Anthony Hopkins is an Academy Award winner. Benicio Del Toro is an Academy Award winner. Emily Blunt is a Golden Globe winner. Hugo Weaving is an AFI Award winner. Director Joe Johnson is an Academy Award winner.

When they were brought together to make The Wolfman, given the technology today, it should have been one great remake.

Somehow the story was devoured. Put in place was a lot of shock value. Hey, here’s a really fast werewolf. Ooh, captivating. A damsel in distress.  Holy cow crap, Batman!  How about some gruesome murders. Ah, can’t call it a remake without reusing blood gushing murders. How unexpected. Needed? Yes. But it wasn’t done creatively. It’s one thing to be predictable. It’s another thing to know what’ll happen at the beginning of the movie.

The special effects were not over used.  A positive.

Netflix. Man do I love Neflix. Want to get rid of your cable bill? Get Netflix. It has TV shows, movies, DVDs, Bluray, and a lot of the content can be streamed online.

As I was browsing, I’d run across Dexter. The hero is a serial killer who kills serial killers.  And he’s likable.  You’ll find yourself rooting for him. I haven’t read the novel it’s based on, but once I watched the first show, I was hooked. I don’t like horror much but watch it on occasion.

One thing Dexter has very little of is shock value. But the tension and conflict is high in each episode. And it’s not predictable. For the most part anyway. The episodic stories and the overall story of Dex was amazing. There were story lines that ran the length of the season, and, more importantly, story lines that ran the length of each episode. Amazingly, it all coalesced together nicely, fitting together like puzzle pieces.

Each character is wondefully flushed out. Each one has their own goals, strengths, and issues. The backstory for each character is spread over each episode, and the season. And the growth, or deterioation, was well done.

Then, when I found out the first season was based on the book, Darkly Dreaming Dexter by Jeff Lindsay, I was ecstatic.  Somehow, within me, I was hoping it was based on the book.  The storyline just worked so well for me.  Every plot element circled on itself, playing an essential part to the story.  Shouldn’t that be the case?  Or else why not just eliminate it since it doesn’t serve the story or plot?

But The Wolfman was missing the essential element of story.  And the plot, though obvious, tried to circle back, but it just wasn’t done well.  I wasn’t rooting for any of the characters, nor did I care for any of them.  In fact, if the damsel was the werewolf who caused the initial murders, it might have been a better movie.

Maybe Dexter should go after the Wolfman.

Netflix.  It’s totally revolutionizing how people rent movies.  And it’s economical.  But this post isn’t about that.  It’s about The Road to Stripped.

Netflix offers a free two-week trial, and I thought I’d explore that.  Moving into my own place requires that I explore entertainment choices other than paying for cable.  And what was the first movie I watched?

Stripped

Jill Morley made a documentary about the lives of strippers, being one herself.  She’s not anymore but you can check her out at www.jillmorley.com.  Her new documentary Fighting It, follows the lives of five female fighters.  That should be interesting.

So you may be asking why I chose to watch Stripped. I’d like to say that I was doing some research for a new book or character.

No.

Plainly, I wanted to watch something naughty.

Then why didn’t I go to the millions of sites that hosts saltier types of media.  Been there, done that.  I also have a soft spot for strippers.  During my acting days in the city, I’d come to know and befriend a few strippers who took acting classes who wanted to break into mainstream entertainment.  And I became close to one in particular.

In talking to them, their perspective on men, strip clubs, work, children, and life is echoed in Stripped.  And unlike watching saltier types of videos, I didn’t find myself fast forwarding to the good parts.  The whole documentary was interesting.

But the thing that stuck out in my mind was how each stripper felt trapped.  The money they earned seemed to outweigh the toll it was taking on their soul.  Because it was the club owners who truly benefited from the clientele, the labor of these beautiful women, and the intense hard work, both emotionally and physically, they put in.

Aside from the tragic circumstances some of these women were in, what struck me was their view of men.  Everything a stereotypical male chauvinist pig represents is what their view of men is.  I saw how desolate they felt when talking about men.

And for some reason it reminded me of the book The Road.

No, the book didn’t contain any strippers.  Despite that essential element, wink wink, I loved the book.  The desolation described was incredible.  Incredible that I saw real images as I read.  Incredible that it’s one of the few books to affect me, to help me realize the abundance that I have, to remind me of the unending strength of the human soul, to show me what people could and would do when dignity is gone.

There was a scene in the book where a group of cannibals had chained about a dozen prisoners, and they were herding them back to their dwelling.  This coincided with a passage McCarthy wrote about cattle.  How we use cattle as beasts of burden, then slaughter them for food.  No one is ever shocked that we do this to cattle or any other animal.  But we’re totally shocked when we see people do this to other people.

Is there a difference?

Look at the owners of strip clubs.   Earning their meals on the labor of women.  Preying on men’s desire for sex.

Is there a difference?

Yeah, Jimmy.  Club owners aren’t eating these women.  Literally.

What about the soul?  Is that not as important?

I deeply explore the soul in my book.  I’ve thought about it a great deal.  I know I have one.  Art is an expression of the soul.  And because life mimics art, or art mimics life, I chose to make it important both in art and life.

In saying that, pieces of strippers’ souls are being taken away each night they dance.  Each lap dance they give, a part of their soul is lost.  Each dollar they earn, they give up a part of what makes them a human being.  This is what I felt when watching Stripped, or whenever I talked to my friend who worked in that industry, or when reading about the cannibals in The Road.

Now here’s a question for you.  When you work in your day job, as I do, do you feel a part of you is torn away?  At the end of the day, what is your life about?  At the end of your life was working all those extra hours worth it?

Or are you the fortunate few who’ve discovered your passions, your life’s purpose, and truthfully love what you do?