White Rock

Dear Monsieur-Madame, may I say what a pleasure it is to be entertained and educated by votre stylo primé, canadienne; and may I further compliment you on the cryptic elegance that is at the very core of your form, so that I might see within each star with which you dot a skybound sentence an entire constellation of rhetorical possibilities – O Heavenly Hosts! Consider your opening thrust – did Avon's Bard offer Brutus words more compelling when he let that Roman statesman ask of the common citizenry "Who among you so rude that would not be a Roman; if any, speak for him have I offended!"? Have you not matched, if not transcended, the greatness of Elizabeth's playwright in your first parry, your first thrust of a single pithy and parallel sentence, telling your audience that a failure to love this movie is nothing short of contempt for hockey and, therefore, a contempt for this great nation? Blood rushed to my loins when I read these words. Nor was I to be left unsated in the lust for language that you had given birth to in the womb of this very page, for with what aesthetic delight did I read of the chills that you experienced while watching this film, resonating with the possibilities that are suggested in your metaphor. May I ask in all humility: does it not imply that you, yourself, felt that you were on the ice with those puck-masters, and was it not indeed the masterful script of our nation's great Jay Barushel that took you there! But here, you have only whet our appetites for more and so we lick our literary lips in anticipation of your gambit proxime, whereat, not willing to leave us disappointed, you cast forth a visual panorama (how may I ask, was this even possible in so few words) Could it be more splendid, for may I say that I have seen you "half out of your seat with excitement" simply by reading what you wrote; and this provoked me, even further, to recognize with what masterful acrobatic dexterity you kept yourself from falling to the floor, a talent not always shown by the most enthusiastic of viewers in cinematic parlors. What a spectacle you must have been in your row: screaming, covering your eyes, gasping, laughing, balancing precipitously upon those low-quality chairs that are an insult to every moviegoer in this nation. A very performance in itself! For I am quite sure that, had I been in the theater, I would have been torn between watching you and watching the film itself! And what better way to announce its status as a work of art than to lay claim to the notion that it TRANSCENDS the formalism of cinema, projecting itself into the post-formalist world of Sheet-Harbour-sculptor, Fergus Long and the neo-Derridean lyricism of Musquodobit Harbour's poet Laureate, Peggy Myers within the realm of politics writ large. Finally, with what succinctness and alacrity you lay out its contents: cursing, violence, and gore are set before us like an Acadian dinnerplate (les legumes, les patates, le poulet)! Of course, in the fuill knowledge, I read this between your lines, that all these are but allegories for the dynamics of provincial relationships and the transformations that have taken place in cultur canadienne. And, if I may be so bold as to presume that I can stand as the authority with respect to your greatest insight, is it not your recognition that this is indeed, NOT FOR CHILDREN, a fact you clearly recognized through your use of capitals in referencing this caution. Are we not in agreement, then, that only a MATURE mind is capable of experiencing the cinema vérité, as it has been set before us, which is usually the case for Canadian films, that they are sophisticated in a way les americaines can never fathom.. Well, then, I say this to you, my good sir-madam, for it happens that a certain, long-winded, and, may I say, bombastic adolescent with a proclivity toward excess in language and opinion – monsieur-madame, I say to you it happens to be the case that such a little cretin has taken it upon himself to SLANDER this film and all things canadienne in doing so, using as his plume de guerre, his stylo de guerre for those who have no sense of French letters, a purposefully extended diatribe that offers no seasoned and mature judgment with respect to the quality of this great moment in Canadian cinematic history. And, therefore, for the sake of this great nation, and for the sake of high literary culture, I myself have attempted to interject on behalf of all Canadian moviegoers with a complex cinematic palate that is able to taste both the « oak and the fruit », if you will have it, in a production, au canadienne. Here is a youngster full of contempt, this young Herringbone of whom I spoeak, full of contempt for this nation, for its literary and cinematic leaders, and for hockey. Would it be possible, Monsieur-Madame, would it exist as possibilite for YOU to locate the outrageous review of this young man and then dress him down smartly, reminding him that it was YOUR review that was judged most worthy – not only as the true arbitration of this film, but as the proper representation for belles lettres sur le front canadien. Certainly, if you should do so, you would have the gratitude and respect of the finest cinematic and literary minds in our nation. Again I say to you that the upstart’s name is Herringbone; the rogue is Herringbone. Find his review not far from yours, and dress it down to the level that it deserves! Remind him, smartly, that it was YOUR review that one le premier prix! Slap him in the face with your own award-winning letters! And, further may I say in doing so, let us show this cretin, this curmudgeon, this prattler, indeed rattler of the alphabet how French-Canadians and Anglos can combine their pens in their love of hockey and their love of Canadian cinema to throw down a usurper who would rob our Canada Council heroes of their rightful places in the minds and hearts of the Canadian people! Join your pen to my own, monsieur-madame, and let us bring an end to the bombastic ignorance of this enfant terrible in the world of cinema criticism. I await your reply and I am most truly yours, Jean Claude Comme-ca.
jeanclaudecommeca - 11.3.2012 - age: 36-49