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Enough said.

While I admittedly know very little about the ins and outs of the history of modern music, one thing that I do know is that the 80s rock/new wave/techno behemoth New Order was once known as Joy Division. In 1976 in the sleepy industrial city of Manchester, England, four men brought a new sound that, to this day, is still replicated by scores of 21st century bands. The film “Control” chronicles the short years over which Joy Division rose to fame amidst the obscurity that was frontman Ian Curtis’s life.

Photo: Momentum/The Weinstein Company

Based on the memoir Touching From A Distance, penned by Curtis’s wife Deborah Curtis, the audience is presented with a picture of a young man whose aspirtations of singing on stage came from teenage years filled with David Bowie’s “Ziggy Stardust” and the Sex Pistols. At a very young age, Ian Curtis meets Debbie, the woman who’s dating his best friend but manages to fall in love with Ian nonetheless. In the years after their teenage marriage, everything else seems to happen so quickly, from finding a home, having a baby, starting a band, signing to a label, Ian’s love affair with a young Belgian woman named Annik and a diagnosis of epilepsy.

Soon it becomes very apparent where the film gets its name from, as control is something Curtis quickly loses sight of. At the age of 23 and on the eve of Joy Division’s first American tour, Ian Curtis committed suicide. “Control” is a poignant picture, filled with moments that are both genuine and heartwrenching. To be quite honest, some of what I saw was quite difficult to absorb, particularly the duality of Curtis’s life.

“Control” was simply a black and white story with none of the glitz or glamour normally seen in rock movies. It’s been several years since I’ve seen a British film that was so rich in account while also vacant in terms of what I was presented with visually. I believe that the last film to have this kind of cinematic impact on me was 1996’s “Trainspotting.” Another crown in the jewel of the movie is that, in all scenes in which Joy Division plays live, the actors themselves actually performed the tracks.

“Control” has been labelled as the “the coolest British movie of 2007,” and it comes to me as no surprise why.

Official Website

Since Tony didn’t feel like writing a review of Pineapple Express, I’m taking matters into my own hands. After a sunny-ish Sunday afternoon spent wandering up Robson Street with Jen, we decided to cap the afternoon off with a matinée.

Less than 30 minutes in, my initial thoughts were “awesome…I just spent $12 on a stoner comedy.”

Oh how wrong I was…

Photo: Sony Pictures

The film follows devout stoner, Dale Denton (Seth Rogan), and his dealer, Saul Silver (James Franco). The title of the movie itself reefers (very much intended) to a particular strain of marijuana that Dale and Saul fall head-over-heels for. It’s also what links them back to a murder of which Dale accidentally witnesses in his capacity as a process server. I think that means he’s a butler or something.

What begins under the guise of just another stoner flick, Pineapple Express ends up delivering so much more. It has memorable characters, lines that will certainly go down in pop culture cinematic history, more action than you can begin to expect - truly, and best of all: it’s funny. Really funny. There are more than a handful of instances in which you may not believe that what you just saw is what you really did see.

Photo: Sony Pictures

Truth be told, when Jen and I walked into the theatre, I was convinced that her and I were the only two that didn’t indulge in a smoke before the flick. And in saying that, some of the humour can probably only be truly appreciated by those who do smoke…particularly the lady in the front row who incessantly laughed her head off at all times, funny or not.

Don’t be fooled though. Pineapple Express is not a comedy to be missed. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if soon enough, people will flock to any and all Seth Rogan movies simply because it’s known that the flick will be great. Here’s just hoping he doesn’t crash and burn like Will Ferrell has in recent years.

Check out the film’s official trailer below and the website here.

Trust me.

So I bet you’re all dying to know how the rest of me and Jenny’s trip to Tofino turned out. Sure, I showed you all the stellar snaps from our afternoon of surfing, but what about the eats, the camping and the people?

By the time I got dropped off on Wednesday afternoon in Horseshoe Bay, my hair was a windblown mess, I was an hour early and the sun was optimistically shining for the first time that day. I had a bit of time before Jenny was to arrive, so I grabbed a ferry ticket and waited in the sunshine.

When you take the ferry as often as I do, it’s important to find ways to keep yourself occupied on the voyage. Being that we were to surf the next day, we opted to watch “Charlie’s Angels: Full Throttle” simply to catch the surfing scenes. Super lame of us, I know.

Mmm…Emmers.

It’s my ritual to stop at Woodgrove Centre’s food court for quick eats on weekends when I head home. Apparently the McDonald’s I had for lunch that afternoon wasn’t enough, so I opted for an A&W Teen Burger and onion rings. Then I’d had enough.

After a quick pack-up of my mom’s car (since there’s no way in hell my truck will make even one more trip to Tofino) and a too-short sleep, we pointed the wheels west along the Pacific Rim Highway. Once you leave Highway 1 near Qualicum Beach, it’s about 40 kilometres to Port Alberni and another 90 kilometres to Tofino.

We stopped in Port Alberni to grab some last minute supplies from their local Wal-Mart, and I have to pointedly say that, aside from the sweetheart of a store greeter, every single employee was oddly rude to us. Not impressed.

The rain started to fall as soon as we hit the Pacific Rim Highway, so we had a pretty good idea of the kind of day we were in for. Tofino is, after all, located in a rain forest.

At the end of a long and winding highway, we arrived at our campground only to find out that we had to wait until later in the afternoon to check in.

Maybe the campground’s local resident wasn’t finished with our site yet. Apparently he lives there all the time.

Jenny and I had time to kill before we were supposed to show up at Bruhwiler’s shop, so we headed into the heart of Tofino and walked around. This sign made me chuckle. Most signs like this in Vancouver would state a limit of about 1/16th the time.

We should’ve taken it from this guy and bought protective rain gear. Little did we know at the time…

Breakers Deli has wicked wraps, pizza, sandwiches, burritos and delicious baked goods. For lunch, I grabbed a chicken burrito with free range chicken, avocado, mango tamarin sauce, mozza cheese and organic greens while Jenny had the turkey and havarti cheese toasted sandwich.

Yours truly is becoming quite a little pro at that whole parallel parking thing. First try, every time.

Here’s where the fun begins…after our afternoon of surfing, Jenny and I were finally able to make our way back to the campsite and set up. The only problem was that the rain had started to come down even heavier, our clothes were soaking wet and cold and puddles were starting to form in our campsite. After a valiant effort, we managed to string up two tarps and pitch a tiny tent.

Not only was the set-up pathetic, after we’d finally showered and put on warm clothes, starting a fire was a lost cause. I did everything right and yet the wood still wouldn’t catch. Waving the white flag, we forgot about roasted wieners and drove back into town for fish and chips and hot tea. We ended up at Big Daddy’s Fish Fry and oh-my-god it was heaven sent.

By the time we arrived back at the campsite, it was almost 9pm and the rain had only kept on going so we decided to retire. Somewhere in the middle of the night, the precipitation decided to become a torrential downpour, and so by the time we woke up, the only thing left dry was our pajamas. It’s what we drove home in. Every other single item of clothing was soaked through and splashed with mud (except my Total Skull hoodie, which was smeared with blood since I somehow managed to rip my cuticle open while peeling off my wetsuit).

(I have to take a tangent here for a moment and say that I love how welcome dogs are in Tofino, and how much they’re a part of the community. Perhaps if some people in Vancouver were more diligent in cleaning up after their dogs, canines would be more welcome in the city too.)

After a quick stop in at Bruhwiler to thank Raph and grab some shop hoodies, Jenny and I hit Chesterman Beach one last time before our trek back to the east coast of Vancouver Island.

It seems like everyone had the same idea. The rain that fell in Tofino on the two days we were there was the first rainfall the community had seen in over a month. As we snaked our way back along the Pacific Rim Highway, we found ourselves part of a mass exodus of tourists who also had the same idea.

Not so long ago, I was discussing camping in general with one of my best friends and I stated how awesome it is. His idea of “camping” was finding a nice hotel in the woods, though I hugely disagreed at the time. However, after the two drenched and cold days I spent in the woods, I surrender and admit that he may be right. Perhaps I’m just over this whole “roughing it” thing.

Besides, just because you don’t have a campfire and just because you aren’t camping doesn’t mean you can’t indulge in some s’mores. Ahhh…toaster ovens. Bliss for my tongue.

As the first few waves of frigid, salty Pacific Ocean water crashed over my braided head, the only thing I could think was that surfing was better than sex. Really. It’s been close to a decade since I last set foot on a surfboard, and even then I was no good. This time I wanted to do it right and signed up for an afternoon session with Tofino’s legendary Bruhwiler Surf School [website]. While there are a handful of schools on Vancouver Island’s West Coast, it seems to me that the Bruhwiler crew teach simply for the reason that they want to share their passion and way of life with others.

It’s all about the love of the wave.

We arrived at the shop a bit early in time to sign in, and were happy to hear that our wetsuits were already loaded onto the truck for us - one of the many advantages of sending in your body specs by e-mail prior to arriving.

Raph Bruhwiler and Dave the Moustache Man (who gets props for wiping the snot off my face) were our instructors for the day, and I can truly say that both did a stellar job. After a quick 15 (or so) minutes of chat on the sand - including important safety rules and basic theory - we grabbed our boards and headed out. In the words of Johnny Castle: “the best place to learn really is in the water.”

Snaking is definitely not allowed. Catching a “double up” is also not recommended.

Jenny and I hoped to ride another day without instructors, but due to less-than-favourable weather (more about that in the next post), we were forced out of our campsite earlier than we’d hoped.

To say that I can’t wait to head out again would be the understatement of 2008. The boys of Bruhwiler were phenomenal teachers and the encouraging vibe in our small group gave me the get-up-and-go that I needed. After about half an hour in the waves, I was actually standing up on nearly every other wave that I caught, and the feeling was simply euphoric. Like I said, better than sex.

I’d like to catch one of Bruhwiler Surf School’s two-day Roxy surf camps next summer with some girlfriends (and I think they know who they are). To find more information on the sport, the instructors, rates and camps, visit Bruhwiler Surf School’s site by clicking their logo in my sidebar.

To view all the photos from our ultimate surfing experience, click on over to my Flickr.

You don’t have to like the music of ABBA, you don’t have to like glitter…you don’t even have to like musicals at all. Anyway you slice it, however, “Mamma Mia!” is certainly “a trip down the aisle you’ll never forget.” When you have a superb cast helmed by Meryl Streep, there’s nearly no conceivable way it could go wrong. I saw the super-hit musical at the Queen Elizabeth Theatre a few years ago, and by the end, the entire audience was on their feet, singing and dancing right along with the cast. I’d hoped the film would have the same magic to it.

Much like the live musical, “Mamma Mia!” follows the story of a young girl, Sophie, who’s raised on a small Greek Island by her mother, Donna. As Sophie’s wedding approaches, her desperation to find out who her real father is becomes impossible to ignore. After finding her mother’s journal from the year Sophie was born, she invites three possible men in hopes that one of them will be her father. When ensues after that is anyone’s guess - and surprise!

Photo: Universal Pictures

Luckily, seeing “Mamma Mia!” transition from stage to screen was nearly seamless. The point of the film, in my opinion, is pure entertainment, and entertain it does. The characters seemingly have a way of connecting with the audience in such a way that one could almost understand their inside jokes together. Each and every song and dance number is a treat to watch and Meryl Streep’s turn as Donna had me astounded. The woman’s got pipes!

If you’re anything like me, you’ll find yourself constantly (and hypnotically) torn between admiring Meryl Streep’s flawless cheekbones or Amanda Seyfried’s near perfect breasts. Either is a welcome distraction from Pierce Brosnan’s unfortunate turn at singing. Let’s hope making musicals doesn’t turn into a new career move for the former James Bond.

Check out the trailer below if you haven’t already, and visit the “Mamma Mia!”
website for more goodies.

Thanks for another superb and super fun date, Becky!

Lately, it seems, I cannot get enough of South Park. It’s crude, crass and entirely inappropriate. Why I find it funny, I have no idea. Tied for the first place trophy of “Best Character,” in my opinion, are Eric Cartman and Leopold “Butters” Stotch.

One of my favourite episodes featuring both aired during the seventh season, in which Kyle must choose three friends to invite to his birthday party. The party is being held at Cartman’s favourite place in the whole world, Casa Bonita. When Eric finds out that Kyle invited Butters as his third friend to the Mexican restaurant, Cartman attempts to foil the plan and convinces Butters to hide in a bomb shelter so that he can take Butters’ place.

In the end, Cartman’s scheming plot is eventually found out, but he’s not willing to go down without a fight - or at least a little bit of fun.

Interestingly enough, as I surfed the web regarding this episode, I uncovered this little gem. Who knew? Anyone want to make a trip to Denver with me this weekend?

It is, however, a minute(ish)-long example of just how incredibly, adorably special dogs are. Only once in a blue moon does Benji meet a dog he likes, and he’s taken to Peanut like a fish to water. Here’s hoping that we’ll see the helicopter propeller tomorrow!

And don’t worry: I am a woman, therefore I multitask. I can simultaneously shoot video while still managing to throw Casey’s purple bone for him.

Okay, not entirely because I’m lazy. It’s very, very early on Monday morning and I’ve got a lot of work to do. While it’s true I haven’t posted since Friday, I was enjoying myself with a relaxing time at home with my family and Charley. They’re soul food, I tell you.

Anyways, check back tonight for what will should be an interesting and/or useful post (at least if you’re a gal). But for now, in an effort to keep you entertained, here is what I believe to be one of the best fight scenes in cinematic history.

As a little girl, Big Trouble In Little China was my favourite movie. As an adult lady, Big Trouble In Little China is still my favourite movie. Jack Burton has long been this girl’s hero. It must be his knife.

Now you tell me: what’s your favourite flick from the 80s?