We're only human.
The United States of Leland - Teenager Leland Fitzgerald (Ryan Gosling) appears to have everything going for him, including a famous writer father (Kevin Spacey). So, what drove him to kill? It's up to Pearl Madison (Don Cheadle), a teacher who works with inmates, to discover the anger, frustration and fear lurking beneath Leland's otherwise unruffled surface. Before long, Pearl helps Leland discover the truth about the painful past that led him to his excruciating present.
Gosling was 23 when he starred in this role, and I get the feeling he was trying to go for "quietly thoughtful teenager" but my first impression was "mentally deficient 20-something" because of his obvious physical maturity blended with intentional gawkiness and the inability to enunciate or say the right thing. Going beyond that, the character Leland is a disappointed character. Not disappointing--disappointed. He's unable to look at people and things and situations without seeing misery behind it all, so most of the time he "blocks it out" ... but when he can't "block it out" anymore, he blacks out one day, and kills his ex-girlfriend's retarded brother, whom he sees as the most miserable person he knows. Most of the film I was thinking, Sociopath.
Most of the poor reviews I've seen for this film come from the so-called moral muddle we're presented with. It does leave a lot to think about, much of it unpleasant. There are a lot of moral and theological questionings going on here. Why man creates/needs G-d and the devil (or just good and evil, if you like), why people do bad things at all, how the way people see the universe can have adverse effects on their social behavior, etc. Of course, there's the whole confusion around Leland's murderous act--Was it drugs? A falling out with his girlfriend? Lack of parenting? What made him snap? In the end, we don't really have a clear picture as to the big 'why'--why Leland killed this harmless kid that he obviously doesn't dislike, whom he, in fact, walks home all the time and takes care of better than the boy's own siblings and parents. But then the character was very up-front with the fact that there would be no decent 'why'--bad things happen, people are bastards, and sometimes trying to see a reason is completely futile.
To the other characters, it can't be said that Leland isn't a product of his environment. His father is an emotionally distant, though extremely successful, author who hasn't seen his son for ten years (he sends him an airplane ticket to a different city around the world every year, but he's never there). His girlfriend is an upper-middle-class junkie in reform school who dumps him for another junkie. Her parents basically ignore her in favor of her college-bound sister and sister's boyfriend (who happens to live with them for weird family reasons of his own). The college-bound sister is dumping the boyfriend after her brother's murder, and the boyfriend gets himself arrested so that he can make it into prison in order to murder Leland. Really, nothing is right with any of these people, and you have to wonder if it was much better before Leland's day of blacking out.
The filming is very stark at certain points. While in jail, Leland is wearing an orange jumper; into flashback mode, he's often wearing a hooded sweatshirt of the same bright pylon-orange while everyone around him is in muted gray tones. Ultimately it creates an extreme contrast between Leland and the people surrounding him, physically and mentally.
Message? We're all "only human" and therefore inclined to do wretched things, but hopefully we have the mental capacity to look beyond the moments of misery and not go bat-shit crazy in despair. ***1/2
And then there was Lost, and the Jack, Sawyer, and Kate habitrails--aquarium, primate house, locker room.
I love that people on the boards have started calling the Others' leader Benry.
And what did they do to Kate that she needs antiseptic and looks like she's about to have a break-down in front of Sawyer?
And wasn't the Jack flash-back kind of Dullsville and useless? Yes, he and his wife got divorced, which we already knew must have happened; we still don't know why. Okay, maybe he's the reason his father went back to the bottle after that 50-day sobriety, and maybe that's why Christian was practicing medicine under the influence, and went to Sydney, and died. I still don't think we needed a whole episode for this back story to be told. I hope next week's is more satisfying.
Tonight: Jesus Camp, 7pm, Kendall Cinema, Cambridge, MA ... Because morbid curiosity drives me to free screenings of movies about religious zealots. The WASPs have determined that the best way to fight Middle Eastern religious zeal and the godless ways of the modern age is with their own brand of religious zeal. Fabulous. I can't wait to watch the freaks in action. You know I'll have tons to write about after the fact.
05 October 2006
life is not the sum of its parts
04 October 2006
when you think as I do
Malcolm McDowell and David Warner have similar voices. Well, if they try, they have similar voices: sneering, British, "I'm-smarter-than-you" voices. And, really, either one of them makes for a decent villain.
Time After Time - Jack the Ripper (David Warner) is back to continue his ghastly reign of terror; this time, he's found his way to the late 1970s, intent on taking care of unfinished business. H.G. Wells (Malcolm McDowell) uses a time machine to pursue Jack into the future, where he meets Amy (Mary Steenburgen), a bank clerk who teaches Wells about life in the '70s while helping him hunt for Jack.
At the beginning of watching this, I'd forgotten who was going to be who; and the film opens on the Ripper murdering some prostitute (you know, like he does), but never showing his face. We do, however, hear his voice--which I mistakenly believed was McDowell, for all of three minutes until the scene changed to Wells' sitting room where other actors were clearly addressing McDowell as Herbert. Then Warner enters and everyone is calling him Stevenson (and I thought for a moment that they were going to have him be Robert Louis Stevenson so they could pull in the whole Jekyll and Hyde thing to have that be the reason why he's a crazy murderer--even though Wells and Stevenson weren't really contemporaries, since Stevenson was a Scottish Neoromantic and Wells was a younger London sci-fi man--but, anyway, no, his name is John "Jack the Ripper" Stevenson and there's no connection like that at all).
The movie is fun and weird and strangely frank about things you might not expect them to be as frank about with a PG rating. And poor H.G. has ideas about society being some kind of utopia in 1979 (hopes which are mercilessly dashed within a few moments of his arrival in, yes, his time machine).
I forget about the things people did and didn't have in 1979 (wasn't there, was I?)--the non-biodegradable McDonald's containers (yes, Wells visits McDeath), electric tooth-brushes, etc. What they most certainly didn't have was CGI technology. The special effects are typical to the time right before the entrance of CGI, but the cameras are better, so things even out. It's not all the greatest, but we suspend our disbelief, and it works itself out.
Strangely enough, even with the memory of "Alex" in my mind, Malcolm is adorable when he's so hapless and helpless; it's not a faithful portrayal of H.G. Wells, per se, but it's a portrayal that fits the story extremely well. He's a good actor and it's a pity he was type-cast to the villain, though I'm sure it's paid the bills all around. The DVD has a few special features--the writer/director and McDowell comment on the film, and there's a text section entitled "It's About Time" that runs through a fairly good list of the time-travel genre from books to movies.
The message? Screw time paradox and the importance of not tampering with the time-line. Also, screw that useless career. If you fall in love with a time-traveling sci-fi author, just go with it--and him/her back to his/her time, regardless of your inability to deal with the very real social aspects of this situation or the possible diseases with which your body won't be able to deal without the benefits of modern medicine. This is romantic sci-fi, after all, not reality (see: Kate & Leopold). ***1/2
I'm expecting The United States of Leland and the first disc of Angel Season Five today. But more than that!
All new tonight at 9, only on ABC:
Lost - "A Tale of Two Cities" - In the third-season opener, Jack, Kate and Sawyer begin to discover what they are up against as prisoners of the Others. Christian Shephard: John Terry. Sarah: Julie Bowen. Mr. Friendly: M.C. Gainey. Ethan: William Mapother. Goodwin: Brett Cullen.
I love that Jack's father and Ethan keep showing up, in spite of their being quite dead since Season One.
03 October 2006
if we're going to be damned ...
Three school shootings in the span of a week? methinks the U.S. government needs to stop worrying about spreading freedom and democracy, and start worrying about our own damned selves. Clearly there's something wrong with our system. Just LOOK!
But now, on to the movies ...
The Road to Wellville - Based on T. Coraghessan Boyle's best-selling novel satirizing late-19th century health fads. Will and Eleanor Lightbody (Matthew Broderick and Bridget Fonda), guests at cereal mogul Dr. John Harvey Kellogg's (Anthony Hopkins) health spa, are forced to undergo an array of hilariously absurd medical treatments. Meanwhile, a con artist (John Cusack) and Kellogg's adopted son (Dana Carvey) plot to steal the doctor's coveted corn flake recipe.
My favorite character? Definitely George (Dana Carvey). He's so mindlessly angry with his father (well, not entirely mindless--Dr. Kellogg was overly religious, fanatically asexual, and obsessed with vegetarianism; so there's a reason to the madness one might feel about having such a man for one's father, adopted or otherwise). Throughout the film there are a series of flashbacks to Dr. Kellogg's interaction with his children--George, in particular. And I love the jacket-on-the-hook scene.
George won't hang up his jacket when he enters the house, just drops it on the floor; so, as punishment, Dr. Kellogg has him repeat the action over and over again. Only George won't stop. And he does the action throughout the night, keeping everyone awake by slamming the door and thumping up and down the stairs again and again and again. Finally, Dr. Kellogg stops him forcibly, slaps him across the face, apologizes profusely for having done so, and bewilderedly pleads that the boy just go to bed. So George walks around him, dumps his coat on the floor, and goes to bed. It's GREAT. The message(s)? If you thought modern vegetarians were bonkers, you haven't heard of Dr. John Harvey Kellogg. Also, if your desire is to alleviate the suffering of other creatures, fine; but everyone dies of something, and being a vegetarian won't save you from that. ***1/2
La Reine Margot (Queen Margot) - To cement a partnership between Protestants and Catholics in France, Margot de Valois (Isabelle Adjani) agrees to an arranged marriage to Henri of Navarre (Daniel Auteuil). Although she's a staunch supporter of Henri, she's not a loyal wife and takes up with a Protestant lover (Vincent Perez). During the St. Bartholomew's Night Massacre, she helps her lover escape, setting off a chain of events that alters their lives and the course of history.
I don't know if there's a lot of basis in reality, but French period pieces are chockobox full of freaky sexual relations. The Queen Mother Catherine (Virna Lisi) seems to have the hots for Anjou (Pascal Greggory), and Margot has apparently lost her virginity to one of her other brothers; but Margot prefers the company of this other guy from the court who she's trying to bang when her new husband walks in (because he's decided he won't be banging this other baroness on his wedding night). But then Margot kicks him out and goes walking the streets with her friend (in masks) to look for somebody else to bang--and finds Vincent Perez.
Vincent's character, by the way, already thinks that Margot is a filthy Catholic whore and has no idea that it's her he's having fun with. Sexy; but, of course, it doesn't end well. Incest, royal insanity, religious warring that would do the modern Middle East proud, and pretty impressive costumes and sets to watch throughout the whole business. Oh, yeah. And when they say Massacre, they mean it. They killed all the Protestant wedding guests. ALL of them. Except for Vincent's character. Message? Royals are crazy. Also, isn't it good that Christians have gotten over self-hatred in their unifying hatred of ... oh, everybody else? ****
Swept from the Sea - Shunned by her seaside farming community, servant girl Amy Foster (Rachel Weisz) reciprocates with silence and is thus branded a halfwit. She finds a kindred spirit, though, when shipwrecked Ukrainian Yanko Gooral (Vincent Perez) ambles onto her master's farm. While the rest of the townsfolk spurn the disheveled stranger, Amy gently cares for him, giving rise to romance, marriage and a child ... but tragedy lies just around the corner.
Yes, Vincent Perez again--and he's not speaking a lot of English in this one either. For the whole movie, I'm wondering, Why is everyone so bitchy with Amy? She's not an halfwit, and one can't help but feel that other people would figure that out if they'd just give her the time of day. And then the BIG SECRET is let loose towards the end, and it's kind of an oh moment, but in a very old-fashioned and 19th-century reasoning way. I kind of felt like the end was plodding--courtship, struggle, courtship--Married! Baby! Aggh! There's lots of selectiveness about the portrayal of life and how much time the film should devote to certain aspects. I just feel like Amy and Yanko are never happy (because we don't get to see them being very happy for very long--though clearly they must've had at least nine months of happiness that we don't get to witness at all). Message? Talk to people, or they'll just think you're a dunce. Then again, there's also that other saying--it's better to keep your mouth shut and be thought an idiot than to open your mouth and prove it. ***
I got the Q Collective in the mail yesterday. He (Q) is so right on so many levels. The only reason Jean-Luc can prove him wrong on these occasions is the deus ex machina--the Enterprise crew has to prove him wrong, or there's no story after that. Real mankind? Real mankind sucks balls.
08 September 2006
ganking DVDs
I had nothing new to watch last night, so I opened the two Blockbuster DVDs that Chris still had sent to our apartment after he moved out.
Either way, we'd have had to open them in order to return them to Blockbuster, so opening and watching seemed to make as much sense as not. It was rather like a grab bag, since I had no idea what would be in them. So what was there? Poseidon and Akeelah and the Bee.
Poseidon: Battling the elements once again, Wolfgang Petersen (The Perfect Storm) re-creates Ronald Neame's 1972 action classic with help from an ensemble cast that includes Kurt Russell, Richard Dreyfuss, Josh Lucas, Emmy Rossum and Stacy Ferguson (aka "Fergie" of The Black Eyed Peas). A tidal wave spells disaster for a boatload of New Year's Eve revelers when it capsizes the mammoth vessel, pitching the passengers into a desperate battle for survival.
Yeah, I was not impressed. The characters are pretty two-dimensional, and I wasn't drawn to feel anything for any of them--not even the cute little kid who nearly drowns. Mostly I just sat back thinking that "rogue waves" were the dumbest idea of any disaster movie ever. There are so many real elements of disaster to deal with--Why make one up? Message: If the common laws of Earth science go kaplooie, you're probably screwed--especially if you're an asshole who makes lame jokes, or you're in a racial minority. **
Akeelah and the Bee: With an aptitude for words, 11-year-old Akeelah Anderson (Keke Palmer) is determined to spell her way out of South Los Angeles, entering scores of local contests and eventually landing a chance to win the Scripps National Spelling Bee in Washington, D.C. Despite discouragement from her mother (Angela Bassett), Akeelah gets support from her bookish tutor (Laurence Fishburne), her principal (Curtis Armstrong) and proud members of her community.
I enjoyed it, but then I always did enjoy movies about intelligent kids--Little Man Tate, Searching for Bobby Fischer, and so on. The plot is predictable, but the drama is good and the neighbors and family interaction make it interesting. Message: Laurence Fishburne is still Morpheus, even when he's not Morpheus. ****
Then, I spiced some mead, took a shower, and fell asleep watching Mononoke-hime.
07 September 2006
a chocolate biscuit--covered in bees
Eddie Izzard update!
'Low Life', the drama series that Eddie has been working on for the last eighteen months was given the green light yesterday. FX channel have commissioned thirteen episodes which will air in the US late 2007. Eddie is absolutely thrilled.
"It's the part I have been waiting for all my life" says he.
Lots of love,
-- The BeeKeepers
I'm so happy for him ... and I know we don't have FX at our apartment, but if he gets 13 episodes, at least they'll eventually end up on DVD.
an ogre, a secret, and a game
Somehow England is soon ridding itself of Tony, but we still can't dethrone King George? Why not?
Last night, I watched: The Ogre, Mr Rice's Secret, and Nemesis Game. These are the bare-bones reviews.
The Ogre: The outbreak of World War II helps a French simpleton named Abel (John Malkovich) -- who was wrongfully accused of attacking a young girl -- avoid prison time. But when his army unit gets captured, he's imprisoned in a Nazi camp. The film unravels into a dark fairy tale in which Abel is groomed to train Hitler youth under the direction of der Führer's right-hand man, Hermann Goering (Volker Spengler).
It's sad, because, in the end, Abel wants to save the children in his charge (because their other teachers have gone off and died); but they're brainwashed little Nazi shit-heels who try to kill him for his effort. Message: Children suck. And destiny is not on your side. ***
Mr Rice's Secret: A terminally ill boy, Owen (Bill Switzer), discovers a sealed envelope addressed to him from Mr. Rice (David Bowie). Owen soon discovers that Mr. Rice has left him a medieval code ring, a treasure map and a series of clues -- clues that will lead him on a surreal treasure hunt and one step closer to his destiny ... which may save his life.
The premise is good, and David Bowie is surprisingly good in his relatively minor role, though I'm more often than not reminded of The Hunger and a little bit Labyrinth. However, it's low budget; and there's only so much you can do with the fantasy genre when you have no money. Message: Accept that you'll die one day, live in the now, and you'll be happy. And my parents are obviously incredibly lenient--kids in this movie are getting belted or threatened with being belted every ten minutes. Yes, terminally ill boy, you're weak and fragile, but you've misbehaved, so pull down your pants ... ? ***
Nemesis Game: Mystery-thriller about a shy college student, Sara (Carly Pope--from Popular), and her friend, Vern (Adrian Paul, doing his best to hide his accent), who spend their time solving mental games and riddles for fun. But when everyone around her starts dying one by one, Sara begins to wonder whether she's part of someone else's game. Could her life be in danger, too?
Short answer: Yes. Rena Owen and Ian McShane also star in this. Owen is a crazy woman who's seen "the great design" and become a murderess and McShane is Pope's policeman father. Everyone is conveniently tangled into the Toronto-set plot.
I suspected the ending would be a cop-out, and it sort of is. But it couldn't be otherwise; because if it weren't a cop-out, then it would've been a really good movie (not direct-to-video schtick). But between the believable craziness of Owen and my predisposition to enjoy watching Paul do anything, it was an enjoyable distraction. Message: You're better off not knowing the grand design of the universe; knowing will make you kill people for reasons known only to you. ***
06 September 2006
life on an easel
I morph a topic from Shelly into an allegory involving art.
I was thinking about Frankenstein on my walk to work this morning. I got to the point where I took the whole as the obvious allegory of the Big Guy and man between Frankenstein and his monster. Frank (Big Guy) creates something terrible, thinking it'll be great, and not recognizing its horrible characteristics until it's animated and too late (people). Monster is abandoned and behaves terribly (lack of divine influence and free will). Frank's surprised and horrified when monster is no better than its origins would suggest it should be, and decides he needs to get rid of it (the Flood?). It goes about trying to destroy Frank and all his ties (nihilism, atheism).
Why do I think of overreaching metaphors when I'm walking to work? Boredom mainly.
But it made me think of the monster as a piece of art, a failed piece of art--something you'd want to scrap. And perhaps human beings are pieces of art--of a kind. If you're a crap piece of art, you get thrown in a bonfire. And if you're a brilliant piece of art, they'd stick you in a museum with other brilliant pieces of art [of your type]. If you're something in between they might stick you in the basement of the museum for repairs and touch-ups. But the cases of the bonfire versus the museum is obviously after-life. Until then, you're still the misshapen ball of clay or the unfinished work on the easel.
This is okay--but what does the artist want from his art (if anything)? What can a painting possibly give the painter? A painter doesn't require the adoration of its painting. It's there to be pretty, to be amusing. Failing that, it's no good. So if a painting is harmless, but boring, isn't it a failure? Won't it go on the bonfire? Similarly, if I have an amazing painting portraying something that many people find distasteful (CBT, BDSM, snuff, etc.), isn't that worth more than the poster of a "Who me?" kitten? Isn't it more interesting? And isn't it more successful as a piece of art? Won't it end up in the museum in spite of its graphic nature and questionable content? It might not sit next to a Rembrandt, but it'll certainly have a room for it and its ilk.
Put the relative success of artwork aside.
Leave the museum and all the individual pieces of art that may or may not deserve to end up in a shredder. And ask if the painter needs to keep any of them. This is not a symbiotic relationship, and he doesn't need anything in that museum.
--------------------
I say upsetting things. I'm sorry if I'm offensive. I only ask these things with half the impertinence my mother would probably imagine is in them. The other half of me is deadly serious, really wants a good explanation for the sham that I see in religion.
Why would anything omnipotent need us to like it? Worship it? Recognize that it exists? WHY? And, returning to Frankenstein, why create something that is inherently flawed and then punish or destroy it for being flawed? Why create it at all?
I remember saying "Jesus Christ" in an exclamation when I was in middle school or so. My mother slapped me across the face for it. And now I think, if it were as bad as all that, then surely a slap isn't nearly enough punishment. And if I'm right, and it doesn't actually matter to anyone or anything, then she shouldn't have slapped me at all. Right?
17 January 2006
Work House Rock
You must have tea and cake with the vicar or--you die!
This is apparently what we need in order to teach people how to write, now that they're out of college and in the real world.
There were plenty of fun songs from Schoolhouse Rock, most of which you've probably forgotten (and feel you are no less for forgetting).
But today, I have a grammatical lesson to share--prompted by a coworker's frustration and a friend's ignorance.
My coworker could not quite understand why Outlook was giving her a "fragment" error for one of her sentences in an e-mail; and I had not intended to say anything, but she started to get antsy about it, so I decided to explain.
To "follow up" something requires no hyphenation; however a "follow-up" of something does. The difference here is verb usage versus noun usage, respectively. I'm sure it will make sense if you think about it long enough ... (though a few short seconds should be plenty for most, and some will understand immediately).
Therefore, if you would like a follow-up [noun], then that's fine; but if you would like to follow up [verb], that's something else.
Here is another example of verb usage, courtesy of my flat-mate: I will follow up with your professor about your project.
Thanks.
My coworker said that she never understood grammar lessons in elementary school. I told her that this was hardly irregular. The only way anyone ever really understands grammar is through constant use (writing and/or reading), so if you're not much of a writer or a reader, it's not going to come easy. Basics might come to you, yes; anything beyond that, not likely. Learning a foreign language also makes you more aware of parts of speech, but I didn't go into that.
And this point of view could be argued against, I understand; but I still feel that those who read and write more than the average are more likely to understand these things (including the inherent importance of proper spelling and correct grammar). If you want to be understood in the world, you had better learn to communicate.
Yes, this is one of my pet peeves towards a majority of science-minded individuals who try to bash me for having an English B.A. Of course, this resentment is not directed at scientists who can write, but those who think they don't need to know how.
Match Point, etc.
Fittingly (or not, I don't know), I went out to the movies on the night of the Golden Globes ... to see Match Point.
Happily, this is not a tennis movie. All the plot summaries I found online set it up to seem like tennis was a big part of the film. And, metaphorically, I suppose it is; but it's primarily a backdrop and a motif for other things that are happening, rather than a major part of the film (it's not Wimbledon is what I'm trying to say--and while that is a good movie, it's not what I was looking for this time).
It's a fairly grim plot with some absolutely brilliant dialog, and for my limited experience with Woody Allen (The Front, remember?), this did not surprise me. For others more acquainted with his comedy (I am not one of those), it might go over badly. But I loved it. It's grim and gritty and beautiful.
And yes, it helps that Jonathan Rhys Meyers is in every scene. Some reviews I've read have described his character as being less emotional than he should be. I think he's just right; he's sick, torn, brutal, guilty, and falling apart. And it's just fantastic.
And for reasons that would be more evident if you've seen the film, this got my mind going on the issue of legitimacy--especially in regards to Shakespearean villain, Edmund. I think it would be wonderful to write and/or read an adaptation of the Edgar/Edmund/Gloucester relationship in a modern or alternate universe context and see what could be done with it. With or without the connection to Lear, I don't care; but I think Edmund is interesting enough without pulling in the main plot of King Lear.
... I know, I know. One project at a time, right?
Yesterday I also went to CVS (for pre-show goodies, which are cheaper than in-house goodies), and they had a BOGO on any Coke product with Diet Black Cherry Vanilla Coke as the free-b. The flavour reminded me of a rum-n-coke, to be honest; and I'm still debating whether that's good or bad ...
Other reflections I keep having: I don't often wear my contacts, once or twice a week, which is not nearly as often as I should. Every time I do wear them, however, I find myself staring at things. And I think this is what gaining "vampiric sight" would feel like (if such a thing actually existed, mind you)--suddenly seeing things that you never see otherwise. A little squirrel running across a power-line; sitting on the T, watching people sitting inside their apartments through un-curtained windows; every twig and branch of a tree on Beacon St. in sharp relief against the sky; or tiny separate pin-points of Christmas lights that usually seem like a continuous bright white blur. And it makes me think I ought to wear my contacts more often--except for this awful habit of staring at everything with near-foolish wonderment when I do.
07 January 2006
New Zealand "kidult" programming
So there's a new show out of New Zealand called Maddigan's Quest (formerly Maddigan's Fantasia), which I heard about in my IMDb.com travels because Michael Hurst is involved (he's Maska, the scary machine-man pictured right with the scarred-forever-and-ever baby).
I appreciate the fact that there is a definitive beginning and end for this show. It's 13 half-hour episodes, and that's it. So it's really a very long mini-series, rather than something aimless that could quit at any time; and I like a show that has a specific destination in mind (we know how many aimless shows exist).
There's no US carrier for it yet, but I could see it going to either Sci-Fi (as one of those early morning things that nobody watches) or a late afternoon Fox/WB/UPN slot for kids coming home from school or something. The trailer for it is great, though. I hope SOMEBODY picks it up (though, the fact that it's not a continuing franchise is probably not in its favor since most networks seek something that might have a run of a few seasons).
Oh, and there's an official website for the trailer and show info: www.maddigansquest.com
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