Given the high value placed on uniformity of critical opinion, you may have been saturated with negative opinions of Larry and Andy Wachowski's SPEED RACER by now (my take: it's worth at least a bargain matinee ticket and nowhere near as awful as you're being led to believe).
The Wachowskis and producer Joel Silver are unlikely to receive a parole from their ongoing season in Hell for not giving audiences a Neo-fighting-the-good-fight-in-the-Real-World storyline in the two sequels to THE MATRIX. But the promise of THE MATRIX's close becomes an integral part of the plot in SPEED RACER--Speed and family resist the appeals of the evil corporate head who, when rebuffed, gives an angry speech about how races are fixed and it's better to accept that fact and play ball (resembling a similar speech in David Mamet's REDBELT).
Here's where the similarity of SPEED RACER and Los Angeles poetry comes in:
At a certain point in SPEED RACER, Speed has to make a decision as to whether or not to race for the love of racing--instead of just "winning" and gaining all the temporary attention and rewards attached.
I feel like I have to make the same decision with regards to writing and reading poetry in the city of Los Angeles.
Here's a quote from a wise female poet named Mary McIntyre:
"Tell you what I've seen as problem with poetry in this town ever since I arrived--everybody's too busy either obligingly congratulating each other or anxiously awaiting what could be their 'big' moment."
Now that the local scene is shapeshifting towards near-exclusive congratulating and rewarding what was once described in a long-ago L.A. WEEKLY article on poetry as "poets in academia writing for each other", Mary's words above still ring true.
And, perhaps, more than they did when she first wrote them on a local poetry listserve.
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