• Badgers deserve a theme song.  Every species does, except those fucking dolphins.
• Over Thanksgiving weekend, I tracked down a copy of August Wilson's play Jitney.  Wilson was a poet and playwright, and the greatest of his works was the 10-play Century Cycle, a series of plays about the African American experience in each decade of the twentieth century.  They also happen to be some of the greatest plays ever produced by an American writer, and two of the ten even won the Pulitzer Prize for Drama (The Piano Lesson and his best play, Fences).  Jitney takes place in the late 1970s in Pittsburgh (they all take place in Pittsburgh, except for the final play which is set in Philadelphia), and concerns a group of men working for a gypsy cab company, those quick and convenient cabs being known colloquially as "jitneys." By this point in the cycle, overt racism against African Americans has turned to indifference, with whites simply ignoring blacks, allowing blacks to build their own culture in which they can themselves become successful.  And the plot is mainly concerned with that, how a bunch of men with no prospects work to turn their lives around, and find whatever redemption is available to them in a society that doesn't care whether they live or die.  They have to fight, they have to struggle, but as a culture they have achieved something by coming together.  It pairs nicely with the previous play of the cycle, Two Trains Running, where mass demonstrations and open rebellion are the only means available to break out of poverty.  Wilson's plays are always fairly apolitical and make little reference to events of the time period; there is no glorious hymn to the Civil Rights Act, no discussion of MLK.  At the bottom rung of the socioeconomic ladder, those events are meaningless, and whatever these men achieve, they achieve by working hard and fighting their up, each generation stronger than the last.
• Got one of my favorite new Christmas movies in the mail from Netflix today:  Make the Yuletide Gay.  The film just came out last year, released by a director and production company that specialize in gay-themed films.  This one's a Christmas movie, and so the plot is simple:  Gunn is going back to his family's home in Wisconsin for the holidays.  They don't know he's gay, because he's never been sure how they would react and can't stand the thought of their rejection.  All of which becomes very complicated when his boyfriend decides to surprise him by showing up so they can spend Christmas together.  What follows, you can guess:  lots of sneaking around, trying to act straight, being set up with girls by well-meaning relatives... it's wonderfully funny.  What's surprising is that beyond the humor there is genuine romantic sentiment, which is something a small film like this can have and a Hollywood release never would.  You really sense the genuine love between Gunn and his boyfriend as they fight against all their fears and anxieties, and this differs greatly from mainstream Hollywood movies like Brokeback Mountain or Black Swan, where homosexuality is something to resist, or it's the result of psychological malaise.  This is just two normal people in a normal loving relationship, and that's really something we need to see more of.  The end of the film is a bit cheesy, naturally, and there is some pretty cheesy stuff throughout, but it's a Christmas movie.  If you can't be cheesy on Christmas, when can you be?  It's a lovely, bright, and very funny Christmas film, with a positive Christmas message that doesn't involve Jesus.  What more could you want?
• American Film Badger:  It's a light week, so... continuing my brief capsule reviews of the AFI top 100.  On the 1998 list, we're up to #4, Gone with the Wind.  I honestly have no interest in this movie, great as it is known to be.  First, it's directed by the guy who made Wizard of Oz, and I hated that one.  Second, I have no interest in the antebellum period and all the tense, asexual romance that goes along with it.  Third, a lot of people are able to get past its depictions of happy slaves merrily working the field; I just don't think I could do that.  The 2007 list puts Raging Bull in its #4 slot.  Robert DeNiro plays a rough and violent boxer fighting against his own status as a has-been, and it's a fine performance.  Been a few years since I've seen it, but I remember it having very strong character work, and some pretty grim and gritty realism.  Strong work, worth seeing.  Hopping back to the 1998 list, #5 is Lawrence of Arabia, the story of the British soldier who worked to unite the Arabs in the war against Turkey in World War I.  Huge and hugely epic, full of vast scenes of sweeping desert and war.  As Lawrence falls more and more in love with Arab life, the war against the Turks becomes more difficult and almost dispiriting, giving a sad edge to the film that most older war movies usually bury in jingoism.  I really like this one a lot.   #5 on the 2007 list is Singin' in the Rain.  This one's problematic.  It's the story of Hollywood when sound was first introduced, and the slow and difficult movement from silent film to sound, with of course the introduction of the musical.  That part of the story is fantastic, really interesting and a lot of fun.  Unfortunately, the musical style of Singin' in the Rain is non-narrative, which means that at uneven intervals the story grinds to a screeching halt so Gene Kelly and company can sing some popular 40s tune.  The musical numbers serve no purpose and are cheesy as hell on top of it.  Without the music, I like it.  With the music, I can't stand the fuckin thing.  Back to the 98 list, #6 is The Wizard of Oz.  And look, I already said I hate it!  Look, I get it, in terms of special effects this movie is a big deal.  It's a huge and fantastically expensive production, endlessly impressive and a visual treat.  It's also a movie that speaks on the intellectual level of a seven year-old.  I understand its importance, but that doesn't mean I have to like it.  And finally, #6 on the 2007 list is Gone with the Wind, which I already talked about so that's that.
• This week's reading:  Looks like that'll be Sylvia Plath's classic memoir of depression and attempted suicide, The Bell Jar.  Just in time for Christmas!