Courtney Love and Madonna were mentioned earlier, how odd is it now to think that at one time it was questioned how well Mark Wahlberg could perform? Indeed, "Boogie Nights" has a huge cast without a false note, but it's a testament to how good Wahlberg was here that "Marky Mark" seems like a distant memory.

Then again, so too does the spirit of the 1970s, a time which Anderson captures beautifully in his admittedly dark second-half transition to the 1980s. Because the movie is somewhat about pornography, there's the obvious metaphorical implication of the transition to videotape in the film. But beyond that is a larger sense of a care-free optimism in personal indulgence and satisfaction; it's a feeling, the film suggests, that became an addiction.


3. The Truman Show (1998)

And speaking of the reputation an actor once had, I still remember the lukewarm (at best) reaction to Peter Weir's masterpiece upon its release. "It wasn't funny," was the response I often heard. Considering that Jim Carrey at the time was better known (and more popular) for "Ace Ventura," "Fire Marshall Bill" and his basic reputation as a slapstick caricature, his star turn here was too much for some people to swallow.

You'd hope people have caught up by now, because it didn't take long for it to become obvious how ahead of its time "The Truman Show" really was. I mean, could you imagine a strange world in which the main character was the subject of a 24-hour television show since the day of his birth—and a nation of people glued to their televisions watching it, reciting catch phrases and debating romantic interests?

But "The Truman Show" wasn't just a clever reflection of the audience probably paying to see it. And even beyond the way Weir brilliantly makes an evil world feel like something straight out of Disney, Jim Carrey's Truman Burbank is the ideal represenation of perhaps the 90s' best example of a characteristic that is shared by all great films: the human spirit. It's only fitting that Truman spends the entire movie trying to find a fourth wall to break through, and all the more sweeter when he finally does.


2. Pulp Fiction (1994)

In all fairness, I cannot think of a more important movie to come out of the 1990s. But without diminishing what I said about "Schindler's List," it needs to be remembered what movies were like before "Pulp Fiction" came out.

Hollywood talent rarely did the art house circuit because the line separating the mainstream and the independent features was so clearly defined. While Quentin Tarantino's classic might have spawned a litany of piss-poor imitators and wannabes, it also dissolved the notion that no movie was too small for big stars.

Oh, and it didn't hurt that "Pulp Fiction" was an exhilarating shot of adrenaline straight to every moviegoer's heart, a masterful direction of tone in black comedy and genuine suspense that felt genius in how it borrowed from its influences while still feeling completely original. The success of Taranatino's dialogue and style earned him the usual backlash when many tried to unsuccessfully copy the three films-in-one sort of feel, but each groan-inducing effort to replicate that rare sort of visceral reaction we all initially had to "Pulp Fiction" actually stands as more proof of how priceless the film truly is.


1. In the Company of Men (1997)

Because nothing has brought me more joy than each person that has forever questioned my judgment and still, to this day, doesn't let me forget recommending Neil LaBute's blackest-of-black comedies to them.

I remember championing the film during its release year, because the very independent film (it was shot in something like two weeks on a budget about the size of a semester's college tuition) was the polar opposite of the heavy-hitter that year, "Titanic." But additionally, "In the Company of Men" was remarkable in how speechless it left me after my initial viewing that summer.

And that was just when I thought I knew what the movie was about.

The way it's presented by LaBute, "In the Company of Men" appears to be about how two average white-collar guys decide to both romance and then simultaneously dump an unsuspecting, down-on-her-luck female. That aspect of the plot—which works despite its predictability because the viewer still can't help but get sucked into—is not, of course, what the movie is truly about.

I still consider LaBute's to be the most masterful sleight of hand I saw in the entire decade. For even now, when I explain to these same people who for years have voiced the usual misinterpretation about the film (misogyny?), it's still sort of a sick joy for me to watch the film with someone who's seeing it for the very first time. Only then do you realize how well LaBute really executed the concept, which was to immediately introduce a premise that would shock a large segment of the audience, and then cleverly hide the hints to the movie's real motive throughout where only a select few might notice. The end result is a film that some will love and some will hate, but nobody emerges without feeling something.