Monday, May 25, 2015
Reel Reviews
Fury -- No, I won't go for the cheap shot and say the title came from how Brad Pitt felt towards his agent after reading the script. This isn't actually a particularly bad movie, just unoriginal. There's not much story beyond a series of vignettes about the craziness and intensity of war; that wasn't good enough when it was Saving Private Ryan, it certainly isn't good enough here. At least the combat scenes are remarkably well done (and grisly), but again, we've seen that before. Not bad, just not really necessary.
Wednesday, May 20, 2015
For the Record, Scale Check
Sunday, May 17, 2015
Reel Reviews
A Million Ways to Die in the West -- This movie way wind up being Seth MacFarlane's Bananas or Sleeper; it is like one of those early Woody Allen vehicles in which its auteur carves out a unique niche for himself and tells a story (and jokes) that no other filmmaker working today would or could. The laughs come consistently--occasionally uproariously--and from such a skewed angle that they're entertaining in their idiosyncrasy alone. The other interesting thing here is the performance by Charlize Theron, who has previously been good but never this likeable and approachable before. This is must see stuff for comedy fans...maybe not so much for the wilting flowers (raunch dominates the humor here; few of the jokes are suitable for "polite company").
Wednesday, May 6, 2015
A Treatise on the Nature of Beauty
I've given a lot of thought to the nature of beauty over the years. Not because of anything I see in the mirror; far from it! But because I recognize--in a way that many people do not realize, or rather do not acknowledge--that beauty has an overwhelming influence on our lives: how we live, who we are, who we are allowed to be, where we fit in in this world (or this society, at least).
We use many words to describe beautiful people. Men are generally characterized as "handsome." We resort to a much broader range of terms when women are the subject: gorgeous, lovely, pretty, cute, alluring, ravishing...when it comes to female beauty, you could fill a thesaurus and the tremendous number of synonyms for what we call beautiful.
I've come to believe that the reason we have so many terms for a female beauty is as an acknowledgement that there are different kinds of beauty. Everyone who is good-looking is beautiful, but beautiful people come in different flavors, so to speak, and those different flavors affect the observer in different ways.
Insofar as most people acknowledge these differences, they tend to categorize those variations as part of a hierarchy. Meaning: the woman who is "pretty" is more beautiful than someone who is "just" "cute," and so on. However, I have come to believe that this is NOT true; the different flavors of beauty are perceived as such, but they do not relate to each other in any kind of tiered ranking. "Cute" is not inferior to "pretty"; it's just a different kind of beauty, one that--in the correct circumstances--can have more impact on the person perceiving it than the other varieties of beauty.
According to my theory, there are three primary forms of beauty. Two of these forms were immediately obvious to me, almost as to be self-evident: the aforementioned "Cute" and "Pretty." Most observers intuitively recognize a beautiful woman as being either of these categories (assuming she does not fall into the third, as yet undiscussed category). This discernment is most likely a culturally ingrained reaction, a thought process that most people have inculcated into their perception from a very early age. (Evidence suggests there's also innate discernment; studies with babies have shown differences in infants' reactions to different (in symmetry/proportion) faces.) How people react to a cute woman versus a pretty woman depends upon circumstances--and, most likely, individual preferences and experiences.
What qualities constitute these first two varieties of beauty?
Cute is that version of beauty that is approachable, youthful (of course, all beauty has a heavy youth bias), perhaps even babyish. Cute, due to its approachability, shows up a lot in TV commercials.
Pretty is something more classical, a more idealized beauty than Cute--one that is nevertheless somewhat commonplace. Or perhaps its better to say Pretty is not rare; we see Pretty all the time, every day, even as we highly value it in the world around us. Beauty queens, high school homecoming queens, girls who work as greeters in restaurants and other businesses--you see these typical examples of the Pretty type all the time, all around you.
And the third category? What is the proper term for that third variety of beauty? Indeed, what is that third variety of beauty? How does it differ from Cute and Pretty?
For a long time, I used the term "gorgeous" as the descriptor for this class of beauty--but mostly as a mental placeholder, since I knew that "gorgeous" is not the right term for this third variety. ("Gorgeous" does more to describe the viewer's reaction to the beautiful person; it does not really address what that person's beauty is.) The third variety of beauty, as can be gleaned from the use of the term gorgeous, is more superficially striking than Cute or Pretty; these beauties are often some somewhat exotic. One can fairly characterize this third class of beauty as rarer than the other two; it is the type of beauty that one typically sees in models, especially the more famous and sought after models (the somewhat ridiculous term "supermodel" is often apt).
It was that connection to modeling and fashion that led me to the best label for this third variety of beauty: "Glamorous." Note that Glamorous derives from glamor (or glamour), the old name for a magical spell. This is most apt, as Glamorous beauty is the most spell-casting of the three--a striking, forceful, perhaps even mesmerizing kind of beauty that almost demands attention, and often leads to its avatars being placed upon a pedestal.
That rare and elevated character of Glamorous beauty probably creates much of the inclination towards seeing different varieties of beauty as steps on a hierarchical ladder; i.e., Glamorous lives at the top of the ranks above Pretty, which is itself a step above Cute. However, this thought model does not reflect reality particularly well. As noted above, individual reactions to different types of beauty differ widely; the relative approachability of the Cute person may make her more valued in the eyes of some individuals, who at the same time may see the lofty nature of the Glamorous one to be too unreachable for his or her tastes. Bad experiences in the past with a Pretty type may lead an individual to devalue others of the same type versus those who fall into the other two categories. Other scenarios can be imagined which would switch the relative rankings of any of the three varieties up or down the ladder according to an individual's personal preferences.
Thus, it is best to view the three varieties of beauty as co-equal in the eyes of the world at large. A chart may help visually define the relationships between the beauty types:
Some notes about the beauty chart:
The three varieties of beauty can be seen as a subset of the beauty class as a whole. As in any Venn diagram, it is possible--indeed, with beauty (and human variability) it is a certainty--that some parts of the interior sets will overlap. The upshot of this is (in practical terms) that there are some people out there who are both Cute and Pretty, Cute and Glamorous, Pretty and Glamorous. The very center of the diagram marks those lucky few who--through some remarkable combination of genes and the observer's biases--present (to some extent) all three of the varieties in their persons. I placed Kate Upton there in the center, since she seems to be today's foremost exemplar of all the varieties of beauty rolled into one person.
Note too that the overall set, Beauty, contains not just the three standard varieties but also some subset(s) that fall outside of any of the standard categories; within these bounds you would find those relatively rare birds who embody unconventional beauty (but still meet with the approval of wide swaths of the population), and perhaps those other outliers mentioned above (those who are declared to be beautiful in the service of iconoclasm--maybe even those individuals who make themselves attractive to others not by physical perfection, but through sheer dint of will and personality).
Finally, note that the placement of the categories (Cute and Pretty above, Glamorous below) is arbitrary--the chart can be rotated any number of degrees around its centerpoint and still be representative.
In conclusion, it may be best to recognize one particularly important implication of this intellectual model for beauty: while some of us may be condemned to a lesser status for possessing in our persons little to no physical beauty at all, those who do have one form of beauty or another are not destined to a position inferior to other beautiful people. In other words, if you're Cute, you're not doomed to a lesser life than a Glamorous type. Nor, if you're Pretty, are you necessarily better than a Cute person. Different strokes for different folks--that tends to be the order of things, even within a subset of the general such as beauty.
We use many words to describe beautiful people. Men are generally characterized as "handsome." We resort to a much broader range of terms when women are the subject: gorgeous, lovely, pretty, cute, alluring, ravishing...when it comes to female beauty, you could fill a thesaurus and the tremendous number of synonyms for what we call beautiful.
I've come to believe that the reason we have so many terms for a female beauty is as an acknowledgement that there are different kinds of beauty. Everyone who is good-looking is beautiful, but beautiful people come in different flavors, so to speak, and those different flavors affect the observer in different ways.
(An aside: Let's get one thing straight--beauty is NOT in the eye of the beholder. Beauty is one of the most rigidly defined aspects of human existence.
Studies have shown again and again that the symmetry and proportions of the human face determine how that face is perceived as beautiful or not. If you don't believe that, just drop a few words in that search bar up at the top of this window and you can find those results. [Here's a starting point: http://legacy.jyi.org/volumes/volume6/issue6/features/feng.html ]
Even when somebody declares as beautiful a person who is not, according to the common understanding of that term, that declaration is usually made to make a point--to engage in a certain amount of iconoclasm for one reason or another.
Individual tastes vary, for one reason or another, but if you ask a broad swath of observers to judge the beauty of this, that, or the other person, the vast majority will agree, whether the answer is yes, no, or meh--and if it's yes, that answer will apply to people so similar to other "yes" examples that researchers have developed masks that define a beautiful face based on the averages of such proportions.
Beauty, to put it bluntly, is mathematical; it's geometric. It is not a subjective experience.)
Studies have shown again and again that the symmetry and proportions of the human face determine how that face is perceived as beautiful or not. If you don't believe that, just drop a few words in that search bar up at the top of this window and you can find those results. [Here's a starting point: http://legacy.jyi.org/volumes/volume6/issue6/features/feng.html ]
Even when somebody declares as beautiful a person who is not, according to the common understanding of that term, that declaration is usually made to make a point--to engage in a certain amount of iconoclasm for one reason or another.
Individual tastes vary, for one reason or another, but if you ask a broad swath of observers to judge the beauty of this, that, or the other person, the vast majority will agree, whether the answer is yes, no, or meh--and if it's yes, that answer will apply to people so similar to other "yes" examples that researchers have developed masks that define a beautiful face based on the averages of such proportions.
Beauty, to put it bluntly, is mathematical; it's geometric. It is not a subjective experience.)
Insofar as most people acknowledge these differences, they tend to categorize those variations as part of a hierarchy. Meaning: the woman who is "pretty" is more beautiful than someone who is "just" "cute," and so on. However, I have come to believe that this is NOT true; the different flavors of beauty are perceived as such, but they do not relate to each other in any kind of tiered ranking. "Cute" is not inferior to "pretty"; it's just a different kind of beauty, one that--in the correct circumstances--can have more impact on the person perceiving it than the other varieties of beauty.
According to my theory, there are three primary forms of beauty. Two of these forms were immediately obvious to me, almost as to be self-evident: the aforementioned "Cute" and "Pretty." Most observers intuitively recognize a beautiful woman as being either of these categories (assuming she does not fall into the third, as yet undiscussed category). This discernment is most likely a culturally ingrained reaction, a thought process that most people have inculcated into their perception from a very early age. (Evidence suggests there's also innate discernment; studies with babies have shown differences in infants' reactions to different (in symmetry/proportion) faces.) How people react to a cute woman versus a pretty woman depends upon circumstances--and, most likely, individual preferences and experiences.
What qualities constitute these first two varieties of beauty?
Cute is that version of beauty that is approachable, youthful (of course, all beauty has a heavy youth bias), perhaps even babyish. Cute, due to its approachability, shows up a lot in TV commercials.
Pretty is something more classical, a more idealized beauty than Cute--one that is nevertheless somewhat commonplace. Or perhaps its better to say Pretty is not rare; we see Pretty all the time, every day, even as we highly value it in the world around us. Beauty queens, high school homecoming queens, girls who work as greeters in restaurants and other businesses--you see these typical examples of the Pretty type all the time, all around you.
And the third category? What is the proper term for that third variety of beauty? Indeed, what is that third variety of beauty? How does it differ from Cute and Pretty?
For a long time, I used the term "gorgeous" as the descriptor for this class of beauty--but mostly as a mental placeholder, since I knew that "gorgeous" is not the right term for this third variety. ("Gorgeous" does more to describe the viewer's reaction to the beautiful person; it does not really address what that person's beauty is.) The third variety of beauty, as can be gleaned from the use of the term gorgeous, is more superficially striking than Cute or Pretty; these beauties are often some somewhat exotic. One can fairly characterize this third class of beauty as rarer than the other two; it is the type of beauty that one typically sees in models, especially the more famous and sought after models (the somewhat ridiculous term "supermodel" is often apt).
It was that connection to modeling and fashion that led me to the best label for this third variety of beauty: "Glamorous." Note that Glamorous derives from glamor (or glamour), the old name for a magical spell. This is most apt, as Glamorous beauty is the most spell-casting of the three--a striking, forceful, perhaps even mesmerizing kind of beauty that almost demands attention, and often leads to its avatars being placed upon a pedestal.
That rare and elevated character of Glamorous beauty probably creates much of the inclination towards seeing different varieties of beauty as steps on a hierarchical ladder; i.e., Glamorous lives at the top of the ranks above Pretty, which is itself a step above Cute. However, this thought model does not reflect reality particularly well. As noted above, individual reactions to different types of beauty differ widely; the relative approachability of the Cute person may make her more valued in the eyes of some individuals, who at the same time may see the lofty nature of the Glamorous one to be too unreachable for his or her tastes. Bad experiences in the past with a Pretty type may lead an individual to devalue others of the same type versus those who fall into the other two categories. Other scenarios can be imagined which would switch the relative rankings of any of the three varieties up or down the ladder according to an individual's personal preferences.
Thus, it is best to view the three varieties of beauty as co-equal in the eyes of the world at large. A chart may help visually define the relationships between the beauty types:
The three varieties of beauty can be seen as a subset of the beauty class as a whole. As in any Venn diagram, it is possible--indeed, with beauty (and human variability) it is a certainty--that some parts of the interior sets will overlap. The upshot of this is (in practical terms) that there are some people out there who are both Cute and Pretty, Cute and Glamorous, Pretty and Glamorous. The very center of the diagram marks those lucky few who--through some remarkable combination of genes and the observer's biases--present (to some extent) all three of the varieties in their persons. I placed Kate Upton there in the center, since she seems to be today's foremost exemplar of all the varieties of beauty rolled into one person.
Note too that the overall set, Beauty, contains not just the three standard varieties but also some subset(s) that fall outside of any of the standard categories; within these bounds you would find those relatively rare birds who embody unconventional beauty (but still meet with the approval of wide swaths of the population), and perhaps those other outliers mentioned above (those who are declared to be beautiful in the service of iconoclasm--maybe even those individuals who make themselves attractive to others not by physical perfection, but through sheer dint of will and personality).
Finally, note that the placement of the categories (Cute and Pretty above, Glamorous below) is arbitrary--the chart can be rotated any number of degrees around its centerpoint and still be representative.
In conclusion, it may be best to recognize one particularly important implication of this intellectual model for beauty: while some of us may be condemned to a lesser status for possessing in our persons little to no physical beauty at all, those who do have one form of beauty or another are not destined to a position inferior to other beautiful people. In other words, if you're Cute, you're not doomed to a lesser life than a Glamorous type. Nor, if you're Pretty, are you necessarily better than a Cute person. Different strokes for different folks--that tends to be the order of things, even within a subset of the general such as beauty.
Thursday, April 30, 2015
Reel Reviews
Dawn of the Planet of the Apes -- The most ridiculous thing about this movie? The copious amounts of rain that are supposed to be falling on parts of California throughout. Talk about fiction, science or otherwise. The biggest takeaway here may be the fact that Andy Serkis is a marvel; how he is able to convey as much emotion as he does through the medium of motion capture, acting while wearing a "CGI mask" so to speak, is simply remarkable. And that talent serves this film well; though there is some absurdity to the plot, especially in the beginning (a weakness shared with its predecessor), this flick delivers an engaging, entertaining story that actually comes with some suspense in its denouement. If they can keep improving on their previous effort, another outing in the franchise might not be a bad idea.
Sunday, April 26, 2015
Reel Reviews
Rise of the Planet of the Apes -- The movie is much like the featured primates: it starts off quite stupid, then it gets a boost midway through and starts looking smarter. It's hard to resist rolling one's eyes at the early parts of the film, especially the very paint-by-numbers plot points about corporate greed being the root of the evil (not that it doesn't ring true; it's just not very well presented here). There's also some character inconsistency that comes across as false and jarring as the story progresses; ironically, it's mostly the apes who stay true to character. And then you get plenty of good monkey mayhem towards the end. Satisfying, but definitely in the "leaves room for improvement" category.
Thursday, April 16, 2015
Reel Reviews
Gone Girl -- Hard to tell what to say about this one. A couple of things spring out: for one, this story relies on the same conceit as almost all mystery genre works, namely that there can be such a thing as the perfect crime. Certainly, this is a story that believes wholeheartedly in its own smartness; perhaps it's better to say the author believes in how smart she is. But this scenario would almost certainly not play out this way in real life; the presumed mastermind would be caught and exposed much easier than is seen here. The movie does make its case (so to speak) that one could get away with it because media are so guilty of fashioning "the truth" that it hazes everything, including detective work. It also implies something I've known since at least the old days of watching Xena: Warrior Princess: men can be bad, but when a woman goes wrong you get a real monster. That may be a minor spoiler; sorry, but even if the ending is given away you can still get something from watching this flick. It's worth your time.
Monday, April 13, 2015
Recently Read
Stars and Strikes: Baseball and America in the Bicentennial Summer of ’76
by Dan Epstein
My earliest memories of baseball involve the Philadelphia Phillies and their division championship season of 1976. No surprise, then, that I would want to pick up Dan Epstein’s Stars and Strikes, which is nothing less than a history of that very season and of the cultural currents then having their impact in the USA during the nation’s 200th birthday celebration.
Epstein comprehensively tells the story of the 1976 baseball season: its preliminary moments before the season began, when the writing went up on the wall and told everyone who could read that free agency was imminent, and that baseball would never be the same; the month to month storyline of the actual season, which featured a repeat champion in the Cincinnati Reds but also a changing of the guard, in that former powers like the Oakland A’s, Pittsburgh Pirates, and Boston Red Sox saw their shine start to fade; and the aftermath once the World Series ended, when the big money started to flow and it was demonstrated that free agency mostly meant that the owners would have to be saved from themselves (which still hasn't happened in any meaningful way).
In covering the nuts and bolts of the baseball season, author Epstein presents the reader with workmanlike prose; his accounts of games, series, and streaks read so much like newspaper beat writer accounts that one wonders whether or not the author wrote that way according to a specific stylistic decision. (Epstein’s jacket flap bio indicates no stints as a beat writer, so it’s hard to say whether he comes to the style naturally or not.) Though these writings may come across as formulaic, Epstein nevertheless delivers mostly entertaining accounts of the events of the season, particularly in charting the meteoric rise (and eventual fall) of Detroit Tigers phenom Mark “The Bird” Fidrych, as well as the earliest rumblings of the volcano that would eventually explode from the Billy Martin-George Steinbrenner pairing as New York Yankees manger and owner. (If nothing else, Epstein does baseball fans the service of un-rehabilitating Steinbrenner and reminding everyone of just what a colossal asshole that man was.)
Along the way, Epstein also recounts the cultural phenomena that made up the contemporary scene in that oddest of celebratory years. Music in particular gets prominent display in the cultural history; Epstein quotes period hit songs as his chapter titles, with each chapter including some notes about the year's musical trends, from the mellow AM gold of the Starland Vocal Band, WAR, and England Dan and John Ford Coley, to the emergence of the soon-to-be scene-changing genres, disco and punk rock. Other hot topics, such as Legionnaire’s Disease, Bicentennial festivities, killer bees, racial tensions over busing, and (naturally, in a baseball book) The Bad News Bears, get their share of remembrance as Epstein brings what is now a wildly alien time temporarily back to life. Those of us who can (barely) remember those days can attest that, yes, life in 1976 really was that weird, and Epstein does the younger generation a service by documenting that fact.
Nostalgia may be less than ideal—the word has actually been used to describe what once was considered a disease—but the occasional indulgence can be harmless and fun, especially when the subject is the history-bound sport of baseball. Though it occasionally falls into rote recitation of the year's events, and it never reaches the literary heights achieved by the exemplars of the "one baseball season" genre (a la Halberstam or Angell), Stars and Strikes stands as one of the better entries in this now well-established genre. Fans of the sport, or even just those with an interest in cultural history, will do well to pick up a copy of Epstein’s work and take a groovy trip back to a time long gone--at least for a few hundred pages.
by Dan Epstein
My earliest memories of baseball involve the Philadelphia Phillies and their division championship season of 1976. No surprise, then, that I would want to pick up Dan Epstein’s Stars and Strikes, which is nothing less than a history of that very season and of the cultural currents then having their impact in the USA during the nation’s 200th birthday celebration.
Epstein comprehensively tells the story of the 1976 baseball season: its preliminary moments before the season began, when the writing went up on the wall and told everyone who could read that free agency was imminent, and that baseball would never be the same; the month to month storyline of the actual season, which featured a repeat champion in the Cincinnati Reds but also a changing of the guard, in that former powers like the Oakland A’s, Pittsburgh Pirates, and Boston Red Sox saw their shine start to fade; and the aftermath once the World Series ended, when the big money started to flow and it was demonstrated that free agency mostly meant that the owners would have to be saved from themselves (which still hasn't happened in any meaningful way).
 |
| Stars and Strikes by Dan Epstein |
Along the way, Epstein also recounts the cultural phenomena that made up the contemporary scene in that oddest of celebratory years. Music in particular gets prominent display in the cultural history; Epstein quotes period hit songs as his chapter titles, with each chapter including some notes about the year's musical trends, from the mellow AM gold of the Starland Vocal Band, WAR, and England Dan and John Ford Coley, to the emergence of the soon-to-be scene-changing genres, disco and punk rock. Other hot topics, such as Legionnaire’s Disease, Bicentennial festivities, killer bees, racial tensions over busing, and (naturally, in a baseball book) The Bad News Bears, get their share of remembrance as Epstein brings what is now a wildly alien time temporarily back to life. Those of us who can (barely) remember those days can attest that, yes, life in 1976 really was that weird, and Epstein does the younger generation a service by documenting that fact.
Nostalgia may be less than ideal—the word has actually been used to describe what once was considered a disease—but the occasional indulgence can be harmless and fun, especially when the subject is the history-bound sport of baseball. Though it occasionally falls into rote recitation of the year's events, and it never reaches the literary heights achieved by the exemplars of the "one baseball season" genre (a la Halberstam or Angell), Stars and Strikes stands as one of the better entries in this now well-established genre. Fans of the sport, or even just those with an interest in cultural history, will do well to pick up a copy of Epstein’s work and take a groovy trip back to a time long gone--at least for a few hundred pages.
Reel Reviews
The Equalizer -- The world is littered with action movies exactly like this one. So why is this one in particular so satisfying and enjoyable to watch? Mostly, for the performance by Denzel Washington, who lives up to his usual standards in creating a character the viewer can’t help but believe in. (Washington is remarkably expressive even when he’s doing nothing. His expressionless silences say more than the efforts of 90% of all working actors today.) There’s also an intriguing bit of subtext about the characters Washington’s McCall helps; the hero encourages these lesser lights towards a belief in themselves that is belied by the bigger currents on display in the plot of the movie. Creative and intellectual dissonance, or a purposeful contradiction the viewer is invited to consider? You’ll have to judge that for yourself; give yourself that chance by watching this movie.
Reel Reviews
Afternoon Delight -- Not sure what to make of this one. Sure, there’s all kinds of indie cred here, but that does not necessarily make for a good movie. If this is meant to be a statement on the plus side for women, the effect is quite the opposite; all chauvinistic claims of female craziness seem verified here (in a movie written and directed by a woman, Jill Soloway, it should be noted). As a comedy, it’s not particularly funny; as a drama, the repercussions of the plot seem too minor to have much impact. I didn’t hate it, stayed mostly interested all the way through…but I suspect most people wouldn’t find this one all that interesting.
Sunday, April 5, 2015
Reel Reviews
The Hundred-Foot Journey -- This one seems to have been overlooked by the movie-going public, and I'm not sure why. Its Indian-family focus? One would hope not. It's somewhat standard storyline? Maybe, although when even a clichéd plot is done this well true cinema enthusiasts should appreciate the effort. There's much to like here: Manish Dayal stands front and center as a very appealing underdog hero; Helen Mirren plays her part to a tee, keeping her frosty restaurateur icily cool right up to the moment when she needs to let the ice break and become a sympathetic character; and most impressive, perhaps, is DP Linus Sandgren's work in making this a truly beautiful movie to watch (rarely has cuisine been so belle on screen). Do yourself a favor and sample this platter's delights.
Recently Read
THINspired
by Mara Schaiavocampo
For some time now, I've had aspirations of writing a book about weight loss, using my own experiences going from weighing 340 pounds to today's 275 as grist for that mill. In particular, my ideas about weight loss--admittedly a straightforward process, when it's boiled down--took their form in an equation--The Equation, as it were--that helps distill my wisdom into a useful thought model that, I believe, can help those like me lose weight and live healthier (if not fully healthy) lives.
Of course, since weight loss is such a well-trodden path when it comes to publishing, I have not just compiled notes for my prospective work, but surveyed the field of weight loss books, to see if any other interested parties had the same thoughts I did.
In scanning the shelves, I came across only one book that seemed to display inspiration similar to my own. THINspired by Mara Schiavocampo is another individual's self-discovered program for losing weight. It even features an equation--or, as Ms. Schiavocampo puts it, her "Magic Formula"--as a framework for the author's weight loss program. Given these facts, I decided to read THINspired and see if all my plans and notes were for naught. Had I been beaten to the punch? Had I been scooped on the concept of an equation (by that or any other name), which would render my own plans to reveal a new weight loss thought model redundant and pointless?
Alas, though Schiavocampo contributes a few worthy ideas to the endeavor, she gets a lot of her equation--in my own humble but experienced opinion--wrong.
On the plus side, Schiavocampo is to be credited for devoting a large portion of her text to one of the under-recognized aspects of weight loss: the need for adequate sleep. Indeed, I place so much emphasis on sleep that I make it the first part of my own Equation. Unfortunately, while Schiavocampo had the sense to recognize sleep for the crucial element that it is, she still only deems sleep to be 10% of the program. Hardly any books on weight loss mention sleep; to identify so important a cog in the weight loss machine, and then to undersell it by deeming sleep to be only one tenth of the issue, undermines the force of her argument.
A lot of the rest of Schiavocampo's presentation consists of what one might call boilerplate weight loss advice. There's nothing particularly wrong with that; any book about weight loss must cover the fundamentals of "eat less, exercise more," since those basics are necessary to any successful weight loss effort. But some of her advice is problematic. She encourages readers to exercise by the mantra "train hard or go home"--advice that will rarely work for truly overweight individuals, who are often prone to injury by way of overexercising. Worse still, in lecturing her readers about the fundamentals, Schiavocampo reveals an outlook that, far from being encompassing and general, actually comes across as particular, idiosyncratic, and individual. In other words, one doubts that few overweight people could actually be successful following the author's lead.
Why? Because a great deal of what Schiavocampo preaches as the proper lifestyle for successful weight loss follows from her position as a person of means and opportunity. For instance, despite protestations about being on a budget and not being overly wealthy, Schiavocampo gushes about her exercise routine, including workouts and classes at what are apparently very trendy (and undoubtedly expensive) New York City fitness clubs. That feeling is reinforced by her name-checking her trainer friends, as if the average reader is supposed to know of these people already. (Namedropping is a relentless feature of THINspired; even those Schiavocampo identifies in the narrative as her personal friends get the first and last name treatment, so you know that she is hobnobbing with people who are Important.) This may be the norm when you are a television personality (Schiavocampo has worked as a reporter for ABC News, specifically Good Morning America, according to her jacket bio), but it doesn't reinforce her credibility with readers who wish to find legitimate advice on losing weight.
And, unfortunately, Schiavocampo's credibility is all too easy to question. As noted, she has a career in TV, and worked that job before she stumbled upon her "Magic Formula" for weight loss. How much weight did she need to lose? It is impossible from the text to accurately judge that. Fatties, as we know, rarely get hired to be television personalities. Schiavocampo puts her total weight loss at 90 pounds, which is an impressive figure without a doubt, and she relates stories from childhood where being overweight played a big role in her development. Yet, all we ever get from the author, in terms of hard numbers, is that figure of 90 pounds. At no point in the text does Schiavocampo give an actual scale reading for herself; the reader never knows just how much this woman actually ever weighed. (A quick web search reveals early, pre-weight loss pictures of the author, showing a woman who was indeed overweight, though not to this viewers eyes truly obese.)
Schiavocampo does, at one point, relate that she gained 40 pounds during pregnancy; so then the ninety pound total is boosted by the extra forty lumped on by having a baby? Was her real weight loss 90 pounds, or 50 pounds if you count from her pre-pregnancy, "normal" weight? In another passage Schiavocampo labels herself as having been a "size 14"; given the madness that is women's clothing sizes, readers could be forgiven for having no idea what that actually means in terms of shape and health. (Per Schiavocampo, size 14 is "the size of the average woman today.") The average woman may find something meaningful in those terms, but whether this discourse will actually be useful for those who need to drop the pounds is another matter.
So it goes for what the average woman might get out of THINspired; others, particularly men, would read this book and find a lecture that says little to them, or even speaks in a language that they can understand. Clearly, Schiavocampo wrote her book for a niche market of women like herself. Unfortunately, the reason we have such a wide open market for books on weight loss is specifically because the problem of overweight is so widespread and general; the niche approach, as represented by THINspired, paints the problem in terms too specific to ever be useful to more than a few individuals.
Schiavocampo should be commended for making the effort of trying to cast the basics of weight loss in a form that some (or even a few) will understand better than what they've heard before. If you are of a certain type, the ideas in THINspired just might click with you and help you get down the road towards a healthier you. But as likely as not, this one of Ms. Schiavocampo's reports may simply come across to you as dead air.
by Mara Schaiavocampo
For some time now, I've had aspirations of writing a book about weight loss, using my own experiences going from weighing 340 pounds to today's 275 as grist for that mill. In particular, my ideas about weight loss--admittedly a straightforward process, when it's boiled down--took their form in an equation--The Equation, as it were--that helps distill my wisdom into a useful thought model that, I believe, can help those like me lose weight and live healthier (if not fully healthy) lives.
Of course, since weight loss is such a well-trodden path when it comes to publishing, I have not just compiled notes for my prospective work, but surveyed the field of weight loss books, to see if any other interested parties had the same thoughts I did.
In scanning the shelves, I came across only one book that seemed to display inspiration similar to my own. THINspired by Mara Schiavocampo is another individual's self-discovered program for losing weight. It even features an equation--or, as Ms. Schiavocampo puts it, her "Magic Formula"--as a framework for the author's weight loss program. Given these facts, I decided to read THINspired and see if all my plans and notes were for naught. Had I been beaten to the punch? Had I been scooped on the concept of an equation (by that or any other name), which would render my own plans to reveal a new weight loss thought model redundant and pointless?
Alas, though Schiavocampo contributes a few worthy ideas to the endeavor, she gets a lot of her equation--in my own humble but experienced opinion--wrong.
On the plus side, Schiavocampo is to be credited for devoting a large portion of her text to one of the under-recognized aspects of weight loss: the need for adequate sleep. Indeed, I place so much emphasis on sleep that I make it the first part of my own Equation. Unfortunately, while Schiavocampo had the sense to recognize sleep for the crucial element that it is, she still only deems sleep to be 10% of the program. Hardly any books on weight loss mention sleep; to identify so important a cog in the weight loss machine, and then to undersell it by deeming sleep to be only one tenth of the issue, undermines the force of her argument.
A lot of the rest of Schiavocampo's presentation consists of what one might call boilerplate weight loss advice. There's nothing particularly wrong with that; any book about weight loss must cover the fundamentals of "eat less, exercise more," since those basics are necessary to any successful weight loss effort. But some of her advice is problematic. She encourages readers to exercise by the mantra "train hard or go home"--advice that will rarely work for truly overweight individuals, who are often prone to injury by way of overexercising. Worse still, in lecturing her readers about the fundamentals, Schiavocampo reveals an outlook that, far from being encompassing and general, actually comes across as particular, idiosyncratic, and individual. In other words, one doubts that few overweight people could actually be successful following the author's lead.
Why? Because a great deal of what Schiavocampo preaches as the proper lifestyle for successful weight loss follows from her position as a person of means and opportunity. For instance, despite protestations about being on a budget and not being overly wealthy, Schiavocampo gushes about her exercise routine, including workouts and classes at what are apparently very trendy (and undoubtedly expensive) New York City fitness clubs. That feeling is reinforced by her name-checking her trainer friends, as if the average reader is supposed to know of these people already. (Namedropping is a relentless feature of THINspired; even those Schiavocampo identifies in the narrative as her personal friends get the first and last name treatment, so you know that she is hobnobbing with people who are Important.) This may be the norm when you are a television personality (Schiavocampo has worked as a reporter for ABC News, specifically Good Morning America, according to her jacket bio), but it doesn't reinforce her credibility with readers who wish to find legitimate advice on losing weight.
And, unfortunately, Schiavocampo's credibility is all too easy to question. As noted, she has a career in TV, and worked that job before she stumbled upon her "Magic Formula" for weight loss. How much weight did she need to lose? It is impossible from the text to accurately judge that. Fatties, as we know, rarely get hired to be television personalities. Schiavocampo puts her total weight loss at 90 pounds, which is an impressive figure without a doubt, and she relates stories from childhood where being overweight played a big role in her development. Yet, all we ever get from the author, in terms of hard numbers, is that figure of 90 pounds. At no point in the text does Schiavocampo give an actual scale reading for herself; the reader never knows just how much this woman actually ever weighed. (A quick web search reveals early, pre-weight loss pictures of the author, showing a woman who was indeed overweight, though not to this viewers eyes truly obese.)
Schiavocampo does, at one point, relate that she gained 40 pounds during pregnancy; so then the ninety pound total is boosted by the extra forty lumped on by having a baby? Was her real weight loss 90 pounds, or 50 pounds if you count from her pre-pregnancy, "normal" weight? In another passage Schiavocampo labels herself as having been a "size 14"; given the madness that is women's clothing sizes, readers could be forgiven for having no idea what that actually means in terms of shape and health. (Per Schiavocampo, size 14 is "the size of the average woman today.") The average woman may find something meaningful in those terms, but whether this discourse will actually be useful for those who need to drop the pounds is another matter.
So it goes for what the average woman might get out of THINspired; others, particularly men, would read this book and find a lecture that says little to them, or even speaks in a language that they can understand. Clearly, Schiavocampo wrote her book for a niche market of women like herself. Unfortunately, the reason we have such a wide open market for books on weight loss is specifically because the problem of overweight is so widespread and general; the niche approach, as represented by THINspired, paints the problem in terms too specific to ever be useful to more than a few individuals.
Schiavocampo should be commended for making the effort of trying to cast the basics of weight loss in a form that some (or even a few) will understand better than what they've heard before. If you are of a certain type, the ideas in THINspired just might click with you and help you get down the road towards a healthier you. But as likely as not, this one of Ms. Schiavocampo's reports may simply come across to you as dead air.
Saturday, April 4, 2015
Reel Reviews
A Most Wanted Man -- This flick indulges in so many spy movie clichés--moody, atmospheric music; odd, disjointed camerawork; industrial, hole-in-the-wall workspaces; even the ultra-clichéd clandestine meetings on the waterfront, complete with industrial shipping in the background--that the only thing surprising is that the DVD doesn't come in a plain brown wrapper marked "SPY MOVIE." As such, the film does not make much of an impression beyond being Philip Seymour Hoffman's last role, though I will admit to the movie holding my interest for much of its running time; how much that is a product of the presence of the easy on the eyes Rachel McAdams may be a mystery more intricate than anything presented here.
Saturday, March 28, 2015
For The Record, Scale Check
In fact, having just reviewed last year's entries, I see that in May of '14 I was clocking in at 281.0, so this represents real progress in less than a year, and given the full purview of all the entries, the rate may be picking up a bit. That's good news. There may be hope yet.
Friday, March 27, 2015
Reel Reviews
Draft Day -- So it's come to this: the NFL is now producing propaganda films like some 1930s dictatorship. One wonders if there is as much veracity in this exhibition as one might have found in, say, the movie within a movie in Tarantino's Inglourious Basterds. Either way, the Sabols are either spinning in their graves, or dancing in Hell, depending. Much of this movie comes across as Stupid with a capital S, though I must grudgingly admit that there's enough entertainment here to keep the viewer engaged. This is the kind of role Kevin Costner is good at, though everyone else in the cast is basically a cardboard cutout. Watch it if you really dig sports movies; just don't let yourself fall too far under the spell of "the shield."
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