The subscriber exodus from Netflix following their price hike has been eye opening. The company continues to take a beating on the stock market, and the announced intent to split the company into two separate entities (one focused on mailed disc-media rentals, the other on streaming content) has done little to thwart the rapid decline. If anything, the decision to name the new offshoot Qwikster (the butt of many jokes) combined with the unfortunate @qwikster account on Twitter has provided fodder for the comedic onslaught.

Somewhere along the way the company lost touch, and in turn it compromised the trust built up over the years between countless Netflix subscribers and a company who clearly seemed to “get it” from the onset — or so it seemed from the outside looking in. How did the company that foresaw the demise of disc media come up with the idea to split the company in two and apply a name seemingly rejected from every web 2.0 startup naming pool?

Anyone not paying close enough attention to the events as they’ve unfolded could easily blame the attrition on the price hike, after all this was the tipping point for a large group of people who’d grown accustomed to the virtues of Netflix’s service. Unfortunately the truth is that the poorly handled fee hike was just the result of the company’s detachment from reality, a side effect brought on by distancing themselves from the very things that built the company up as a disruptive service to a growing audience seeking new ways to access their content.

So where did it all go wrong?

CEO Reed Hastings had a vision when he founded the company in 1997, and it comprised of the very romantic tech dream of delivering the entire library of Hollywood content to living rooms in HD quality without the use of disc-media. That dream drove Hastings’ vision for the company, prompting him to publicly call out the shelf life of disc-based content consumption despite Netflix building their core business by disrupting the disc-based delivery and rental industry. It was this open public awareness of this industry-wide shelf life that painted the picture of Netflix being a company so forward-thinking, so innovative, and so aware of the needs of a growing audience of what would later be deemed “cord cutters” that it seemed destined for continued success.

Netflix was one of those companies that consistently found its way atop my list of “dream employers.” A few years ago I had the opportunity to interview with them for a product management position, and although I’m not going to answer “why” I will say this, the process was…enlightening. Looking back, this feels like a watershed moment, and the recent debacle has only helped fuel this realization — resurfacing specific changes to the product that should have stood out as a warning signs, but were instead somehow magically overlooked.

Let’s go back to the beginning

When Netflix launched, it couldn’t fully deliver on Hastings’ vision to deliver every movie in the Hollywood library. How could it? The company was restricted only to content released on DVD, so in some ways Netflix was at the mercy of the DVD release cycle resulting in a restricted catalog from the very beginning. However, this didn’t prove to be a huge problem for the company, as renters were already accustomed to a limited selection on DVD, and the team cleverly innovated around this hurdle by introducing the ability to save unavailable titles to a queue.

Genius.

If a title isn’t available yet, no need to worry. I can let my buddy Netflix know that I’m interested in the film by saving it to my queue, and when the title is available I’ll be excited to hear the news. Netflix delights me. It excites me.

It solves the age old FOMO problem.

Say what you will about any other area of innovation, from recommendations to streaming, nothing beats a simple functional utility that happens to smartly deliver on emotional returns. It’s the gift that keeps on giving. When new movies were released in theaters, I’d simply Netflix them in anticipation of an upcoming rental. Over time the company introduced and killed a swath of features geared toward utility and community. A feed of content reviewed by your friends was a notable addition, but ultimately bit the dust due dismal adoption numbers. I know firsthand that their user base wasn’t taking to community features and this lead to its demise, but in my circle of friends this was a blow to trust as well.

While in pursuit of a grander vision, the company seemed to have stumbled upon a mix of features, from rating to queuing and reviewing, that really caused its audience to embed further in the service. Not only was the service cost-effective from a savings perspective, but it also delivered on time invested as well. Netflix became a service I trusted because I learned that by giving Netflix more information I could come to rely on it to tell me when a movie I wanted to see became available, my ratings resulted in the recommendation of a new undiscovered title, or my friend posted a review of a recently rented movie.

It was fun. It was helpful.

So flash forward to the state of things now. The rate hike has caused countless people to either reduce their subscriptions, or flounce altogether. I fall in the former camp, and this has had implications for me as well. For example, as a streaming user I can only search the streaming catalog from here on out. Gone are the days where I could find a title that is unavailable, request an alert if streaming is available, and trust that Netflix will solve my FOMO.

Additionally, gone are the better recommendations as the content offering cannot compare to a library of DVD and Blu-Ray content. Instead, Netflix has turned into a dottering old fool regurgitating the same tired recommendations over and over again.

Lastly, the fun is long gone. Even though only a few people engaged, it was fun to see what my friends were watching on the service. Sometimes it made me embarrassed based on my selections, and other times it gave a sense of comfort that I’m not the only person who curls up to a horror schlock-fest from time to time. Either way, this was eliciting an emotional response.

Long ago the company swapped its insight into the needs of a growing user audience for the lust after business objectives. Hastings has admitted that his own arrogance played into this, and that the manner in which this was handled was shortsighted, but this feels like it might be a little too late. And that saddens me. Can the company get back in touch? I don’t know.

The original Hastings vision is not flawed, and the decision to make the necessary business moves to position the company closer to achieving that vision makes total senses. The manner in which these decisions were handled was flawed, and it speaks volumes about the value of the user in the eyes of the company. The decision to move away from solving small problems for users only reinforces this perspective.

Sorry Netflix, the trust is gone.

Twitter describes the service on its help pages as:

…an experimental feature that helps you find interesting new accounts to follow by tweeting Who To Follow suggestions, personalized just for you! This feature was created by Twitter, and it looks like a normal Twitter account – it will Tweet recommendations which you can reply to, retweet or mark as favorites.

Pretty cool, right?

Since then not every mention has been as flattering (obviously, the purpose of this service isn’t to dole out flattery to nobodies like myself), but for the most part they have been decent overall. Over time, the quality of the mentions declined. Today tipped the scale. In a tweet posted earlier I was @mentioned alongside what can only be described as a spam account. Nay, a porn spam account. See for yourself:

So, I may be guilty for tweeting a lot. I may also be guilty for running my mouth off from time to time. But how in the world am I in the same class as a porn spam account? Better yet, how can this possibly be acceptable from an official Twitter account?

How does it work?

@twittersuggests is a feature which looks like a Twitter account – it algorithmically generates suggestions of users to follow and sends them to you.

@twittersuggests will tweet recommendations to you via @mentions, and this Tweet will appear in your @mentions timeline.

Sure, the company describes this with words like “algorithmically” and “experimental,” but it’s really hard to believe that this was launched with any sort of testing whatsoever. If there are any resources applied to this experiment, they certainly don’t appear to be doing any tuning that is having a positive impact. To the contrary, the quality appears to be decreasing over time. The sad thing is, if I were new to Twitter I might find a service like this valuable if the accounts recommended remained of decent quality, but that’s just not the case here. Worse still is that there are so many simple ways this could be avoided.

Before I get pummeled with the argument the “false positives are expensive” argument (Yes, I’ve read @kellan’s excellent write-up, and have firsthand experience with this as well) let me call out that this is an entirely different scenario. The cost of false positives is only applicable when you choose to deny accounts access to basic services. If a company restricts an account from using the basic functionality of a site because of an unsubstantiated suspicion, then sure…that’s expensive.

However, tweeting account recommendations that might otherwise trip overly sensitive spam-detecting algorithms is a choice mistake. Twitter owns this account, they have the right to be overly choosy about the accounts featured in their recommendations, and an account that includes obvious keywords like “sex” and “porn” is a safe one to filter out of that list, just to play it safe. Now, building a recommendations engine is tough. It’s not easy to get these things right, and I’m certainly sympathetic to this. I guess I’m reacting so strongly here because this feels like one of those avoidable mistakes, especially because there is literally no harm in restricting an account like this from being recommended.

In other news…

Speaking of mouthing off…I shared my thoughts on the news of the Beyonce-pregnancy-VMA induced milestone Twitter reached in terms of TPS (FYI — that’s, obnoxiously, “tweets per second”) this weekend, and look what happened. Awesomesauce.

I’ve been out of the comic book game for a while now, but have wanted to get back into collecting for some time.

When you’ve been away for so long (hint: I dropped off back when Marvel was in the middle of a Civil War and DC was recovering from Infinite Crisis vis a vis 52) how do you know where and when to jump back in? Thankfully a series of recent events have pushed me back in the direction of the comic bins, and I’m finding my way. So with this double-sized post I’m kicking off a new themed column called “From the Bin.” Enjoy.

Blame the Kid

First, I’m raising a comic book nerd. My daughter has a growing interest in comics ever sense she accompanied me to a screening of Thor. She found the trailer via the Flixster iPhone app, and had a dozen questions about the Norse God of Thunder. Eventually this lead to the penultimate question, “Daddy, will you take me to see Thor?” I knew it was a gamble. Branagh was hired on specifically to bring a staged feel to the film, so I knew there would be stretches of dialogue-rich banter between Thor and his paterfamilias. How would she fair during these sequences? In the end, she made it through loving the film and the characters, which has been odd for me because while I certainly enjoyed Thor’s involvement in The Avengers, I’ve never been a huge fan of the Thor books in standalone. The Warriors Three? That’s another story.

Whatever, it got her into the idea of comics, so who’s complaining? Certainly not me.

We took another gamble on X-Men: First Class. I was worried about the violence here, but she really enjoyed it overall. I’d think twice about showing her films like this if she didn’t leave asking the right questions. For example, after Thor she latched onto the problems Thor faced around listening to his father, and learning to be responsible for his actions. In X-Men she totally latched onto the themes of difference and tolerance.

Next up was Captain America, and in between the films I showered her with some comic book influenced content. We scoured the web for classic Kirby covers, especially those with Cap facing off against the Red Skull. I pulled some old comics out of my long boxes to give here. I wanted to get the feel of the pulpy page between her fingers, and even though these were throwaway issues, I made sure to pull ones with Thor and Beast, two characters she seemingly identified with from the films. These were totally garbage issues, so who cares if she thrashed them? In addition to comics, she started asking for Spider Man cartoons. The entire 1967 collection of Spidey cartoons are available on Netflix, so viola!

After Captain America she started asking for more comics, so I decided it was time to get back into collecting. The rules? She has to learn to care for her books.

Picking Our Books

So today we went to a couple comic shops. I love Illusive Arts, so we eventually ended up back over there. She gravitated to Cap, Thor, and Spidey. I helped her find a few age appropriate books, and she tossed in an issue of Megamind for good measure.

I, on the other hand, had far more trouble choosing which books to pull, and where to jump back in. With a slew of broad Avengers titles, where does it make sense to start? Mighty? New? The straight Avengers line or Avengers Academy? Seriously? I wanted to dive back into Brubaker’s Captain America run, pulling back issues to catch up, but then it looks like Cap is rebooting with a new #1 and Brubaker at the helm.

Speaking of reboots, DC is relaunching their entire line in two weeks, so what’s the point in catching up? Might as well wait for the relaunch and pick a few books to follow…right?

After pacing Illusive in indecision for a half hour, I finally spoke up and asked for some pointers, and I think I landed in a good spot. Daredevil has been rebooted with Mark Waid at the helm, so I snagged that. I also grabbed the aforementioned Captain America, and Bendis’ Moon Knight #1. To top it off, I grabbed the second printing of Fear Itself #1 just to get a taste of the latest big Marvel event. Let’s dive into my reviews.

Note: I’m fully aware that the following books are not all new releases. As time goes on I’ll get caught up with newer releases, so bear with me.

Moon Knight #1

Bendis has been talking up a Moon Knight run for what seems like forever now, but apparently 2011 was the magic number for Marc Spector. Earlier this year Bendis and Maleev teamed up to relaunch Moon Knight, and the first issue delivers in several ways. I’ve always been a fan of this creative team — the work they did back on Daredevil never disappointed, and Maleev’s pencils are perfectly suited for Bendis’ grittier urban tales. Here we see a less photo realistic take to the art, and instead we get more of a raw, sketched looking world to play in. It’s a change, but I think it suits the direction the team is taking the characters in. This sketchier look seems to flourish when were drenched in street sequences at night, and becomes more traditional when elements of realism are introduced.

The relaunch begins with what feels like a re-imagining of the Spector origin, but then quickly shifts gears to reveal that it is exactly that. This is one of those unique Bendis flourishes — he plays with the audience in a way few writers do. For example, one would expect a formulaic re-telling of Moon Knight’s origin at the open of a relaunched title, especially when a creative team wishes to take established characters in a new direction. Bendis knows this and delivers on these expectations only to turn the tables on the reader. Spector, once a mercenary left to die, is now a Hollywood producer. His latest work is a re-telling of his own origin as Moon Knight. I suppose the phrase “hiding in plain sight” applies. What does this accomplish? A redefinition of the title character, but without some of the hairier retcon issues this industry typically falls prey to.

Bendis is at his best when weaving smartly interconnected references between plot points, and there are plenty here for fans.

He’s quick to remind us of Moon Knight’s role as an Avenger, setting the stage for Cap and the rest of the team to get involved on the West Coast as needed. Any Bendis critic would immediately jump at the chance to throw stones at this, claiming that Bendis is all too quick to pull these characters into a larger team arc. The formula: Take dated underused character, freshen them up, and toss them into a conspiracy yarn tying them to The Avengers. Continue to play in the comfy confines of that sandbox without stretching your creative muscles.

I get the criticism, although I tend to enjoy his work, but this is one of those cases that proves he’s a smarter writer than critics give him credit for. All the pieces are in place for a genuine Bendis conspiracy mystery right from the onset. Criminals are moving West to avoid the hero rich streets of the East Coast, but exactly which criminals are setting up camp remains unknown. A sly reference to Batman, and the countless fanboy arguments over whether Moon Knight is really just Marvel’s cheap knock off answer to the Dark Knight, and we’re knee deep in the makings of a procedural.

The mood is totally set by Maleev here, anything and everything could happen with the turn of a page, however Bendis is clearly toying with us via several hints dropped in dialogue between thugs. If, like me, you somehow managed to miss this book when released, I’ll refrain from spoilage. But know this, the book pulls a solid yet unexpected hook in the end, and I cannot wait to see how the mystery of the West Coast Kingpin plays out. Read, and then re-read those closing pages. Then flip back to the books opening and feel like the pawn that you are. Yes, its that good, and if this is any indication this book should be an excellent ride.

Captain America #1

Ed Brubaker’s first pass on Captain America was revitalizing. Not only did it do the unthinkable with the Winter Soldier, it pulled from nearly all aspects of Cap’s history. Throughout the first arc I anticipated the appearance of Baron Zemo, and with this series the villain is back to wreak havoc. Ultimately this is right in line with Brubaker’s previous take on the hero. Weaving nostalgia with modern story lines, the book is delicately spun together in a watt that commands your full attention. This is a no-brainer for Cap fans.

Daredevil #1

Matt Murdock is no stranger to turmoil. When I last left the red devil he was up to his ears in personal grief and public disgrace. His identity compromised, Matt has spent his time contemplating his return. Perhaps the easiest title to jump back into thanks to Mark Waid’s take on the Hell’s Kitchen attorney, I’m happy to find Matt in a new mindset. The opening sequence dives right in as Daredevil takes on The Spot at a mafia wedding and ends up on the front page of the morning paper while locking lips with the bride to be. Not a subtle return to the life.

But here’s where things could get potentially interesting. Matt’s costumed exploits prove problematic in the court room, and after a tip from the DA he sets off to investigate why his client has had such trouble finding a lawyer to defend him. This isn’t a jaw dropping beginning to the series, but it is a solid take on Murdock’s return to the spotlight.

What I did find engrossing was the visual language being toyed with throughout the book. Matt’s encounter with The Spot is engrossing, and the switch from our perspective to Matt’s radar enhanced POV is a refreshing take on the power. The real treat came in the additional bonus story packed in at the end of the book. In this yarn we get an additional peek into the changing dynamic between Matt and his oldest friend, Foggy Nelson.

Matt’s new attitude is a change in direction for the character, and if not totally drastic it is certainly logical. Conflicting personal relationships are bound to arise due to his new carefree attitude, and this simple tale plants those seeds well. Additionally, the art in this bonus story is really amazing. We follow the pair through the streets and subways of Hell’s Kitchen, while seeing subtle hints at the sounds and smells triggering Matt’s actions. The panel layout is as much a character here as the two principles, and it really is a delightful read. I hope we get more of that sort of playful storytelling in the issues to come.

Fear Itself #1

The only thing I fear is a summer event that fails to deliver. It doesn’t appear that Fear Itself is on that track, but with only one issue deep the verdict is still out. That said, this first issue is ripe with excellent conflict between Thor and Odin, the all-father. Rightfully so, as the crux of the villainous build centers around the sins of Odin, and someone else claiming to be the true all-father.

I loved portions of this book, but the taste of the two punch House of M / Civil War is still strong in my mouth. I’m wary of big events coming out of the big M house, so I’m treading lightly here.

I’m not sure how I missed this in the onslaught of Comic-Con news, but here it is. Damon Lindelof and Carlton Cuse brought a special gift to the convention this year for Lost fans — definitive proof that they had the entirety of LOST planned out right from the get-go. That’s right, this single scene proves, without a doubt, that they knew where this was headed. They held onto it for a while, but perhaps felt that this was best released now, at a time when it may have a chance to counter the wave of fan backlash from the series finale.

Take a look:

Well, there you have it. Still a doubting Thomas?

All joking aside, I really loved the entirety of LOST, and one of the best aspects of the show was the willingness of Cuse and Lindelof to poke fun at themselves. If anything, this clip should prove that without question.

But I’ve read Django Unchained. That has to count for something.

I’ve been fortunate enough to get my hands on Tarantino’s last three scripts prior to pre-production, and the process of reading before screening has been nothing short of rewarding. A Tarantino script is typically massive. The amount of detail crammed onto the page is, in some ways, overwhelming. Despite all of this detail, nothing compares to the finished product. Quentin has a vision for each film that isn’t always conveyed on the page. I liken this to a persona in some ways. For Kill Bill, the script clearly described some of the shifts in style, but without the luxury of being inside Tarantino’s head these shifts didn’t always make sense on the page. Yet when watching Volume 1 for the first time, the end result was a series of “a-ha” moments.

I expect nothing different when Django hits screens, whenever that happens.

Who is the Villain?

Slavery is a touchy subject. What Tarantino has succeeded in doing is weaving a tale that evolves the character of Django from slave to free man, and then to vengeful hero. Along the way, the figures of influence around Django are viewed through a lens that questions blame. With Inglourious Basterds the attribution of guilt was clear. Hitler, and those misled by him, were clearly the villains without question. This was a vengeance tale of global proportions, and Tarantino’s story of catharsis while watching with German audiences was telling.

They laughed, demons were exorcised, and the world was able to revel in what could’ve been…if only.

Slavery is a whole different ball of yarn, and Tarantino eschews the opportunity to pull in historical figures here. Inglourious Basterds was fact to a certain character level, then below that line was a thick layer of “what if…?” fiction. Django Unchained is intentionally calling the blame question out. It’s easy to identify the evil in hillbilly characters out to torture and rape slaves for no other reason than a desire to be cruel. But inserted into these characterizations are layers of implication, no one will question the level of blame attributed to slave owners inflicting pain and suffering on Django and Broomhilda. But what about those who use Broomhilda to better themselves? Are we to feel sorry for them, or attribute the same vengeful spirit because they allowed the system to perpetuate?

I’m trying to keep things vague here, but you get the picture. It’s a fascinating approach, and I really have to question how some will react. For example, I’m dying to see how Spike Lee will respond to this film.

At the end of the day, the 168 page script is a white hot page turner. It’s cringe-inducing at times, and other times emotional, but it is nothing short of compelling with every turn. I anxiously anticipate seeing that final frame rendered on the big screen, I think it is going to be an awesome moment.

Vancouver has a 7th man as well, only it’s not as rooted at a single location as the Sharks is. It’s mobile, and it uses social media to organize. Oh, and did I mention that it is fully endorsed by Vancouver’s official Twitter account?

Here’s how it works, Vancouver fans organize themselves at tweetups where they watch the game and tweet using various hashtags like #nowayjose and #windaturd. Anecdotally, I’ve noted that during the first two post-season series the Sharks fans have been pretty noisy on Twitter using hashtags like #gosharks and #sjsharks. These have been entertaining to watch, and if you set up a search query that includes the opposing team’s preferred hashtags it provides a nice stream of back channeled discussion during games.

This isn’t the case with Canucks hashtags. When added to San Jose search queries these tweets absolutely flood the streams and snuff out any Sharks tweets posted.

That’s right, the Canucks 7th man is their fanbase on Twitter.

Add to this the insult that was the silent Shark Tank during Game 4 and Vancouver’s tendency to dominate the third period and suddenly the Canuck hashtags take on a whole new light.

So what say you @sanjosesharks? Why not organize fans around a group of hashtags? Encourage viewing parties in San Jose, and motivate fans to do their part?

Overall I think I faired pretty well, although admittedly I needed a few brief breaks along the way. Next weekend I’ll tackle a similar route, although I think I’ll try to space out the climbs a bit more in an effort to mimic something more akin to the route that awaits me in June.

Here’s a look at today’s route and performance:

A couple quick notes:

• The week of the tour I’ll actually be in NYC for Internet Week until Thursday. Flying back with a compressed schedule is concerning, but I’m sure the good folks at Jet Blue will make the trip as comfy as it can be.
• On Friday we have a scheduled move from San Jose to Sunnyvale.
• Sunday is the ride, starting at 6am. For those asking to watch, you’re welcome to come but be warned: I’m anticipating struggling through this ride. If the jet lag, move, and the climbs don’t kill me, I’ll update with my results.
• This was my first ride using Strava (an app specifically designed to track cycling ride data), and I must say it is impressive. I’m brewing a post about this app, but from the angle of building smart products on user data while navigating through user privacy concerns. Fun!

p.s. Good people at Strava, don’t fret! It’s a positive post.

Calling It With Top Gun

If you haven’t read Mark Harris’ excellent GQ op-ed titled “The Day the Movies Died” yet, you really should. In it, Harris selects the Summer of ’87 release of Top Gun as the titular moment in history, and for good reason. Many will instinctually question the choice, citing releases like Star Wars and Jaws instead, but the article is much more than mere film-nerd “What if…” play — it’s aimed at a real trend in the industry that has shaped the new modern day studio system. Enough pretense. If you haven’t given it a read, go do so now.

Other Contributing Factors — The Death of Film Appreciation

Harris’ analysis of marketed film is right on the money, but there is a deeper corrosion at play. Roger Ebert has discussed the death of film criticism in wake of the rising “CelebCult” before, but I intend to carry this a step further. First, Ebert was speaking specifically about criticism in print. Second, Ebert’s thesis centers around the demand for printed gossip, which doesn’t necessarily align with Harris’ assertion that the age of “A-list celebrity as product” has come and gone in Hollywood, replaced instead by “proven product” — sequels, remakes, etc.

So what do I mean by death of film criticism? In film school, my circle of cineastes looked forward to each and every release. The late-90s — early-aughts were an extremely exciting times for American cinema. I’m not going to be so bold as to declare it a movement, it wasn’t. Not every film released was golden, but one can hardly deny that there was an incredible balance of high-concept films released, above and beyond the sequel / spandex genre. Films like Mulholland Dr., Boogie Nights, Requiem for a Dream, Fight Club, The Big Lebowski, The Thin Red Line, Rushmore, He Got Game, Happiness, Memento, American Psycho, Almost Famous, Traffic, Bringing Out The Dead, The Matrix, The Sixth Sense, American Beauty, and many more.

I mention these films for very specific reasons — many of them represent original screenplays, adapted works from lesser-known sources, early films from budding directors, anticipated vehicles from established auteurs, or perhaps most importantly many are, to some degree, polarizing efforts. It was a great time to be studying film theory. But it was ultimately killed, not just by a push to marketing as Harris illustrates, but also by cynicism, in fighting, and the inability to appreciate what we had. What happened?

Flash-forward to the present, and we are met with two films that seemingly incapsulate this dilemma – Shutter Island and Inception. Let’s take a closer look at each:

Shutter Island

The details: Legendary director Martin Scorsese adapts Dennis Lehane’s novel with Leonardo DiCaprio in the lead role. On the surface, the film appears to be a procedural drama exploring the disappearance of a prisoner in a mental institution. However, beneath the surface the film explores the complex intricacies of the human mind and mental illness.

Inception

The details: Newer generation director Christopher Nolan crafts this original film with Leonardo DiCaprio in the lead role. On the surface, the film appears to be a science-fiction heist film using the clever manipulation of the mind. However, beneath the surface the film explores the complex intricacies of creativity, art, and the studio system.

For weeks at a time, I watched as friends engaged in a flat out social media war over which of these two films were superior. Why couldn’t both be appreciated for what they were? Why tear down two films like this? Both are engaging above and beyond the sequelization/spandex trend in the cineplexes, both did well at the box office (one more than the other, but still), and both seemed to resonate with broader audiences. So why?

My theory: In film school circles, it’s less cool to cop to enjoying Nolan’s work than it is to cop to liking a Scorsese genre film.

Disclaimer: I love both of these films. Both are technically superb, tightly wound, and about more than their genre-play surfaces let on. I enjoyed them both in the theaters, and I know quite a few people who did.

So why the hate? Let’s dig into each director briefly:

Scorsese has transformed cinema several times over. His work, both as a director and a champion of archival efforts, has impacted the form in more ways than any other director that comes to mind. The man behind such films as Mean Streets, Taxi Driver, Raging Bull, The King of Comedy, Goodfellas, The Last Temptation of Christ, and Casino (and more) can’t always turn out gem after gem. Films like The Gangs of New York and Bringing Out the Dead were met with less-than-accepting responses from the film school set. More on that in a bit.

Nolan made his way into prominence via the independent circuits, first with Following and then with Memento. After adapting Insomnia for American audiences, Nolan began a transitioning pattern between pet projects and blockbusters, in the process re-inventing the Batman franchise with Batman Begins and The Dark Knight.

Few directors are more polarizing in film geek circles than Christopher Nolan. Many of my colleagues won’t even speak of Following, and are quick to bash Memento, in large part because of the darling status it achieved amongst mainstream audiences. Despite the films complicated time structure, Memento remained appealing to the broader audiences, and this accomplished two things:

• The film did decent business at the box office, earning 5 times its cost with the largest release being only 531 screens. This established Nolan as a player in the eyes of the Hollywood system.
• Playing with time is a film school convention, so bringing such a complex exercise in time-bending to a mass audience in such a digestible package was off-putting for many film school types.*

* Note: Yes, Pulp Fiction was a far more successful exercise in time-bending at the Box Office, but Tarantino’s film still left plenty of unlockable film theory references that puzzled the masses, while giving the film school crowd a badge of merit to own. Memento brought all of the fun of time-play to audiences without the need for film theory explanations.

The desire to keep film appreciation as an insider’s game is an instinct embedded into each and every film student. It’s innate, and likely permeates from the industry itself. However, this sort of thing results in in-fighting and opens the door for marketing-centric films to dominate at the box office. Looking back, I wish more of my colleagues had been able to look at things contextually – separating things like craft and execution from subjective like/dislike — before tearing original works apart publicly. Who cares if the subject matter didn’t appeal to you? The multiplexes are already dominated by mindless dreck, and soon there may not be room for polarizing films like Magnolia and Punch-Drunk Love, which means that the next There Will Be Blood might never see the light of day.

What’s worse?

It’s not the scratch that hurts, originally uploaded by marioanima.

Before anyone panics, I didn’t get into an accident. Instead, I met up with the guy who put my first big gash on my bike again today on Caltrain, and he did it again. This time around I mentioned it to him. Before I give you the primer, here are a few things to note:

I’m not completely bothered by scratches…they are bound to happen.

Yes. I know about the conventional wisdom of “the beater bike.” I choose to use my bike for commute/training, so I don’t want to spend time in the saddle of a bike I don’t intend to actually use on longer rides.

The person in question uses some unconventional lugs to fasten his saddle to his bike. These lugs are big and pointy in places.

Anyway, here’s how the whole thing went down:

I saw him removing his bike from the rack. While he did this, I saw that there were fresh scratches on my bike and said, “Hey there, no worries about this, but in the future you might want to be careful when racking your bike.

Total silence from him.

I continued, “It looks like your saddle has some lug nuts that are placed conveniently to scratch paint.”

He looked at me and stammered, “It’s really difficult to remember all of this stuff, you know.”

I said, “Difficult? It’s not that hard…” He cut me off with, “I used to have a nice bike too, and it got all messed up. It’s difficult to remember this stuff, so that’s why I use this beat up bike now.”

I said to him, “Is it also too difficult to apologize?” He just walked away.

My issue really isn’t the scratch, but rather his need to justify why I am to blame for this. I didn’t approach him in a combative way, didn’t ask him to pay up, or accuse or insinuate that any of this was done maliciously. Yet, his response was basically shock that I would even be concerned about this at all. Or what’s worse, that his choice to use a beater bike somehow absolves him from any need to care or connect in an empathetic way to another person.

Simply put, an “Oh man, I’m sorry dude” really goes a long way. He might go off and dismiss the need to double-check other bikes when racking his bike on the train for all I care, but in the moment he couldn’t even bring himself to say “sorry.”

I guess sometimes it’s just too difficult for some people to be polite. The scratch is no biggie, I have paint to fix it. It’s just the state of our world socially that brings me down.

I am absolutely blown away by the generosity of my friends. Seriously. You guys are amazing. If, by chance, you missed out on my Facebook and Twitter spam, here’s what I’m up to:

One of my personal goals this year was to complete a Century Ride. Another goal was to do something to benefit a cause I believe in. Well, by the end of this endeavor I will have completed one of those two goals. Hint, it’s not the Century Ride. Sure, the Tour de Cure falls just shy of the 100 mile requirement for a true Century, but honestly I’m not sure if I’m up to the challenge of a Century just yet. So instead, a 75 mile ride!

While the Tour de Cure falls short of a Century, it does help out with the second personal goal I listed: doing something to benefit a cause I believe in. Many of us have witnessed the lives of loved ones impacted by diabetes, and many of us may eventually find ourselves impacted by this disease ourselves. To do my part, I will be cycling in the American Diabetes Association’s Tour de Cure fundraising event.

So, here’s the update: I’ve already had to increase my initial goal once, and it looks like I’ll be doing it again before too long. I’m 73% of the way to my $1,000 goal, and if we crush that I’ll double it to $2,000. Amazing. So if you have the means to…help out?

Here’s the breakdown day-by-day:

So there you have it. Things are going well so far, and my training is coming along. Tomorrow morning I’m going to attempt a longer ride to help extend my endurance. I have plenty of time to train, but I’m hoping to get a jump on things by upping the training in advance. I’ll be spending a lot more time in the saddle, but I guess that will help break in that nice new Brooks Saddle, right?

Anyway, while the training is entirely on me, I’m asking my friends and family to continue donating to the cause if they can afford to do so. I really want to push this as far as I possibly can, so if you have the ability to pitch in, no matter how big or small, I greatly appreciate the support.

Here’s my plan, I want to give the credit where credit is due, so I’m going to maintain a list of the folks who’ve shown support thus far. Without them, this wouldn’t be possible:

• Andy Volk
• Danielle Cuisinot
• Ofer Shaked
• Michael Evans
• Lynn Kysh
• Ryan and Melina Reich
• Michael Gleeson
• Brigett McLafferty
• Rod Naber
• Kitaho Kato
• Andrea Moed
• Erin and Cardy Anima
• Bruno Furnari
• Marco Zagha
• Russ Reich
• Joshua Paredes
• Jared Elson
• Becky Uline
• Brenda Silvia

(note: if you’re listed and you’d like me to link somewhere specific, please let me know.)