Dub’s Take: Ferrari

A spoiler-free mini movie review.


Michael Mann films are divisive. They are Tarantino-esque, with sharp, heavily-stylized direction, punctuated by quick bursts of violence. But Mann isn’t a goofball like most of the characters in a Tarantino movie, and Mann’s films are often misrepresented as action movies. No Michael Mann film is wholly an action movie, and almost all take themselves far too seriously. Once again, with “Ferrari”, I was fooled by the advertising, which classifies the picture as a thrilling extravaganza.

What Ferrari the film actually is, is Mann finally embracing his dramatic side. If you go in knowing there’s maybe 15 total minutes of actual racing in its 2-hour+ runtime, you’ll enjoy it. In fact, none of its racing scenes are as exciting, empathy-inducing, or as well-framed as the ones in Neill Blomkamp’s “Gran Turismo”: barring two admittedly-spectacular crashes, I found Erik Messerschmidt’s camera is often too low to the ground in the close-ups with an over-reliance on wide shots – as the Oscar-winning cinematographer of “Mank”, he should have brought us within reach of those fast, pretty cars. There were also some abrupt transitions (the first dramatized race in the movie starts after a crash on the track that the viewer doesn’t see OR learn about until the other drivers are trying to pass it) that suggest the inevitable Director’s Cut is coming soon. While revisionism is part of Mann’s artistic method, I won’t need to see the movie again.

Great work by Adam Driver – I don’t usually seek his films out – and excellent pulsing orchestral soundtrack (in that Michael Mann way, just with actual instruments) by Daniel Pemberton. Mann should direct a straight romantic movie next without any tough fluff: he would probably be really successful at it.

4 out of 5

Poster sourced from imdb.com. Anyone interested in more of my ramblings on Michael Mann may enjoy this dissection of his first major film “Thief”. Don’t agree? Think the racing scenes were awesome? Big Mann fan? Sick of biopics? Comment why don’t ‘cha!

my weenis is on the table

A poem.


not all femicentric stories of woe
have to include their version of Romeo,
but the fact my fantasy mind upholds
is that every straight male tries to manifest that one
who will get on their hands and knees without
anything needing to be
said or done –
a natural proclivity to procreate

that still will take
generations to satiate.
i won’t be around that late:
when sex is either so criminally problematic
or we’ve all turned into reprobates.
oh wait…

on the news there’s a reprint
about a local school district’s teaching assistant
who got fired for her OnlyFans account.
keeping in mind this is a story involving children,
the real brief was the outlet shared her online pseudonym –
ladies if y’all wondering where yer dads is at,
’cause now the damn media has me thinking:

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no sooner than later

A poem.


it’s 2006,
right after my surgery
lest anyone ever lets me forget;
poor me, poor me, poor me…

i’m staying in a RMCH-like for
horny seniors & teenagers alike,
and right outside my bedroom window
is a double-wide trashcan transients treat like an idol –
big enough to catch a flying fugitive Keanu:

i’m up late at night writing over the phone with a friend
whilst friends of the garbagepeople do their job for them.
bio-waste probably didn’t go in there –
one hopes –
but i can’t imagine it was loaded with lacquerware
when 90% of the co-tenants were lucky enough
to be off of the street themselves –
with library access to a fax machine to sign up for MSP –
to die affordably
and at their own pace within the year.

at least i could say that my mother was there.

now it is the hard, cold future
of 2023:
there is no free parking on the street
of the residential body
where my wife & i look after a furry family familiar
for two weeks.

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Video: prey

A Visual Poem


Produced in 2011 //wd

Transcript:

tell me a story.

tell me a story about a life.
about a life and a death.
a story about a man from within
from within,
where a body becomes a flower
and a tree becomes its prey.

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