Category Archives: Pointless Personal Digressions

Design and Desirability

Acquire! Acquire!I’m a Sony whore. I know their stuff is more expensive than it needs to be, but just I love their design. I’ll buy outside the brand when there’s reason to — I went with an Epson projector because it was, quite simply, superior to anything Sony had to offer — but as a rule, I’ll look at Sony’s offerings first.

Anyway, for the last couple of years, Sony’s had this line of pocket camcorders, modeled after the Flip but designed to be more versatile. I’ve been keeping an eye on them, but I could never quite bring myself around to buying one.

The first-generation model, branded the Webbie, was cute but clunky, with an awkward joystick and a tiny video screen; the second generation, renamed the Bloggie, addressed a number of interactivity problems and expanded the screen a little but kept the weirdly flimsy form factor, with a swiveling lens design that felt like it’d get wobbly within hours of its first use. But they all shot 1080i or 1080p HD video, and they were all the size of a cell phone, and the idea of carrying something like that to a press conference or an interview was awfully tempting.

Well, the third generation came out this month — pictured above — and it’s gorgeous. Rechristened the Bloggie Touch, it’s been redesigned for simplicity and function, with one button for recording video, a separate camera button for stills and a big ol’ touchscreen interface for monitor and playback functions. It looks more like an iPhone and less like a friendly Dalek than the previous models, but then Daleks aren’t supposed to look friendly, are they?

Plus, you can shoot a feature with this thing. You probably shouldn’t, as it’s got no microphone input and the focus options are pretty limited … but what do you want for two hundred bucks?

So, you know. Want.

The Traveler’s Lament

Not actual sizeThat was probably the fastest turnaround I’ve ever done to Los Angeles — 35 hours from gate to gate, not even long enough to worry about jet lag. So I’m home now, wishing I’d brought a box of bearclaws from the little donut place next door to the Pantages on Hollywood Boulevard, and marvelling at the thought that, yeah, I was on Hollywood Boulevard yesterday. Sunset, too, just steps from the magnificence of the Cinerama Dome. Someday I’ll actually see a movie inside the damn thing.

And now I’m back in Toronto, and it’s cold and it’s raining, but at least Dexter was happy to see me. It’s nice to be home.

In other, far more unpleasant news, Uwe Boll is making a movie about Auschwitz. Good luck trying to sleep tonight.

In Which I Wax Philosophical About What Is Essentially a Retail Theme Park

I'm disappointed because Pop Tarts World has closed for the nightHas it been almost twenty years since Nik Cohn wrote his excellent book about the history and character of Broadway, “The Heart of the World“? Christ, I feel old. But all I have to do is walk down that endless, slanting street to feel energized again.

It’s a ritual of mine whenever I’m here; I take the subway all the way downtown to City Hall, or thereabouts, and then walk north along Broadway to Union Square. I drop into Uniqlo; I have a doughnut at the SoHo Dean and DeLuca; I browse the stacks at the Strand and flip through the bins at Academy Music. I grab a Snapple at one of the dozens of Duane Reades along the way. (Never the same one twice, though; why fall into a rut?)

And then, eventually, I wind up in Times Square.  Some people hate it because it represents the excess and narcissism of American culture, and … well, absolutely, it does. But it’s also the place where you’ll see more people and hear more languages spoken at any given moment than anywhere else in the world; not even the United Nations can claim that, with its diplomacy and decorum and people waiting their turn to speak.

Times Square is the promise of America fulfilled — a glorious mess of humanity. Everyone’s here, and they’re all eating pretzels and running in front of cabs and lining up at that accursed Sbarro and taking each other’s pictures and generally having a great time.

Yes, I know it’s a banal observation and people have been making it for decades. Times Square is always like this, all the time. It’s forever drawing new visitors, and they’re forever goggling at it. That’s why I come back every chance I get. It’s kind of beautiful — once you ignore the Bubba Gump Shrimp Company, anyway.

The Work of Artisans

I would kill for a microbrew right now. Like, seriously, kill.And here we have this week’s MSN DVD column, in which I consider “The Ghost Writer” and “A Prophet” as examples of smarter-than-average moviemaking. I’d only recommend one of them as essential cinema, but you’ll have to read the piece to find out which one …

… unless, you know, happened to be reading this blog back when both films were playing theatrically. I kinda gave it away then.

Also, remember when I went to the Hart House Craft Beer BBQ last year, and wrote about it? Well, I’ve done it again for the 2010 edition. It took a few days to put the piece together, but in my defense, on the night I was only really capable of scrawling “glug glug glug, nom nom nom” in my notebook. Do enjoy my more sophistimacated observations.

Found: One Awfully Nice Dog

Someone is missing this guy.I don’t often blog on Sundays any more; it’s not a religious thing, more of a too-busy-to-post thing. But the little guy in the picture compels me to make an exception.

He turned up in a neighbor’s yard sometime Friday afternoon, and he clearly comes from somewhere — he’s too well cared for to be a stray. We don’t think he’s from around here; none of the building’s dog owners have encountered him in their travels, and as someone who will stop and pet almost anything on four legs, if I’ve never said hello to him before, he’s not local.

If you do know him, please leave a note (and a contact address) in the comments below. He’s got some fresh gashes on his tail and a wobble to his rear legs that suggests he got knocked around by something — a motorcycle, maybe, or possibly a bicycle — on his way here. He’s very sweet, and he’s safe and comfortable, but I’m also sure he’d much rather be with his own people if that’s at all possible.

I’ve put the word out via Facebook and Twitter as well, but I figure I ought to try every means available, right?

Things That Matter, and Things That Don’t

With Don in 'Monkey Warfare', only pretendingThe news broke yesterday that Toronto theatre, film and television actor Tracy Wright had died, age 50, of pancreatic cancer. Torontoist has a nice memorial here. I can’t say I knew her, but we both live(d) in the same neighbourhood and work(ed) in the same industry, so we developed a nodding acquaintance over the last decade or so.

I didn’t even know she was sick until a couple of weeks ago, when it sort of slipped out at the press day for Bruce McDonald’s “This Movie is Broken”; her partner Don McKellar had cancelled his scheduled interviews on short notice, and we were told he was staying home with Tracy, who’d just come back from the hospital. I asked McDonald what that meant when I sat down with him; he filled me in on the details, and I felt like I’d been punched in the stomach for the rest of the day.

I asked him to give them my love the next time he saw Don. I hope he did, but it doesn’t really matter. I’m sure it would have been just one more voice in a chorus of support. Tracy Wright may never have been a huge star, even by Canadian standards, but she was deeply loved in this town, and elsewhere, and we’ll be seeing proof of that in the days to come.

Also, Tom Cruise and Cameron Diaz’ new action romance comedy thing “Knight and Day” opens today. My review will appear in the new issue of NOW tonight, and I’ll put it online as soon as I’m able, but all you really need to know is that it is a full-on mess that wastes the time and talent of all involved. (UPDATE: There it is.) Life is short and unfair; don’t waste your time.

Making the Upgrade

Tremble before its beauty, once you've removed the bloatwareSorry for yesterday’s absence; I spent the day transferring files from my wheezy old laptop to its shiny new replacement — when I wasn’t watching more documentaries, of course.

But all is well and good now, and the new machine is humming right along … which is handy, because I have quite a lot of work to do. I mean, sure, I could rhapsodize about the design improvements Sony’s made in the last two and a half years — the illuminated keyboard, the multi-touch trackpad, the sensibly placed smart-card readers, and so on — but who has time?

Yeah, I’ll admit it: I’m Sony’s bitch. But right now, right this minute, when everything’s humming along properly, I kind of don’t mind.