How cool is this?

Saw Garden State over the weekend, a movie whose soundtrack has been rightly celebrated for its use of everyone from Iron and Wine (doing a Postal Service cover) and Simon and Garfunkel to The Shins. Unfortunately, the movie itself is nowhere the equal of its soundtrack. At first the small romantic comedy starring writer-director Zach Braff of Scrubs fame and Natalie Portman seems merely like a slight precious indy-style vanity project for Braff. Then it shortly becomes clear this is no indy, for-the-love-of-it vanity project, but an old-fashioned sucky vanity project for an actor whose writing and directing would never have merited a shooting budget or a distribution deal were he a mere mortal. Along with serious actors at his disposal (the legendary Ian Holme in a completely muted performance as Braff’s father, the fine Peter Saarsard irritatingly miscast as a small town loser), Braff has any number of serious themes to work with: the medicalization of character, serious illness, a family torn apart by a tragic accident. The result is an overcooked stew that tastes like nothing despite so many expensive, choice ingredients. The script is painfully weak, the story a thin draft of undeveloped themes and tossed-off characters and barely considered sources of conflict. This guys has no idea what he’s talking about, I said to myself any number of times. I went in with optimism, thinking maybe this sharp comic actor had a deep side I could root for. I left irritated at the injustice of this movie being made in the first place.

Same weekend I caught a real indy flick, made with all the guts and ingenuity and heart that has made that whole little world romantic and compelling since Stephen Soderbergh’s Sex, Lies, and Videotape. Open Water, the much discussed little film about a couple on vacation, who while deep-sea diving are left behind by their boat, was every bit as good as its billing. Writer-director Chris Kentis takes a simple premise and freaks you out with it. Simple characters, simple setup, and whooa.

You want it. You crave it. You need it. Mike Russell’s latest is up, as he journeys to a Duran Duran concert with his 15-year-old stepdaughter.

Remember when I asked what the next anti-Pope arguments would be? Galley Friend C.L. is on the case:

The next bit of counterintuitive cleverness regarding the Pope will be that JPII actually prolonged the life of communism in Eastern Europe and the Soviet Union. Only 5% of Poles were in Glasnost; he gave the other 95% a fixed point to rally against; only with the rise of moderate forces within the Soviet Union (read: Gorbachaev) was compromise possible; here are some quotes from former communist flunkies; QED. Watch for it.

Quick, get Kinsley on line one!

The fight over Terri Schiavo is one of those cultural conflicts that I simply cannot understand. It is difficult to understand how anyone who has read the detailed facts of the case could be in favor of killing her. On this score, read Fr. Robert Johansen and Wesley Smith.

There simply aren’t two sides to this story. So why the culture clash? Because at a high-level of abstraction, the Schiavo case is a useful battleground for euthanasia advocates and leftists who automatically oppose any position the Christian right rallies around. I often wonder if pro-lifers inadvertently did Terri harm by coming to her defense. If not for their support, the left might have let her be.

And what about the media? The media is simply not designed to confront judicial incompetence. If a judge makes a ruling–no matter how absurd–the media treat it as a valid side of an argument. Had Michael Schiavo not drawn a judge unfit for the bench either by intellect, ideology, or temperament, then, too, this fight could have been avoided.

On almost all matters of public import, informed people of good faith can disagree. What has happened to Terri Schiavo is the exception to that rule.

My man Billy Cerveny has a great little diary on the pretentiousness of musical influences and on his own, sordid sources of inspiration.

How did everyone do yesterday? I went 14-2 (I also called the play-in game correctly), missing the LSU implosion and underestimating Nevada.

Mind you, I’m not bragging. Today could be a bloodbath for me. Looking at my bracket this morning I’m wondering why in the world I have NC State and Old Dominion. Also, I have Villanova going to the round of 16, despite the fact that they could get beat by a very strong New Mexico team. Oh, and Georgia Tech in the Final Four–what was I thinking?

Just some random thoughts from the best four days of the year.

* Andrew Bogut is as enjoyable to watch as any college player since Kenny Anderson. He has spectacular court vision and passes like Larry Bird. His game reminds me of a young Arvidis Sabonis. Enjoy him while Utah’s still dancing.

* Is it me, or does Gonzaga’s Adam Morrison look like Dan Dickau on HGH? Has anyone seen them in a room at the same time?

* Pittsnogle is one of the five best names in the history of sports. The announcers clearly agree–you can hear them smiling whenever they call his number.

* One of the smaller joys of the NCAA tournament is getting to hear the non-marquee announcers. Gus Johnson is my favorite. There’s no better play-by-play man in the country. I’ve never understood why CBS doesn’t make better use of him.

You also get to hear obscure color commentators, too. Bill Rafferty (“And there it is the little . . . dipsy-do the . . . five-and-dimer”) is my personal favorite, though I miss Al Maguire more every year.

* Memo to Seth Stevenson: While your stellar work on Sabine Ehrenfeld was much appreciated in Galley World, there’s a more to be done. Who is the Diet Coke Roller Girl? Get on it–America needs you.

* What’s the over-under on when a #16 finally beats a #1? I would argue that with the flight of young players to the NBA and the increased reliance on the three-pointer, #16s have never had a better chance. And it’s going to happen sooner or later. I’d be surprised if it doesn’t happen in the next seven years.