1. Gary Brolsma – Numa Numa kid
Gary Brolsma rose to fame in 2002 when the then 18 year old posted a video of himself lip-synching to a Romanian song “Numa Numa”. In September 2006, he released a new version. Has been viewed over 13 million times (according to Wikipedia) and has spawned many parodies.
2. Ghyslain Raza – Star Wars Kid
The 2003 clip shows Quebec teen Ghyslain Raza performing Jedi light saber moves with a golf ball retriever. Shot in his high school, when his classmates found the tape they posted it on the internet. Raza sued the kids who swiped his tape, asking for 350-thousand dollars. The case was recently settled for an undisclosed amount.
3. Denny Blaze – The Average Homeboy
90’s rap audition tapes from “average homeboy” Blazin Hazen. He returns presently teaming up with internet star Leslie “Gem Star” Hall in the video Cadillac Beats.
4. Jessica Rose – Lonelygirl15
An elaborate internet faux masterminded by three San Francisco friends. Lonelygirl15 posted video blogs from her bedroom of her strictly religious parents. Searching for love lonleygirl aka Bree, was portrayed by actress Jessica Rose.
Algunas cosas son patrimonio del mundo. Generalmente, las mejores cosas lo son, y el hip hop es una de ellas. Porque, aunque nacido en el Bronx y armado de Pumas de colores, cinturones metalizados, breaks de funk y bailes crujenucas, el hip hop ya es de todas las partes, todos los países. Su lenguaje, las formas físicas (bailadores rotos-graffiti-pinchadisquismo-rimadores) que aquel adoptó para expresar una conciencia de clase, un estado de las cosas de la juventud negro-hispana en el entorno urbano de los Estados Unidos, es un lenguaje tan empático, tan adoptable, tan universal, que –aunque no podría haber nacido en ninguna otra parte- puede reproducirse por todo el globo. Puede reproducirse, en Sevilla, por ejemplo. Y cuando lo hace, lo hizo, fue de una manera tan natural que –como dice el lugar común- parecía que fuera vivido allí toda la vida. Esa situación, la de un rap y hip hop autóctono, andaluz, que es honesto y local y no trata de copiar dogmas ajenos, es la que se desmigaja en este magnífico documental de Juan José Ponce. En él, los raperos Tote King, el grupo SFDK- formado por Zatu Rey y Acción Sánchez -, Juaninacka y Dogma Crew (El Puto Largo, Hijo Pródigo, Legendario y Demonio), además de algunos graffiteros como Logan o SLK, cantan y pintan, se mueven ante la cámara, nos enseñan como se vive el hip hop en Sevilla City. ¿Y cómo se vive? En palabras de Tote King, “Rap es lo que hago, hip hop es lo que vivo, con el sol estudio y por la noche escribo, sé testigo del plan que persigo sin preludios, adjetivos calificativos para mi objetivo, vida sin interludios. ¿Ombligo del mundo? Soy algo más peculiar que el ego profundo de un rapper con fobia social; duermo en literas, mi cuarto es un zulo, formulo historias, libera tu mente como un móvil oscuro, con euforia”. Es un fragmento de su canción “Música para enfermos”, y refleja la actitud de todos estos pequeños guerreros del hip hop hacia su cultura, lo más importante para ellos, lo que les hace ir “p’alante”. Juan José Ponce no se detiene en pormenores matemáticos ni biografías extendidas; la suya es la visión fragmentada, vivida, que nace de la garganta del rapper sevillano, sin florituras ni zarandajas. Sevilla City, por todo lo argumentado, es un documental sincero y directo y muy recomendable, y en nuestras pantallas se antoja como el perfecto complemento a aquel celebrado Underground del pasado In-Edit que documentaba la subcultura Sevillana de los 70.
1. Trust your script. It’s easy to fall in love with something that’s “set funny.” Trust the document that made you want to make the film, even if you wrote it yourself.
2. Make sure every scene has a beginning and ending. This could just mean someone closes a door behind them or puts down a telephone or enters frame. You don’t need to use it in editing, but more often than not, you’ll be happy to have it.
3. Be honest. Always ask yourself if the action/dialogue is honest and real to the situation and the characters. A funny line or a cool shot is not as important as preserving the tonal line of the film.
4. Be prepared. The morning of a shoot day, re-read the scene that precedes and follows the one you are shooting. It’s important to know where your characters just came from and where they are going.
5. Use a hard line on your headphones instead of a wireless set. You’ll hear the dialogue clearer, which is often a better way to measure a performance than watching it.
6. Don’t eat shellfish off the catering truck. Why chance it?
Al director neoyorquino Antonio Campos le tocó ayer defender su ‘Afterschool’, su última película, casi como si su presencia tras los micrófonos fuera la de un experto en internet. Y todo porque esta historia hace inmersión en el gigantesco mundo de la red para hablar de las influencias del entorno, de la culpa del que observa y no interviene y del que consume aquello que critica. Y lo hace combinando las técnicas del vídeo y del cine, incluso de las grabaciones a través de los teléfonos móviles, arrojando por el medio del camino un discurso sobre la práctica cinematográfica que la descubre como un enemigo de la «perfección interpretativa». Así lo asumía ayer, antes de explicar que quiere dejar «abierta la película al espectador», para que cada cual interprete qué ha pasado, pues al final, también su producto es susceptible de una nueva reedición, como le pasa al protagonista de la película con el vídeo escolar.
I don’t remember how or why I got there, but the fact is I clicked. After two hours on YouTube, you’re no longer responsible for your actions. Something primal takes over. The ancient need for distraction–Man’s Search for Funny.
The clip was called Molly Grows Up and was typical YouTube: Two dudes dug up an old, public domain, black-and-white “health class” movie about a prototypical ’50s teen coming to grips with puberty. Then they dubbed over the original dialogue with the sort of pseudo-stoner banter everyone recognizes as “bored, ironic hipster.”
I admit it was pretty funny. I even watched all two-and-a-half minutes of it (an eternity on YouTube). Nothing terribly original, but the pace was fast, the jokes mildly crude and the message clear: Eat more Wendy’s!
Eat more Wendy’s?
It turns out the clip in question wasn’t the product of two dudes in a basement in Bethesda, but 20 suits in a Madison Avenue high-rise. (On second viewing, they did mention Wendy’s 99¢ Super Value Menu more than could be reasonably explained by the munchies…) The whole thing–three YouTube clips and an equally low-rent Website–was whipped up by a division of McCann-Erickson, one of the world’s biggest advertising firms.
This is the latest list comprised of the 50 best high school movies of all time, polled in the US. The source is found at official Entertainment Weekly website. Details for each movie are listed online.
1. The Breakfast Club – 1985
We see it as we want to see it — in the simplest terms, the most convenient definition: The Breakfast Club is the best high school movie of all time. It may lack the scope of its peers — the drinking, the driving, the listless loitering in parking lots — as well as any scenes that actually take place during school. But if hell is other people — and high school is hell — then John Hughes is the genre’s Sartre, and this is his No Exit. The concept is simple: one Saturday detention, five unhappy teens, and their scramble to prove they’re each something more than a brain (Anthony Michael Hall), an athlete (Emilio Estevez), a basket case (Ally Sheedy), a princess (Molly Ringwald), and a criminal (Judd Nelson). Following the farcical fluff of Sixteen Candles, the issues Hughes explored — sex, drugs, abuse, suicide, the need to belong to something — were surprisingly subversive and handled with bracing, R-rated honesty. ”’Kids movie’ was a derogatory term,” recalls Nelson, ”and Hughes was definitely not making that.” Thus, 21 years later, the film still sparks intense debates about the trials of teen life. (Sheedy’s goth freak gets a makeover, then gets the guy: well-earned happy ending or antifeminist propaganda? Discuss!). Never mind the serious sociological stuff. The Breakfast Club rules because watching the group dismantle/ignore the authority of Principal ”Dick” Vernon (Paul Gleason) is a vicarious thrill at any age. It rules because Simple Minds’ ”Don’t You Forget About Me” is a kick-ass theme. Mostly it rules because, as Hall puts it: ”In the end, you learn maybe we’re more alike than we realize, and that’s kind of cool.” Leave it to the neo-maxi-zoom-dweebie to get all cheesy.
2. Fast Times at Ridgemont High – 1982
When screenwriter Cameron Crowe went undercover to observe the species Teenagerus americanus, he returned with more than the usual grab-bag of anecdotes about horny, apple-pie-humping guys and the popularity-obsessed girls who must fight them off with a stick. He returned with 24-karat truth. To watch Fast Times today is to know exactly what it felt like to be fixated on sex, drugs, and rock & roll in Southern California circa 1982. It also launched careers and dished out still-relevant life lessons: Jennifer Jason Leigh (relax your throat muscles when fellating a carrot), Phoebe Cates (always knock before entering a bathroom), and Judge Reinhold. And Sean Penn’s Jeff Spicoli, with his checkerboard Vans and bong-hit grin, was a geyser of catchphrases (”Aloha, Mr. Hand!”). The film never strains for coming-of-age treacle. Maybe that’s why it still feels so…right. Especially Damone’s sage advice: ”When it comes down to making out, whenever possible put on side one of Led Zeppelin IV.”
3. Dazed and Confused – 1993
Matthew McConaughey’s Wooderson likes high school girls because even though he gets older, they stay the same age. We feel the same way about Richard Linklater’s minutiae-filled comedic epic about the last day of school in 1976 — we may get older, but Dazed is ageless. And for a movie featuring so many stoners, Dazed is mammothly ambitious: Few other films say as much about starting, sticking around in, and leaving high school.