Working Dead Productions

Resolutions

2011-12-31T22:16:00.000-08:00

The first sign that it's been too long since I last posted is that I had to reset my password because I couldn't remember how to log into my account. The second sign was the 100+ spam comments on old blog posts, trying to sell Viagra or dating websites or whatever. Then, of course there's my previous post, which is helpfully dated in bold letters as having gone up in March. 9 months ago.

I can't say that it's been an especially busy year, although I have taken on a second job and I did spend a week and a half in California with my family, visiting a good friend and behaving like a tourist. The simple truth is that I was not motivated to write. Occasionally I would try to buckle down and come up with something to say, maybe even getting as far as writing down a page or so of notes. That never went any farther, though, and as the days became weeks became months, it just became easier and easier to stop trying. October was going to be my big comeback. I was going to take part in the Countdown to Halloween again, and I even began to list ideas for Halloween related posts. But then I got that second job, and knew I'd be out of state and mostly offline for much of the time leading up to the big day, and I opted out. And then, well, the momentum had been lost, and I didn't make much of an attempt after that.

Now comes a new year, and although I've never been one for resolutions, I've decided on a couple that I want to make this year. Last year I resolved to read nothing but nonfiction until the new year, and that was a pretty good experience, although now I have a stack of fiction books I can't wait to dive into once I finish Theodore Rex, Edmund Morris' second in his trilogy of Theodore Roosevelt biographies. This year my reading habits go back to normal, but my writing habits will hopefully become a bit more focused.

Resolution #1: Limit Internet usage to one hour a day. I've noticed that many of those studies about the Internet lowering attention span are correct, at least in my case. I've become much more of a multitasker, to the deficit of most of the projects I'm involved in. I spend too much time using stumbleupon to find new websites, and I spend too much time on facebook and flickchart and other websites that provide entertainment and information in bite sized chunks. Not that I'm an ADD-addled hyperactive chipmunk, but I find that spending time on these time-waster sites gives me a false sense of accomplishment when I haven't actually done anything. An hour a day limit is probably higher than I'll end up using, but will at least keep me from wasting the day. The hour limit won't apply to anything work-related, or any time spent posting to this blog.

Resolution #2: Spend at least 30 minutes each day writing. Not all of these writings will show up on this blog, and many of them will probably be stream of consciousness ramblings, or thoughts on the recent movies I've seen. The point isn't to keep the blog active, but to keep me active. Once again the time limit isn't set in stone, but I'm going to set aside at least a half hour every day to do nothing but write. TV off, iPod on, notepad out. Most likely you will see an increase in activity on this blog, but I'm not making it a priority as of now.

There are a few others that I'm leaving open ended. I'd like to learn HTML this year, and become a bit more proficient with the gadgets in my life. My technical proficiency is adequate, but I feel like I know what buttons to push to get things done, but I don't know why or how they work. But generally that's it. I'm keeping it simple, so hopefully I won't become overwhelmed and give up on these resolutions. If you're reading this, thanks for stopping by, and I hope to be here again soon.

My Movie Diary 3-6-11

2011-04-16T20:09:00.000-07:00

3-6-11

The Town(2010) A large part of what made Ben Affleck's directorial debut(Gone Baby Gone) such a pleasant surprise was it's low key tone and local Bostonian flavor. The film was set in a very specific place and community and it benefited from taking the time to explore it's corners. The Town, while still a technically adept and enjoyable film, loses that specificity and suffers for it. The film is well done, with fine performances by all(yes, even Affleck), and Affleck shows a natural talent behind the camera, but it's also incredibly straightforward. Another tale about a criminal with a heart of gold attempting one final job before he can go legit with the girl of his dreams. Pop quiz; how do you think that scenario will unfold? You probably won't be surprised.

The Seven Percent Solution(1976) The movie starts out a bit rough, with a seemingly miscast Robert Duvall as Watson. Nicol Williamson's performance as a heroin addicted Sherlock Holmes livens up this opening stretch. In the course of a single scene Williamson will run us through one of Sherlock's patented displays of his powers of observation, mounting gradually from a calm demeanor to frenzied, flop-sweat drenched, spittle spewing mania as the effects of heroin withdrawal become more pronounced. The film is essentially split into two halves, with the first devoted to a fairly serious portrayal of Holmes' attempts to kick his addiction with the aid of Watson and Sigmund Freud(Alan Arkin). The latter half morphs into a more swashbuckling detective story complete with sword fights atop speeding trains. Both halves are great, but Duvall tips the films hand too soon with his overacting, and it isn't until the second half that the movie catches up to him.

Road Games(1981) Stacy Keach plays a truck driver who, in his boredom, speculates on the lives of the random people he sees on the road. Eventually he begins to suspect an ominous van driver is actually a serial killer who's been crisscrossing the country preying on hitchhikers. Soon, the killer notices that he's been noticed, and the cat and mouse game begins. Keach is often hilarious as the truck driver who keeps a running conversation with himself in the tones of a particularly verbose playwright, and Jamie Lee Curtis matches him at every step as a hitchhiker who cheerfully joins in his suspicions. Essentially this film is Rear Window transplanted to the Australian highway system. Jamie Lee Curtis' hitchhiker is even referred to repeatedly as 'Hitch' in a direct nod to the great director.

My Movie Diary 2-26-11 to 3-5-11

2011-04-10T14:21:00.000-07:00

2-26-11

Area 51(2009) After Dark horror productions tend to be slick, low budget attempts at blockbuster genre exercises, and as a result their films are often more competent than your average direct to video horror flick. With that competence, though, comes a lack of willingness to do anything truly outrageous and an often overwhelming blandness. SyFy originals tend to be shiny, slapdash affairs that make no effort to appear professional, only to provide with cheesy entertainment. As a result their films are often looser and more energetic and bizarre, but also too knowingly cheesy. Area 51 combines the output of these two companies into a film that refines the best traits of both without overcoming their faults. The plot, about various aliens held at the famed Area 51 staging an escape, holds potential, but it's mainly developed as an excuse to have units of soldiers picked off by faintly Giger-esque aliens. What really shines, however, are the special effects, which are composed of actual alien costumes and props with CGI augmenting some of the action. This rare occurrence(especially for SyFy) made the film no less forgettable, but refreshingly enjoyable.

3-4-11

Catfish(2010) The best way ot see this movie is with little-to-no idea what it's about. I don't think it would be completely unenjoyable if you knew all the details going in, but the film builds to almost unbearable levels of tension at times, and knowing how everything plays out would most likely diminish that. That being said, what Catfish achieves, almost by accident, is something many documentaries are unable to do; the moving revelation of a distinctly human personality, and the realization that it is far more vast and unknowable than we might like to think. A lot of people have accused the filmmakers of staging the events seen on screen. Having read and seen interviews with the filmmakers and read articles about the claims in the film, I believe it to be mostly genuine. I don't discount the idea that the filmmakers may have manipulated the footage, and may not have been as innocent as they appear on screen, but I think the people and emotions on display are true.

3-5-11

Deathrace(2009) One good thing about the possibility of financial collapse is that reality television is about to get real awesome. This is a movie that defies any attempts at actually reviewing it, so let me just say that shit gets blowed up real good. And sometimes that's enough for a lazy weekend afternoon.

My Movie Diary 2-21 to 2-23-11

2011-03-26T18:41:00.000-07:00

2-21-11

Night of the Hunter(1955) A truly delightful film, despite the fact that it's actually quite menacing at times. Robert Mitchum plays a false priest who travels the country marrying widows and killing them. While in jail for stealing a car, he meets a man on death row for killing a guard during a bank robbery. Knowing the money was never found, and rightfully suspecting it was hidden somewhere on the man's property, Mitchum begins to romance his widow(Shelly Winters) and menace her two children. The film is at times comic, at times horrific, and features an odd, stilted, dreamlike quality even before the lengthy sequence where the children drift calmly down a river, watched over by nocturnal animals on the shore and followed always by Mitchum. Character actor Charles Laughton's only directorial effort utilizes archetypes and iconography in a more effective manner than most, from the Love and Hate tattoos on Mitchum's fingers to the exaggerated set design and use of shadows. A wonderfully expressionistic film, full of moments that will stick with me.

2-22-11

Machete(2010) Machete has enough gonzo moments for a dozen films, but also feels strangely lifeless. That's surprising for a movie with so much bloody violence and nudity. Robert Rodgriguez mimics the 70's sleaze and exploitation films he clearly loves, but brings none of the energy present in his earlier films to the table. It gets a lot of the details right - the smash cuts, the aggressive zooms, and of course the violence and nudity - and amplifies them to ridiculous heights, but the film lacks the vibrancy and energy of even some of the worst grindhouse films.

2-23-11

Great Expectations(1956) Commonly cited as the best Dickens adaptation, and for all I know it is. The film is a perfect distillation of the novel, keeping most of the main characters while spending only as much time with them as is necessary to keep the plot moving. The story, for those unfamiliar, concerns Pip, a young blacksmith's apprentice who finds himself the beneficiary of a large sum of money and the promise of property. His benefactor wishes to remain anonymous, but it's fairly likely that the mad Miss Havisham, locked away in her mouldering mansion, is behind it. Casting is fantastic, as Joe Gargery, Miss Havisham, Herbert Pocket and Estella are all exactly as you would imagine from reading the book, although I imagined Pip to be a bit more nebbishy than the film made him. Most of the alterations to the plot are merely omissions, as every full length novel contains too many plot points and characters to adequately squeeze into a 2 hour movie(let alone a book as filled to the brim as Great Expectations), although the film's ending swaps out Dickens' original ambiguously bittersweet finale for a more definite happy ending. Director David Lean does a great job crafting a cohesive film out of moments lifted directly from the novel, but ultimately it serves to remind you the book is still there, ready to be read again.

My Movie Diary

2011-03-22T21:42:00.000-07:00

2/17/11

Black Orpheus(1959) Adaptation of the Greek tale of Orpheus and Eurydice set during Carnaval in Rio. New to town, Eurydice stays with her cousin, who lives next to Orfeu, a young man engaged to be married. The two begin a romance, set against the constant festivities of Carnaval. The film follows the myth pretty closely, with Eurydice dying at the hands of a costumed man who follows he through most of the film, and Orfeu following Hermes to a religious service that promises to bring Eurydice back. The finale offers it's own take on the Maenads who tear Orpheus apart. The film gets a lot of mileage out of the locale(the wooden shacks in the hills above the city), the constant bossa nova rhythms, and the incredibly likable leads.

The Mummy(1959)The film is an official remake of the original Universal film, although in this film the mummy is an instrument of revenge for a third party, rather than a resurrected man trying to revive his lost love. There are several scenes in The Mummy that are particularly creepy, like the image of Christopher Lee in fully Mummy garb rising slowly from a moonlit bog, but for most of the film it looks like someone wrapped a wetsuit in brown plaster of paris. Hammer stalwart Terrence Fisher does his usual job of keeping things lively, even when we get to see the same flashback three separate times.

2-20-11

Topper(1937) I've always found Cary Grant to be a little... off. I can't quite put it into words, but he never seems quite right in any of the films I've seen him in. Sure, he has charisma, and he seems perfectly likable, but he never seems to relax into any of his roles. It's fortunate, then, that the heavy lifting in this film are prompted by Constance Bennet as his wife. Grant and Bennet play George and Marion Kerby who, following a fatal car crash, try to perform one good deed and get into heaven by enlivening Roland Young's suppressed banker. A perfectly charming film that spawned a slew of sequels and a television series.

The Producers(1968) Subtlety has never been one of Mel Brooks' strong suits, yet this would almost qualify as such when compared to his other films. Sure, Gene Wilder and Zero Mostel flail and shout constantly, but there are no puns to be found, and there's only one notable moment of breaking the fourth wall.

My Movie Diary

2011-03-20T15:32:00.000-07:00

2/13/11

Thunder Rock(1942) Michael Redgrave is a lighthouse keeper on Thunder Rock in Lake Wisconsin. A former war correspondent who has become fed up with the apathy and entropy of the outside world, he lives alone and doesn't even leave his post to cash his paychecks. For company he spends his evenings among the ghosts of immigrants who drowned on the lake 100 years earlier, although the movie mentions that these are constructs of his active imagination who have taken on their own life. Through the life stories of the (imaginary) ghosts, he comes to the conclusion that he's given up on life prematurely. The ending should feel sappy and treacly, but feels redemptive after the persistent grimness of the rest of the film. James Mason gets second billing despite appearing only briefly in the beginning of the film.

Husk(2011) Convoluted beyond belief, but let me try to sum it up: a loner, outcast farm boy kills his more popular brother and hides his body as a scarecrow. Now, many years later, his spirit possesses whoever wanders into his cornfield and turns them into other scarecrows. He uses these husks to terrorize future travellers, and the cycle continues. The good news? He can only possess one scarecrow at a time. The story's inner logic holds, I guess, but it's never explained WHY any of this is happening, or WHY the rules are there, or WHY one of the victims keeps having flashbacks to the killer's childhood. This last question is a particularly annoying plot point that was obviously put in place by a writer who couldn't come up with any other way to advance the story, and there is absolutely no payoff to it whatsoever.

The Threepenny Opera(1931) Highly entertaining adaptation of the Bertolt Brecht/Kurt Weill opera. Cuts out some of the songs, but of course keeps Ballad of Mack The Knife(along with other personal favorites Pirate Jenny and The Cannon Song). It's hard to imagine an American version of this highly cynical and bleakly funny tale. None of the characters are redeemable, least of all Mackie Messer, a pedophile, thief, arsonist, murderer, pimp and rapist. Or Peachum, or rules the many homeless beggars of England by extorting from them large fees for the right to beg. The ending of the film(and opera) give these, and other undeserving characters, a ridiculously happy ending while the true poor and unprivileged shuffle back into the shadows.

Please Stand By

2010-11-08T20:34:00.000-08:00

I currently have several blog posts in various states of completion, but I'm afraid there might be a not-very-brief interruption in service. Here's why:

Christmas came early, as I made a probably ill-advised purchase of Criterion's AK 100, a set of 25 Akira Kurosawa films. I'm a bit upset to learn that none of the discs have any of the special features available on the individually released discs, but if I'm being honest with myself, I probably wouldn't have watched most of them. I got through half of the commentary for Seven Samurai before I grew tired of Michael Jeck's highly informative but also dry and lifeless ramblings. And, on the plus side, they've gone back and corrected the few problems evident in earlier prints of the film. So, for 8 bucks a movie, I'll continue to convince myself that this was a wise investment.

Halloween Picture Extravaganza

2010-11-01T00:10:00.000-07:00

I'll take it as a good sign that I'm too busy enjoying Halloween to write about it. I'm watching too many movies, going to too many parties, carving too many pumpkins, and gathering candy from too many houses to really write or post anything in-depth. This upcoming week will probably see a few more detailed impressions of the holiday's activities, but for now, enjoy a few glimpses into my recent life.

This is my six year old daughter's first ever attempt at pumpkin carving. She did every part by herself, from the gutting to drawing the pattern to carving. And speaking of my daughter:

And finally, here's a growing mob of my horror related toys. There's a few more boxes to go through in the garage(which I believe are primarily McFarlane toys. At least Freddy and a second Thing figure are still to be unpacked), but here's what I've got out so far. The life-size Sally doll in the back was part of a promotion we did at Suncoast for Halloween a few years back. Every customer who had our club card was entered into a drawing for Sally. Our customer never came in for it, and after six months I was told I could do whatever I wanted with it. And there it is, uprooted temporarily from it's position directly in front of our back door. The year before we had done a similar promotion but the prize was a life-size Jack Skellington. I really would have loved to get the pair of them.

The tiny figures in the front may look like Marvel superheroes, but in fact they're the zombified version from the aptly named Marvel Zombies series. I have a larger zombie Spiderman, but didn't feel like cracking that one open yet. The Universal Monster mini-busts along the left side of the picture came with the DVD collector's set of all three of their respective collections(man, I really miss that Suncoast discount), and if you'll notice near the back, in the middle, I finally got a Creature From The Black Lagoon figure. It's a pretty sweet figure, even if it doesn't fit on it's base at all. That's fine, though; it's remarkably stable without it.

And that's all for tonight, I'm gonna go try and squeeze in a viewing of The Walking Dead before bedtime. I really need to demand Mondays off whenever Halloween falls on a Sunday.

2010-10-30T20:59:00.000-07:00

I'm off to a party tonight, so no time for a longer post. So here's a quick pic I had our neighbor snap of Amber and I, all dressed up and ready to go. Notice the skin flap hanging off my neck, and the brains peaking out on my head. Despite the gore, I kinda think I look like a Munster. And if you can't quite make out the brains, here's a closeup.

Food coloring, corn starch, water and dried onion flakes. Fully edible for that extra verisimilitude.

Office Outbreak: Day Ten

2010-10-29T20:56:00.001-07:00

The zombies showed up today, led by Otto from the Simpson's Treehouse of Horror. It wasn't too bad, they weren't very big and I was able to just step on them.

Creepy Couture: Godzilla #2

2010-10-28T22:55:00.000-07:00

The second of my two Godzilla shirts, both bought in Disneyworld. You may find it silly to buy a shirt I can order anywhere for a probably inflated price, but to you I say you just don't understand the joys of shopping while on vacation. Of my two shirts, I much prefer the design of the previous one, but I picked up this one for the whole concert-T vibe, further exemplified on the back:

Office Outbreak: Day Eight

2010-10-27T23:10:00.000-07:00

The New Guys showed up on the shelf next to my desk today, and I have to admit I'm having a bit of trouble feeling any fear in their presence. It certainly isn't the quality of the sculpts, which are all pretty fantastic. It's probably their diminutive size, and the fact that Jason looks incredibly cute as he holds his knife out in front of him.

Creepy Couture: Frankenstein

2010-10-27T22:04:00.000-07:00

In the battle of the classic Universal Monsters, the Creature From The Black Lagoon will undoubtedly win the day time and again for me. However, when it comes to the men behind those monsters, Boris Karloff is by far the reigning champ. As an actor I've only begun to delve into his considerable filmography over the last couple years, but he's always struck me as eminently watchable even in the worst schlock. That alone gives today's shirt a place of honor in my closet.

Creepy Couture: Evil Dead

2010-10-26T21:07:00.000-07:00

This was purchased back in the middle days of my Suncoast employment, from the Northway Mall store I eventually ended up managing. At the time I was an employee at another store, and the Northway location was the cluttered, kinda grimy feeling store that got sent all of the toys and memorabilia once it went on clearance. That's how I picked up this sweet Evil Dead shirt for 2 bucks.

Office Outbreak: Day Seven

2010-10-26T18:31:00.000-07:00

Things are getting serious at work. The Invisible Man has shown up.

What Would You Do?

2010-10-26T13:32:00.000-07:00

This Halloween for me has been all about revisiting my childhood, often indirectly. My weekend movie marathons have consisted primarily of flicks I enjoyed as a child, while my weekday movie watching has most prominently featured films that I'd see in a video store or bits of on TV, but never actually got around to watching. This has extended to all sorts of areas, as I look through my old(or sometimes not-so-old) boxes of toys and memorabilia, and I've been reading Bunnicula to my daughter before bedtime. This put me in mind of a book I was mildly creeped out by as a child Dr. Seuss' Oh, The Thinks You Can Think. The book isn't scary, or even designed to be scary, but towards the end of the typically slim book is this two-page image:

That image would always get me slightly spooked, and it's stayed in my mind throughout my life. Amber has been teasing me about this for being a coward, but I think she's maybe misunderstanding me. I was never afraid of the picture, it never gave me nightmares or kept me up at night, but it haunted me from the first moment I saw it. The familiar distorted architecture and stylized figures combined with the silhouette-only Jibboo, did instill a little bit of fear. But it was like the fear you feel when studying a spider you've just caught; fascination mixed with some primal nervousness. And that caption, it stuck with me, too. Many a time have I asked myself, 'what would I do if I met a Jibboo? What. Would. I. Do?'

Creepy Couture: Godzilla #1

2010-10-25T21:33:00.000-07:00

We're heading into the final stretch before the big day, so I'm ramping up my activity for this final week of, as Rik puts it, Halloween Proper is over. So, as an added bonus, each day I'll be posting whatever Halloween themed shirt I've got on that day. Yeah yeah, it's a bit conceited, but... what the hell, right? 'Tis the season, and all that.

Office Outbreak: Day Six

2010-10-25T18:47:00.000-07:00

Alarming news, everyone! I got to work today and discovered that aliens had colonized the postage meter on my desk!

More specifically, it's been colonized by the alien from... Alien, and the predator from... Predator. For some reason they've put aside their famous enmity for the time being. There's no sign of the little spaceman from last week, but it can't be a good sign that that middle egg has hatched. I'm not too worried about it yet, but this does not bode well for the mouse population of the building.

Beware of the Blob

2010-10-25T00:15:00.000-07:00

A short one one, but I'm getting this in just under the wire. A musical selection from today's viewing selection, which my daughter reacted to with delighted screaming. Enjoy the snazziest theme song for a horrible mass-murdering monster ever recorded.

The Week In Review

2010-10-23T18:38:00.000-07:00

It's been a bit of a busy day, and I'm about to start my weekly mini-marathon, so I'm just gonna recap the genre movies I've seen the last week, with more full reviews coming tomorrow and throughout the week.

Last week's mini-marathon had no theme, but the films were Critters 1 & 2, and Pumpkinhead. I suppose you could say the theme was 'childhood favorites', but it turns out I hadn't seen Pumpkinhead. I thought I had, but it turns out I had just seen Pumpkinhead 2. As with the week before, most of the enjoyment this night came from the group of people and the abundance of food. That's not to say that I didn't enjoy the movies. Critters 1 &2 have long been guilty pleasures. I realize they're just Gremlins knockoffs, but I still get a kick out of them. Part 2 in particular ups the ante in terms of bodycount and inventiveness in a way a lot of cheapo sequels don't. It's also quite hardcore for a PG-13 movie, with frequent nudity and quite a bit of gore. Pumpkinhead was a pretty good movie, although it never quite hit the heights it was aiming for. That was perhaps due to the weird, cartoonishly oversized fake teeth Lance Henriksen was wearing.

Although my weekly marathons tend to rely on movies we've all seen, albeit not for years, the stuff I've been watching throughout the week has been all new-to-me stuff. Earth Vs. The Flying Saucers I already wrote about, but I also continued the Harryhausen theme with The Beast From 20,000 Fathoms. Along with those, I rented Oliver Stone's first studio film, The Hand, which was well done but maybe a tad too self serious. And last night I caught up with the 2002 film The Mothman Prophecies. The film had some seriously creepy moments scattered throughout, but never had any sense of real tension or fear.

Again, I'll write more tomorrow, but today was taken up with errands and housecleaning and now more movie watching. As much as I enjoy blogging and keeping up with this Countdown to Halloween, I'd much rather be watching scary flicks with friends.

And in case your interested, tonight's theme is "Remakes" with The Blob, The Thing, and Night of the Living Dead. I could easily have substituted Invasion Of The Body Snatchers or The Fly, but both of those are a bit long and slow for a group experience. Have fun with whatever films your catching up with tonight, I'm gonna go gorge on Chinese food and practical effects.

Office Outbreak: Day Three

2010-10-22T13:43:00.000-07:00

No updates on the public domain classic monsters. They seem content to just chill atop my computer monitor for the moment. But when I came into work today I found this guy exploring my desk.

There's something written on the back of his suit. Does anyone know what Weyland-Yutani means? Why does that sound so familiar?

Earth Vs. the Flying Saucers

2010-10-21T22:03:00.000-07:00

Between 9 hour work days, filming excursions and family events at my daughter's school(two in as many weeks!), it's hard to believe that I've been able to watch anything. Truthfully, it's been difficult, and most nights I can only find the energy to read a bit before bed, but I have been making a point of carving room into my schedule to clear out some of the sci-fi or horror films on my DVR and Netflix queue.

The other night I caught up with Earth Vs. The Flying Saucers, a fondly remembered, if not entirely beloved, alien invasion flick from the height of the alien invasion fad in the fifties. It's primarily remembered for the special effects by stop-motion maestro Ray Harryhausen, and rightfully so. Although the effects are obviously dated and a bit rickety by modern standards, the animation by Harryhausen gives the generically shaped UFOs a more dynamic feel as the tops of the saucers continually spin, even when the rest of the ship is at rest. It sounds like a small detail, but it actually made the movie feel remarkably different from other UFO movies of the time that I've seen(although, it should be noted, I haven't seen a remarkably large cross section of these films). In fact, most of the joy I gleaned from this movie came from the details, as I found most of the movie to be a bit dull and by-the-numbers. I may be going against the grain a bit, but I found myself fighting to stay awake in any of the scenes that didn't feature the UFOs or their shockingly handicapped passengers. Seriously, these aliens traversed the galaxy and created technology that would allow them to interact with lifeforms on a different plane of existence, and they can't create suits with arms that bend? Watching them try to pick things up was just silly.

But as I said, it's the details I really enjoyed in this film. I loved that the aliens lived at a different temporal frequency, and it took some effort to be seen or heard. I loved that the violence between our species was caused by an initial misunderstand due to not being able to communicate properly(and the American military's shoot-first policy). I loved that the aliens told time based on the position of various planets or stars in the sky(attack when planet X is in the shadow of alpha centauri, stuff like that). All of that was pretty awesome, and I even liked the manner in which they were eventually defeated, through sonic frequencies used to disrupt the alien technology, one of the many things that inspired Mars Attacks.

I am, of course, glad I watched the film. It gave me plenty to think about. During those moments where I wasn't in danger of passing out.

Office Outbreak: Day One

2010-10-20T21:03:00.000-07:00

I knew something was wrong the moment I walked into work this morning. There was an odd feeling in the air. Nobody looked me in the eyes, and it was oddly quiet. No one was gathered at the water cooler, or talking to coworkers about what they had seen on TV the night before. They just went about their business with heads down and a few nervous glances out of the corner of their eyes. I headed over to my desk, and then I knew what it was. It was staring me right in the face.

My office had been invaded by miniature public domain imitations of the classic Universal Monsters. The Mummy, Wolfman, Frankenstein's Monster, and what appears to be Count Orlock now perch menacingly atop my computer. The usual assortment of chintzy superhero toys were nowhere to be seen. Frankenstein's Monster and his outstretched arms may signify nothing more than the usual manner in which he carries himself in public, but The Wolfman and Count Orlock are clearly pointing at me, as if to say "you're next!"

A few minutes of searching and I found the displaced comic characters lying in disarray underneath my desk:

Batman was left hanging from some cables, the Joker was crushed underneath a boulder, and while the Hulk's infirmity wasn't immediately identifiable, he doesn't look very happy about his situation.

This isn't looking good. If you don't hear from me over the next couple days, someone call Van Helsing.

[Hat tip to Rik over at The Cinema 4 Pylon]

Our Untitled Zombie Film: Update 10/19/10

2010-10-19T23:57:00.000-07:00

I've already mentioned, briefly, the currently in progress zombie project I'm working on with my pal Eric. It's a film I technically wrote back in our UAA days, and I've been steadily refining it over the past decade. I've finally reached the point where I'm sick of waiting for the perfect moment to film, or for everyone to be in one place(most of the friends I wrote parts for aren't in the same state these days), and I've decided to just go out there and do it. Whatever "it" is. At this point our method is to head outside and film a few key scenes, leaving plenty of room for improvisation if something suddenly inspires us. Our goal is to have enough footage at the end to put together a probably very amateurish but hopefully also kinda cool trailer. Right now I'm viewing this as a practice run for filming something larger next summer, so I'm not sweating it if not everything comes off perfectly.

We haven't had any large zombie gatherings since the last post, as most of our outings have consisted primarily of location scouting and brainstorming, with some on-the-fly filming of whatever strikes us cool, or possible with only the two of us. Here's a few more shots from our latest outing earlier today.

Filming out at Turnagain Pass. The basic subject was Eric's character traversing the wilderness. We gathered a lot of footage for what will probably amount to less than 5 seconds of film time.

Yes, our film will feature zombies, samurai swords, shotguns, and a bit of kung fu. It will be exceedingly nerdy, and possibly only amusing to us.

Eric, striking a pose as he prepares to face the coming onslaught.

Goofy old me, of course.

An Open Letter to The Creators of Haven

2010-10-18T16:11:00.000-07:00

For those not paying attention, the Friday before last saw the season finale of Haven, a SyFy show based on The Colorado Kid, a novella by Stephen King. I'm still a bit surprised by the King connection, because it's more loosely based on that property than The Lawnmower Man was, and Mr. King sued to make sure he wasn't credited with inspiring that film. In fact, after sitting through the entire first season of Haven, I'm convinced that SyFy found out they owned the rights to The Colorado Kid for some reason, and then shoehorned in some character names from that book onto a pre-existing spec script. There's really no other way to explain it. The Colorado Kid is a short mystery with no solution, a weird story two reporters in a small Maine town tell to a younger reporter, about a dead body found on a lake shore in town. Every clue to the man's identity and reason for being in town, including how and why he died, contradicted every other bit of evidence. It was intentionally left unsolvable; the point was to give you just enough information to think there might be an answer, but not enough to ever find one. The SyFy show Haven is about an FBI agent in a small town where everyone seems to be hiding some weird, vaguely defined supernatural power, like weather control, pyrokinesis or shapeshifting.

But, I've reached the point in my life where I don't care about fidelity to the source material, so long as the finished product stands on it's own. Haven bears little relation to The Colorado Kid, but that's fine; the book is still there on my shelf if I ever want to revisit it. A crappy or unfaithful adaptation does not negate the existence of the original. So I watched Haven, and it never bothered me that the show was such a mismatch with the source material. What bothered me was the often horrendous writing and acting on the show. It eventually got better, if only marginally, by the latter half of the season, but it still left a lot of room for improvement. It may improve greatly in it's second season, or it may not, but you can rest assured that I'll probably watch every minute of it. With SyFy recently announcing that Haven will indeed have a second season, I'd like to provide the producers with some free, unsolicited advice that would, if not help the show, at least help my enjoyment of it.

First off, you need to establish a few more secondary characters. Right now you have 3 or 4 characters who show up in each episode, and maybe 4 more that show up every now and again. You need to increase that number a little. I'm not talking about giving large chunks of the show to new characters, I'm talking about building on the ones you've already introduced. This is supposed to be a very small, slightly isolated community, so after awhile we should be seeing some recurring faces. And while we're on the subject, stop making the weekly threat a brand new character that we've never seen before, and never see again. With such a small community you're soon going to run into the problem that Murder, She Wrote had. By the end of that series there had been 800 murders in a town of 3000. At that point if you lived in Cabot Cove you were either a murderer, a victim, or a cop. Or a writer who was always in the process of writing a book that was suspiciously similar to the murder. The best place you could have done this was in the midseason episode where it turned out the proprietor of a local hotel, and a very well known man in Haven, was a shapeshifter who had taken the identity from a dead man decades earlier. This was a huge shock to the characters, but we were shown that he was a shapeshifter pretty much the moment he was introduced. If this character had been around in earlier episodes, even if he didn't have a speaking role, the impact of the episode would have been magnified a hundredfold.

Next, take a little time and actually think about the supernatural threats in each episode. Topics like; How does this tie in with the overall theme of the episode? Why is this happening? How is this happening? Does this make any sense? I can't stress this last one enough; you need to make sure the supernatural threat being faced is at least logically consistent within the confines of the show. This shouldn't be that hard, because as show concepts go, 'weird shit happens' is remarkably flexible. For example, the episode where the guy who eats when angry, and inadvertantly poisons every other food item made with ingredients that came from the same place not only made no logical sense, but is very hard to visualize or explain. I'm still not sure how that one worked, and like most mysteries on the show you pretty much sweep them under the rug once they've been solved. Or the episode where that one lady has one night stands and then has a baby in the morning, while the father ages rapidly and dies of old age just as the baby is being born. The fact that a main character survived this isn't a surprise; I don't think anyone expected you to kill someone who's name is in the opening credits so early in the show's run, but your reasoning that he survived because he was outside of the building and not in close proximity to the child made no sense. What about the earlier victim who wasn't even within city limits? It's these little things you should think of before your show goes before the camera.

Now, it's not all doom and gloom. The show did get better, especially in the last quarter of the season. While never great, the show did feel like it was starting to get in gear, and all the disparate pieces were in the process of clicking. You took a risk introducing an overarching plot in the first episode, and then largely ignoring it for the remainder of the season, only to spring it on the audience in the last few minutes of the final episode. I think it worked, though, because it gave the sense that there might be a method to the madness(and frankly, I was starting to wonder what the point of it all was, because 'The Troubles' was always poorly defined as a reason for the overall weirdness of the town). But here's where things get tricky: the temptation next season is going to be a reversal back into episodic monster of the week episodes so you don't alienate new viewers. This is fine, to a point. Monster of the Week episodes are fun, but time needs to be given to advancing the master plot. You can't do it all at once, because then you'll have shot your load and there's nowhere to go. You can't parcel it out as slowly as you did in season one, because then people will stop caring. Fast. Following my first piece of advice by introducing new recurring characters will help with this. Right now the focus is solely on the two leads, and their respective mysteries can only be teased out for so long before it becomes annoying. Having a larger stable of characters and more involved storylines for the weekly threats will make it possible to advance the master plot without coming to a dead end. Right now there are a few thousand residents of Haven, and each of them has a story. Instead of treating each one as it's own individual story, start weaving them into one large whole.

So good luck when you return in the Spring, Haven. I'll be watching and rooting for you. And if you need a creative consultant, I work cheap.

Nautical Nightmare #3: Deep Rising

2010-10-18T00:12:00.000-07:00

The final movie for our aquatically themed mini-marathon was the first and only film to be set above water. Perhaps the sudden decompression on the way up from the murky depths led to a case of the bends that, if not technically fatal, at least facilitated a temporary unconscious state. So, with Amber off to bed, and most of my guests stumbling out into the night to hopefully make it home before passing out, it was down to my pal Eric and I to soldier through 1999's Deep Rising.

The worst DVD cover in the world. I won't blame you if you never saw it.

It wasn't all that difficult, actually, as Deep Rising is a personal favorite, and a pretty fast moving film. It's not as ambitious as Leviathan, and it trades the impressive physical monster effects that were such a big part of the appeal of Leviathan and Deepstar Six for some rather dated CGI(hey, they were cool for 1999). The film is no lost classic, but it was only ever designed to deliver a few shocks and gross out moments in a slick, fun package, and it succeeds in that regard.

A lot of the film's success is due to the cast, led by the always dependable Treat Williams, who gets the most unassuming catchphrase ever heard in an action film until Ron Perlman shouted 'Crap!' in Hellboy. He's cheesy and macho in all the right ways as a smuggler who gets roped into hijacking an ocean liner that is mysteriously empty(and bloody) when they arrive. But we have to give credit to Kevin J. O'Connor, playing his usual fidgety nervous sidekick. His role would normally be rote comedic relief, but he brings a weird bemused energy to his pratfalls and screams, and it works better than it should.

As I said, no lost classic, but it was good enough that I've always wanted a sequel(and with an ending that implies the survivors are either on Monster Island, or the island from Lost, it almost demands one), and it's been a disappointment to see Stephen Sommers retreat into awful, awful updates of Universal monster movies.

A Halloween Hootenanny #1: The Undead Shuffle

2010-10-17T00:45:00.000-07:00

Here's a mix I did a couple years back made up entirely of songs relating to zombies. I hope you enjoy, and it helps get you into the swing of things.

Nautical Nightmare #2: Leviathan

2010-10-16T00:03:00.000-07:00

If Deepstar Six was a nautical riff on Alien, than Leviathan would be an aquatic version of John Carpenter's The Thing. A group of people in a remote and inhospitable environment stumbles across the wreckage of a foreign expedition and unwittingly returns with a shape shifting lifeform capable of infecting the entire crew. The details, some of them, may be different, but it's hard to ignore the often striking similarities. In both cases the lifeform in question spreads like a disease, infecting a host and gradually taking them over. In both cases if a piece is cut off of the lifeform, the creature can grow from both the original body and the new smaller piece. The only real difference often seems to be the locale.

One thing Leviathan lacks, though, is the often apocalyptic sense of paranoia and claustrophobia that The Things has. There's a couple of character's who keep their infection a secret from the rest of the crew, but there's never any real question about who may or may not be infected, and once they are they die in fairly quick order. Aside from a creepy scene involving the scavenging of a sunken Russian ship(watch for the oversize, mutated fish skeleton on the ocean floor which is completely unremarked upon by the characters), the movie goes for a more straightforward action/horror feel. This isn't too say Leviathan is a horrible film, in fact it's quite fun at times. This is aided primarily by Peter Weller's standard idiosyncratic performance and Stan Winston's standard gorgeous creature design(something also shared with The Thing; although Rob Bottin did the bulk of effects on that film, Stan Winston helped out on some of the more memorable effects). The monster looks great, a monster that keeps some of the physical characteristics of everything and everyone it kills, but never loses the look of a giant fish.

As I said, the film is often fun, but also often groaningly overdone. Take the ending, where the surviving characters escape from the ocean floor and run into their mysterious corporate liaison, seen up til now only on a video monitor, and played by the always slightly creepy Meg Foster. The movie, which has been trying to build up horror and claustrophobia, ends suddenly with the death of a main character and a stupid punchline. I guess that's a pretty standard way to end an action movie, but still a bit tonally off for a horror movie. All in all, a decent movie despite it's faults, but in the future I'll be sticking with The Thing.

Interlude #2

2010-10-15T00:00:00.001-07:00

It's another busy day. Tonight was taken up with a family night at my daughter's school. In the interim, enjoy this trailer for Dirty Dancing reimagined as directed by David Lynch. Not really horror, I know, but plenty creepy. It's amazing how a few little edits can turn something more or less innocent into something that seems unspeakably perverse. Which I guess pretty much sums up Mr. Lynch's career.

Nautical Nightmare #1: Deepstar Six

2010-10-13T21:22:00.000-07:00

As I get into the spirit of Halloween with an increased amount of horror movie viewings(which is actually saying something) I find that the movies I really want to see most aren't the time-tested classics, but the semi-shitty monster flicks that stalked video store shelves in the late eighties and early nineties. As much as I love The Shining or The Exorcist, what I really want to watch is crap like Pumpkinhead and Graveyard Shift. It's this urge that's been guiding my movie choices in the weekly movie nights Amber and I host every weekend, and it's why I ended up watching a triple feature this week of monster movies set in(or on) the ocean. The movies all had to have monsters, not just sea creatures of a larger and more bloodthirsty nature than normal. So, with this single rule, we made our choices: Deepstar Six, Leviathan, and Deep Rising.

The first movie of the night, Deepstar Six, came out in 1989 as part of a wave(pun intended) of aquatic sci-fi/horror films that also included Leviathan and The Abyss. The movie isn't anything special, but I remember thinking the monster was pretty cool. Turns out my memories were entirely correct; the movie is generic as can be, and the monster is still pretty cool. When it comes to rewatching these movies from my youth, I'm always worried that the adult experience will be so negative as to overshadow whatever positive memories I may hold. I think the best that can be said about Deepstar Six is that this didn't happen; the movie was pretty much what I expected it to be. What I wasn't expecting, though, was how much the film cribbed from Alien. The film features a few scenes where a character explores the ocean that are reminiscent of John Hurt exploring the spaceship at the beginning of Alien, and the film makes frequent use of radar as a suspense building device. This may just be the requirements of setting a monster movie in an isolated, enclosed area surrounded by an inhospitable environment, but it's not hard to see the pitch line for this film as 'an aquatic Alien.' Either way, the film doesn't have any of the style or skill, not to mention the suspense and visceral punch of that far superior Ridley Scott film, and the writing and characters are rote. Each character is defined only by a single characteristic, like 'British guy' or 'Russian guy' or 'Girl'.

Like I said, the film was about what I expected. The monster effects were still modestly impressive, although the design was a little clunkier than I remembered. But at the very least Deepstar Six didn't make me question the intelligence of my younger self.

A Slight Interlude

2010-10-12T19:27:00.000-07:00

I've got a longer post in the works, but I'm off to play boardgames with the family for now, and I might not get to it tonight. In the meantime, check out this pretty nifty video for the song Nightmare by techno outfit Brainbug. I'm not normally a techno fan(in fact I despise most of it), but this song is pretty catchy, and it sure fits the month's theme.

The Monolith Monsters

2010-10-10T21:36:00.000-07:00

One of the best things about being a parent is sharing things that you loved when you were your child's age. Now that my daughter is 6, that means I've been sharing comic books and lightly scary movies like Godzilla and The Incredible Shrinking Man. With Halloween just around the corner we're trying to get into the holiday spirit by cramming in as many holiday appropriate films as possible. Our latest pick was, as stated yesterday, The Monolith Monsters. Below is the trailer again, in case you missed it.

The Monolith Monsters is unlikely to be considered essential viewing by any but the most devoted of classic horror fans, yet it perfectly fits the criteria I've laid out for myself concerning my ongoing cinematic education. It also dovetails quite nicely with my daughter's burgeoning interest in scary movies. Of course, at this age I'm not about to show her anything too extreme or gory, and those old black and white monster flicks are about the perfect speed. That's fine by me, as it gives me an excuse to flesh out my knowledge of horror films from the pre-sixties. I may have seen more black and white horror and sci-fi than most people my age, but there's still a ton out there left to see. So, with snacks in hand we sat down on the couch to watch The Monolith Monsters while mom cross-stitched next to us. A portrait of the middle class family.

It turns out The Monolith Monsters was a pretty good choice for the night's entertainment. There's nothing in the film that would be considered scary by a modern audience, but it still has an impressive sense of suspense and a pretty large scale. We're shown pretty early on just how the titular space rocks will become a threat, though it takes a good chunk of the movie for the heroes to figure it out. In the interim we watch as the intrepid scientist and his best gal(know what I love about these films? The way scientists are treated as romantic leads and men of action) try to figure out why people are being found turned to stone and surrounded by shiny black rocks.

The reason? It turns out those space rocks can draw the moisture, specifically the silica, out of people and use it to grow. The growth is limited only by the amount of water available. The rocks will continue to grow until they are standing tall with the nearby mountains and they topple under their own weight, only to start over again as the individual pieces begin to draw moisture from whatever source is nearby. The science behind this is, of course, ridiculous, but it's treated believably by the movie to the point that you don't really question it. It also helps that the rock effects are, albeit simple, very cool looking, and the film sets a pretty good pace.

As I said, nothing in the film is very scary, but there is suspense. The scene where the scientist figures out how the rocks operate, and suddenly realizes there's a rainstorm raging outside, is particularly well done. Above all, the movie is fun. It was a great way to spend the evening, under a blanket, on the couch, sharing snacks and scares with my daughter.

"Rocks, Joe?!"

2010-10-10T18:01:00.000-07:00

Today's lesson in my daughter's burgeoning horror education is The Monolith Monsters. This is great, because I haven't watched it yet either, although I love the trailer below. I'll post back later with our thoughts.

Our Untitled Zombie Film

2010-10-09T19:21:00.000-07:00

About 10 years ago, hanging out with a bunch of friends I met at college, I began working on a zombie film. The film was to be a collaboration, written and starring my friends and I as characters very obviously based on ourselves. The script that I wrote came out of several late night conversations about what we would do if zombies rose to devour the living. Over the next decade I would return to the script and rewrite or revise it here and there. Friends moved, or lost touch, and the movie never got made. Until now. We're not really filming the entire movie, but I've decided I'm sick of waiting and not doing anything, and so I've gotten together those still in town and those interested and we're putting together a short trailer as a test run of the film. Today was day one of shooting, and it was a blast. Here's a few pics from the set(or, rather, my backyard). Enjoy this little teaser for the finished product, which should be completed over the next month or so.

Amber applying makeup.

Testing out a makeshift camera dolly. We eventually had to scrap the idea because the ground wasn't even enough.

My sister's friend Matthew doing one of our few actual stunts during a practice run.

A few of our featured zombies. Nathan, for one, seems to be enjoying his unlife.

Eric and I coordinating our "big action set piece" of the day.

And that's a wrap. For the day. There's lots more to do, and we'll be filming throughout the fall and into winter, so I'll be sure to keep updating as we go.

A Hole in the Wall

2010-10-08T18:51:00.000-07:00

This is not a ghost story.

The main reason this is not a ghost story is that there are no ghosts in it. No long dead wraiths with unfinished business, no malicious poltergeists throwing furniture against the walls, and no lost souls trying to reach out from the other side. If this were a ghost story it would probably be more satisfying. You could come away from reading it satisfied that you had gotten your times worth. "This is about the time I met a ghost, and this is what it had to tell me." Perhaps it would cause you to question your beliefs about the afterlife. Perhaps it would reaffirm them. Or perhaps you would simply dismiss it as an obviously fraudulent Halloween tale. Unfortunately there are no such meetings in this story, and it is far too mundane to be likely to inspire such impassioned responses. What I will say, however, is that this story is completely true, and it's about the scariest moments in my life.

During my first two years of college I worked a couple nights a week cleaning a laundromat. I would come in sometime between midnight and 7am and sweep, mop and wipe down the laundry machines. It was not a glamorous or high paying job, but it was easy, the money was under the table, and I got paid a flat rate per night. That meant that if I worked quickly I could make nearly 20 bucks an hour. Not a bad job for a college kid with no bills. A couple hours work and I'd have enough for a couple new CDs. It also helped that I enjoyed the night. I enjoyed biking to work through dark and empty streets, seeing no one but the occasional cat or dog. I liked biking home as the sun was just about to rise. Sometimes these commutes would turn into full on excursions, as I biked down the coastal trail, or just roamed around the deserted midtown area.

The night this story takes place was in the early fall, which means that it got very dark at night and there was snow on the mountains, but it was temperate enough that you could comfortably venture out at night with a light jacket. I started working about 1am, and there was nothing about the night-or the laundromat itself- that would make me think that soon I would be fearing for my life.

I went about my business for the first hour as I normally did; headphones on as I wiped down the washing machines, swept the floor and emptied the trash. After throwing the trash into the dumpsters around back I took off my headphones as I switched the CD in my discman, and I noticed a sound I had so far missed: running water. Now, that's not something you'd be surprised to hear in a laundromat, even one that was closed, but this sounded different. It wasn't the sound of water running through pipes. This was the sound of open water. Imagine a deep and slowly moving creek. I had already turned off the power to the laundry machines, so I checked the sinks and toilets; none of them were running.

Along the back of the laundromat, running the length of the business, was a 3-4 foot wide corridor. It was primarily for storage and the pipe-works. You could walk through it, if you were sure to watch your head for frequent pipes, and didn't mind emerging covered in dust and cobwebs. I checked back there, turning on the one bare bulb, but none of the pipes were leaking. And anyways the sound of water was no louder in the corridor than anywhere else in the building. Feeling my obligation to the owners was fulfilled, I stopped looking for leaks and set about my final task of mopping.

Now that I had noticed it, however, the sound of water was all I could hear, and uneasiness started to creep in.

At the time I regularly wore a necklace. A small Chinese coin on a leather strap. I'm not normally a necklace person, and have never before or since worn any form of jewelry, but this had been the lone gift at a pretty crappy birthday, so it held some small sentimental value. As I worked I became very aware of that necklace. I felt very clearly the leather strap on the back of my neck. As I worked, and the sound of water seemed to get louder, that awareness rose to irritation. The strap first itched, than seemed to burn. My discman remained off, because I was filled with the sudden conviction that I needed to be able to hear my surroundings. I frequently stole looks around the room, although there was nothing for me to see. The room was brightly lit, and the only thing I could see was my reflection in the glass window running along the front of the building.

Finally, my job done, I emptied the mop bucket and set the supplies back in the closet and made my way to the door of the building. Something near the bottom of the back wall caught my eye, and I detoured to take a look. The wall was wooden in this portion, and along the bottom there was a small hole. It was about 3 inches wide, and maybe 6 inches high. It was almost pitch black in there, but I could see something reflective as I knelt down in front of it. Water. Not still water, either. The water wasn't running. It seemed, in the dim light, to be moving always closer, like a miniature tide. I had a sudden sense of scale that shouldn't have fit into that tiny space. Logically I knew the area back there could only have been a couple feet, but it seemed so much bigger in my heightened sense of paranoia. Water was all I could hear, and I was suddenly filled with the absolute certainty that if I didn't leave right now, I would die. It wasn't even fear, just a flat understanding that my life would end if I didn't get the hell out of there immediately.

This is the point in the story where, if it were a proper ghost tale, the presence would make itself known. A ghostly pale claw would reach out towards me, and my hair would turn white as I ran gibbering from the building and into madness. But this is not a proper ghost story, and nothing made itself known to me. Nothing happened at all, aside from me rushing out the door, locking it behind me, and biking back home. A little more quickly and direct than usual, but nothing eventful. I went back to work the next week, and didn't feel the slightest uneasiness. The sound of water was gone, and for the rest of my time working there I never had any inkling that anything was wrong. The hole was still there, but I never again saw any water behind it. The only proof I had of the event was a red ring around my neck where the leather strap lay, but even that had faded by the next day.

Classic(?) Working Dead

2010-10-07T22:58:00.000-07:00

It's late, I've been cleaning my house all day, and now I have to go watch Fringe, so I'm going to cheat a bit on this one by rerunning a classic review that might help you decide what horror movie to watch this weekend. My review may sound a bit negative, but I think it is, in the end, a film I'm glad I saw, and actually want to watch again sometime soon. Also, continue to check out the Countdown to Halloween website, which has some great blogs taking part in the celebration. I've been reading some of them, and a lot of them are very entertaining. I know, this is cheap, but trust me, tomorrow's will make up for it. And there are some exciting things in the pipe for the rest of the month.

"Classic" Review: Cthulhu

This last few weeks have marked the passage of the seventh annual Anchorage International Film Festival, an event for which I was lucky enough to be a judge(in one of the short film categories). This presented me with a golden opportunity to attend every screening for free. I was in heaven. Unfortunately, this happened to coincide with my increasingly stupid looking decision to take on a second job for extra holiday money. Coupled with normal familial duties, I was unable to attend all but two films. The first of the two, Once, was extraordinarily enjoyable, and I'll be writing about that one at a later date. The second film, and subject of this post, was Cthulhu, a low budget, DVE-shot horror film loosely based on HP Lovecraft's Shadow Over Innsmouth.

In this filmed version, the main character, Russ, is a gay history professor in Seattle who is called back to his home town of Rivermouth when his mother passes away. Back in Rivermouth, Russ can't wait to return to Seattle, finding nothing but antagonism from his father(who leads the church of the Esoteric Order of Dagon) and the townsfolk who view his sexuality as the height of mental degeneration. His father, and indeed a few of the townspeople, take a very aggressive interest in wanting to see Russ have children(for reasons I'll explain later, but will probably make a bit of sense to people familiar with the story). The only friendly face he sees is that of his childhood friend Mike, a divorced father with whom he had a... sexually ambiguous relationship growing up. I suppose at this point something should be said about the homosexual themes in this film, since the protagonist's homosexuality is a large part of the plot both literally and metaphorically. Russ' father is upset at his son not for being gay, it seems, but for not having children, and metaphorically Russ' homosexuality heightens the tension and fear of returning to a small town, let alone one as bizarre as Rivermouth.

The plot(and I'm going to give spoilers here, so if you haven't read the story, or want to see this fresh, I'd suggest you skip ahead a paragraph) revolves around Russ' heredity, and the Esoteric Order of Dagon that his father leads. Dagon, as Lovecraft readers know, is one of the Deep Ones, a fish-god that grants wealth to those who offer up human sacrifices. There's also a lot of inter-species breeding going on, as the fish-men mate with humans and produce immortal offspring, and the people themselves begin to become more fish-like. Russ' family is so intent on him having children because his family has long been the emissaries of Cthulhu(although the church names Dagon, he is never specifically mentioned in the movie, instead they use the more popularly known Cthulhu), and they need him to father the next generation of fish-people and pave the way for the return of the Deep Ones. This is a little ill-defined in the movie, as much of the film is. A lot of it still works, however, to heighten the confusion and fear, but at times is the ambiguity is a bit off-putting. It works well when the characters are confused and unsure of things, but when they seem completely aware of everything and the audience is in the dark, it's a bit frustrating.

Now, I'll be honest here and admit that my initial reaction as the film went to black was 'god, what a mess!' The film is so jumbled and switches scenes and tones at such a jarring rate that it seemed to me a horribly confused mess. But, as the credits rolled, and that final image stuck with me, and I thought back over the film, I realized that the film had some very good ideas, but was slightly off the mark. The film feels one or two drafts, and several days in the editing bay away from being a really good film. The director, Dan Gildark, was at the screening I attended, and said that his distributor was imposing 8 minutes of edits on him, and I really do think that with those trimmings the film could be something special. Particularly, the flashbacks seem largely unnecessary and confusing. There's a brief flashback of Russ entering a room where a woman is crying, you see him with a shocked face as the woman screams 'What did you do to me?' Later in the film Russ is seen attempting suicide in flashback. Who was this woman? Was it his sister(the only prominent female from his childhood we see)? What was done to her? Did Russ attempt suicide because of this or some other reason? It's not clear at all, although when I asked him the director said there was a whole side story there that he cut out, choosing instead to make that vague and mysterious. I think this was a mistake, because without any context the flashbacks only serve to distract from an already convoluted plot, and it seems like these scenes should be important but there's absolutely no connection to the rest of the film.

But let's focus on what does work. As I said, the idea of an ostracized gay man returning home to face malevolent cosmic forces AND unfriendly townspeople is well realized, and more literally turns the hero into 'the outsider', something the film is tactful enough not to hammer you over the head about. The more mundane family and relationship moments work very well, which is something that doesn't happen often in horror movies. There's frequent, albeit brief, suggestions that place this movie in the near future; radio programs talk about increasing violence and ecological decay, one reports that the last surviving wild polar bear had died in Siberia, and every television station seen in the background has a 'breaking news' banner and blurry images of violent events. This all serves to heighten the 'Lovecraftian' horror of the story, with the madness being an ever present threat around the edges of the characters lives until it forces it's way into the center stage. The ever-present threat of rising ocean waters brings with it the implication that the world of the Deep Ones will be coming to overtake the world of man, which is a pretty clever twist.

Cthulhu was shot on DVE, which gave the theatre image a slightly blurry, out of focus look(I don't know if this will be the same for the image on a smaller television set), but made the colors incredibly bright and pure. This is a fairly low budget horror film, so anyone expecting a horror-fest like the Stuart Gordon/Brian Yuzna Lovecraft adaptations is going to be very disappointed. The effects, what little there are, are only briefly glimpsed and, at one point, slightly cheesy. Instead this film is more of a character driven drama with horror elements in it. Some of the horror elements, unfortunately, rely a little too much on the trappings of the genre, such as a scene where a little boy in front of a staticy television screen says "we're waiting... for Cthulhu" and the camera jump cuts a bit closer as he says Cthulhu. Or the crazy old aunt in a mental ward who turns away from the character, towards the camera as she starts over-emoting her forebodings of doom. Or a scene with a weird glowing tentacle thing that would look cheap no matter what, but is made slightly silly by the jump-cut and ominous, piercing string music that accompanies it. All of these scenes are played with such straight-faced seriousness that they stumble over the line and into camp, and are at odds with the tone of the rest of the film.

Speaking of things at odds with the film; Tori Spelling. The director had nothing bad to say about Tori Spelling, but I wanted to comfort him and give him my condolences that she was in this film, because her completely over the top performance suggests an alien trying to emulate femininity after watching hours of Marilyn Monroe, Betty Boop and really bad porno dialogue. I might be a bit harsh on her, but she was really, really unconvincing, and while her plotline was funny and integral, a better actor would have focused the laughs on the humor in the script, not the horrible line readings and unattractive come-ons. Aside from her, I have nothing but good things to say about most of the cast. Although some of the supporting characters ham it up a bit, the two male leads are generally well suited to the parts they play.

So in the end my rating for this film would put it around 3 out of 5 stars, which may be a bit misleading. I don't dislike this film, in fact I quite enjoyed it and plan on seeing it again when it gets an official distribution. But, due to some jarring tonal shifts and jumbled plotting it didn't fully engage me. I have high hopes that a slightly edited version, released in the spring, will improve my rating for this film. The director mentioned as his influences the films of Japanese directors Takashi Miike and Kyoshi Kurosawa. Miike I didn't spot, but anyone who enjoys the glacial pace and subtle horror of Kurosawa's films(particularly Charisma, a film I should admit I understand not a goddamn bit) will probably find a lot here to enjoy.

One last thing should be said about the sexual themes in this movie; I've been lurking around in the wastelands of the IMDB comment board, seeing what people had to say about this film. Many are purists upset at the liberties taken with the source material, and angered by the lack of tentacled monsters and outright scares(there are a few in Cthulhu, but that isn't the main focus), but a surprising amount of them are angered by the fact that the film has a publicly gay main character. This is upsetting, and surprising to me because I assumed that anyone open-minded enough to read Lovecraft, with his mind-bending mythology that isn't exactly Judea-christian friendly, should be open-minded enough to deal with a movie where two men kiss(yes, there is a love scene, and although it will gross many people out, it is filmed with more class, tenderness and romanticism than most heterosexual love scenes, and has 100% less testicles than Borat did). Some have argued that Lovecraft didn't write about sex at all, and so it should be left out of any filmed adaptations. And while that's true to a point, it should be mentioned that many of his stories dealt indirectly with bestiality. What is The Shadow Over Innsmouth about, if not a bunch of fishermen having sex with fish?

Woeful Wednesday Comics

2010-10-06T21:25:00.000-07:00

It's Wednesday, and as any nerd worth his salt knows, new comics hit the shelves today. Or, if your like me and get your comics through the mail, you come home from work to find a nice little box by your door. Me being who I am, and this being the month it is, I figured I'd take a moment to highlight a title or two that fit the holiday mood.

Releasing today is the second issue of Neonomicon, Alan Moore's official take on the Cthulhu mythos. He's flirted with Lovecraft throughout his career, allowing traces of his works to show up in League Of Extraordinary Gentlemen, but with Neonomicon he tackles the Great Old Ones head on. This is a direct sequel to his slim graphic novel The Courtyard, although each can be read separately as the first issue recaps the conclusion of that story. The Courtyard was a slim, foreboding and creepy work, but lacked a lot of the punch of some of Moore's other works. It felt, in the end, a bit half-formed. Alan Moore has written some killer short comics(Batman; the Killing Joke, Mogo Doesn't Socialize) in his days, but his strength lies primarily in his longer works, where he allows the characters to grow and your expectations to crystallize before blowing the scope and breadth of the work wide open. Although still in the 'setting the stage' phase of this four part miniseries, Neonomicon is poised to deepen the mystery and horror of this cops and Cthulhu story. In this series we follow a pair of FBI agents as they try to discover why one of the colleagues killed several people in a ritualistic manner, and now speaks in gibberish that should be familiar to most horror fans.

Now, this is released by Avatar Press, which specializes in bizarre one-off stories by high profile writers like Garth Ennis and Alan Moore. They basically provide an outlet for some of the comics these writers have in mind but can't really market to any of the larger companies. This is great in theory, but often means they're simply packaging Warren Ellis' shopping list in comic form. They also have a very small stable of artists which give most of their books a rather similar and, frankly, amateurish look. Luckily, however, Moore has been teamed with Jacen Burrows, by far the most talented and professional artist working for them. His clean and polished style contrasts wonderfully with the often horrific images he's tasked with drawing.

One thing the original Courtyard graphic novel did extremely well, and Neonomicon continues, is the very unsettling way things unfold. Both stories begin as pretty standard, although very dark and grim, police procedurals. It isn't until you get deeper into the book that the weirdness starts to really creep in. From weird psychoactive drugs, cults, and cities in domes, all this stays on the sidelines but begins, after awhile, to feel overwhelmingly, opressively horrific.

Perfect reading for this time of year.

If only I didn't have to wait two weeks for my shipment to arrive.

The 31 Days of Halloween(minus 4)

2010-10-05T21:35:00.000-07:00

I'd actually thought about doing a month-long marathon of blog posts in honor of Halloween a couple of weeks ago. It's something I attempted a couple years ago, but for various reasons did not follow through with. I attribute it to a combination of my general tendency towards procrastination and my tendency to overthink my blog posts into a state of incoherence. But then the first came, and went, and the second came and went, then of course the third and fourth followed, as they are wont to do, and still no post. But here we are, on the evening of the 5th, and I'm finally posting my first blog of the month with the stated intent to fill out the remainder of the month with daily posts. What changed? What prompted my decision to commit to this? A visit to my old friend Rik's blog, where I see he's taking part in the Countdown to Halloween, and suddenly my interests were once again piqued.

Halloween has long been my favorite holiday, although over the past few years it's been missing the magic I remember from my childhood years. I would try to recapture that childhood feeling of warm, comforting creepiness here and there, by making annual Halloween playlists to take into work(Rhino's Brain In A Box set helped immeasurably in that regard), I would invite people over for horror movie marathons, and I'd go out of my way to rewatch old favorites. But something was missing, and I think it's finally starting to come back.

My daughter is 6 now, and she's reached that age where Halloween is something she proactively takes an interest in, beyond just getting candy. She plans her costumes almost a year in advance, and has recently taken an interest in 'scary' movies. Now, I'm not about to start showing her the Saw movies, or John Carpenter's The Thing(although, come to think of it, I was YOUNGER than her when I first saw that one), but we've already had some Godzilla marathons(starting with the original, and then moving on to some of the more recent action-fests), and she's watched some of the old Universal classics with me. So this year I've decided to go out of my way to make Halloween as special as it was when I was a kid, staying up late to watch the horror movies that populated the after-midnight scheduling of all local channels. We may not watch a scary movie every night, and probably wont, but I'm planning on squeezing in as many we can over the next 27 days.

I plan on, starting tomorrow, filling this blog out with some of my favorite things about Halloween, some spooky true stories, and a running guide of what I'm introducing my daughter to, along with some of her thoughts on them. All this and some lists to program some killer Halloween marathons and, of course, ideas for your next mixtape. Stay tuned as I try to recapture that Halloween magic.

The Daily Outrage: Alaska Vs. Starving Children

2010-06-10T21:31:00.000-07:00

I consider myself to be a fairly optimistic person. I may not always seem like it, because I love to talk about bad news and am generally introverted and, shall we say, not cheerful, but I tend to think the best of things. I feel that as bad as things in this world are, we wake up each day with the chance and power to fix it. There are, however, times when a news story crosses my path that fills me with bottomless rage and despair for the human race. Most often these stories involve a major oil company, or Sarah Palin, but this one merely involves someone associated with Palin; her former lieutenant governor(and current Alaska governor) Sean Parnell.

Recently Sean Parnell vetoed a bill that would have increased funding to Denali KidCare by 2.9 million dollars, a move which would have covered an additional 1,300 children and 218 pregnant women. For those who don't know, Denali KidCare is a program that provides care and aid to children and expectant mothers in low income families. It's a program very dear to my heart, because it helped Amber and I immeasurably when Pandora was born. Amber lost her job early into her pregnancy, and was having trouble finding a new one when she would have to take maternity leave so soon. And, truth be told, neither of us wanted to both be working full time, so I picked up a couple extra jobs so Amber could stay home. I was, for a time, working three jobs. A couple days a week I would be working 20 hours a day, biking between jobs that were on opposite ends of town, and sleeping for a few minutes here and there in the backroom at work. And still I was having trouble making ends meet. Technically I should have been above the poverty line, but I could barely pay the phone bill, let alone afford the medical care Amber and my unborn daughter required.

With Denali KidCare, Amber was able to stay home through the last half of her pregnancy, and almost the first year of Pandora's life. We were able to afford regular checkups for the both of them with a family practitioner, and we never had to worry about having essentials like bread, milk, eggs, cheese, or pre-natal vitamins. Without Denali KidCare, I can't honestly say we would have been able to have all of that. It is a program that I credit for the fact that I have a healthy 6 year old tearing up my house. Surprisingly, I'm thankful.

So, why would Sean Parnell veto a program that provides such a desperately needed service to thousands of struggling children? Because he discovered that some of Denali KidCare's money goes towards 'abortion related services'. Some of you probably agree with this decision, or at the very least can understand why a republican governor up for re-election would take a stand on a topic sure to please his party. But here's the kicker; Denali KidCare only spends about .18% of their annual budget on abortions, or abortion related services. And that phrase, abortion related services, is important; the money spent went towards services like medical consultation, and counseling for women interested in abortion, and only covered abortions when medically necessary. Meaning, abortions would only be covered under Denali KidCare when the pregnancy threatened the life of the mother. And there's more: Denali Kid Care is legally required to cover medically necessary abortions due to a 2001 State Supreme Court ruling that stipulates any program providing medically necessary care cannot discriminate in the case of abortions.

But let's say that Denali KidCare did cover 'elective abortions'(whatever that means- I've never met anyone who wants an abortion), so what? What gives Sean Parnell the right to deny funding to a program that provides a helpful, and legal, service, simply because he personally disagrees with it? He's an elected official, not an arbiter of culture or values. This was not a moral decision on Parnell's part, this was pandering to his political party. But here he's radically misjudged the situation. He's standing up for his 'beliefs' against a program that not only doesn't violate those beliefs, but actively works to uphold them. Nobody wants an abortion; they're a final resort for people who see themselves as unable to care for a child. If low income expectant mothers have a lifeline in Denali KidCare, a program that would provide them with help when they most desperately need it, there would be remarkably fewer abortions.

This is an outrage, and Sean Parnell needs to hear from us on this. The State Senate also needs our input, as they are reluctant to override Parnell's decision. So I urge everyone reading this to email Parnell and our senators at the addresses listed below and share your feelings on the subject.

Addresses and phone numbers for all members of the Alaska State Legislature can be found here: http://w3.legis.state.ak.us/senate/senate.php

Sean Parnell can be reached here: http://gov.alaska.gov/parnell/contact/email-the-governor.html

And you can even find him on Facebook, here: http://gov.alaska.gov/parnell/contact/email-the-governor.html

Superman's Dark Desire

2010-06-07T21:22:00.000-07:00

The characters of Nightwing and Flamebird in the DC universe have a bit of a complicated back story, with at least half a dozen separate characters taking on each of those names. For example, the Nightwing and Flamebird that are currently the focus of Action Comics not that Superman is off in New Krypton bear no relation to the Nightwing of the Batman comics, which is the costumed identity of Dick Grayson, the first Robin(although he was inspired by the characters, who were inactive at the time he chose the mantle). Basically the names Nightwing and Flamebird are archetypal, and many people have taken over the mantle in order to give a symbolic weight to their heroic antics.

But that's not how the characters first saw light way back in the early sixties.

In the Superman comics of the 60s and 70s, Supes and his pal Jimmy Olsen had a series of adventures in the Kryptonian city of Kandor, which had been shrunken down and bottled by the villain Brainiac. In this miniature city Superman had no superpowers, and through some weird misunderstanding he was branded an outlaw, so he fashioned himself a new identity based on a bird native to Krypton; Nightwing. Jimmy Olsen joined in as Flamebird, and together they became a famous vigilante duo, fighting crime and righting wrongs.

The implication is clear: Superman's secret desire is to be Batman, and he roped Jimmy Olsen into his role-play fantasies as his own Robin. This is a theory pretty much confirmed by the comic itself; the persona's of Nightwing and Flamebird conform to the Batman and Robin iconography, with Nightwing in all black and Flamebird in bright oranges and yellows. Instead of a Batcave they have a Nightcave, and a Nightmobile instead of a batmobile. If that wasn't explicit enough, Superman chooses the name Nightwing because there are no bats on Krypton, so the name Batman would just confuse people.

But wait, there's more!

In post-Crisis continuity(for the non-comic nerds, Crisis on Infinite Earths was an event that spanned every DC Comics title in the mid-eighties, ending in a massive rewrite of the continuity up to that point, in an effort to streamline the comics and in some ways start from scratch) Nightwing and Flamebird were re-written as part of the Kyrptonian creation myth. Nightwing and Flamebird are part of a trinity of servants to Rao, the Kryptonian god(the third servant would be Vohc, the Breaker). Each generation, the essences of Nightwing and Flamebird are reborn in two individuals with a great love for each other that is doomed to end tragically in death.

I'm not quite sure how Jimmy and Supes fit into that equation.

An Abominable Birthday

2010-05-27T18:58:00.000-07:00

Vincent Price is probably the one celebrity I regret never having the chance to meet. His screen presence- a unique mix of gravitas and winking flamboyance - never really masked a genuine(if slight) creepiness. Yet he seemed so genuine, so pleasant, and he was always so much fun to watch. Today would have been Vincent Price's 99th birthday, and in honor of the occasion I plan on using my long Memorial Day weekend to catch up on a few of his many films that I haven't seen. I also plan on revisiting some old favorites, so for those interested in hosting their own celebratory film fest at home, here's a short list of personal Vincent Price favorites.

The Masque of the Red Death: Vincent Price was already a horror icon by the time he started making adaptations of Edgar Allen Poe stories with director Roger Corman, but it might be this pairing that most informed his popular image. In all, they made 8 Poe films together, and they proved immensely popular. They all hold something to recommend them-The Fall of the House of Usher in particular has some wonderfully spooky monologues from Price- but none of them quite reach the heights that Red Death does. Corman's horror films were always slightly campy, and usually had some experimental, psychedelics moments, but Red Death drops camp in favor of majesty, while still allowing for a trippy dream sequence. Vincent Price reins his performance- as a sadistic prince who throws a party while the plague ravages the countryside outside his castle walls- in to a level usually reserved for his non-horror films, and Corman matches that tone and allows the film to maintain a sense of creeping, mounting dread.

The Tingler: William Castle was a much better showman than a director, and once removed from the theatrical gimmicks his films often seem horribly creaky and dull. The Tingler miraculously escapes that rut with a nifty idea for a monster(one that kills and can only be thwarted by the sound of screaming) and a few in-film gimmicks that still live up, like the one shocking scene that utilizes color in an otherwise black and white film.

The Abominable Dr. Phibes: Not only my favorite Vincent Price films, but one of my favorite horror films period. Price plays Dr. Phibes, a disfigured man who is presumed dead, and uses this to his advantage as he systematically kills off the physicians who he believes allowed his wife to die, utilizing a series of complicated Rube Goldberg devices meant to mimic the biblical plagues. The film is ultra-stylish, and it maintains a pretty fun tone throughout, with an acidic sense of humor befitting the grand guignol style. Avoid the sequel, which is for completists only.

Laura: Price only plays a supporting character in this film, a top-notch film noir from Otto Preminger, but it's interesting to see him in a non menacing role. Aside from suave, menacing characters, Price excelled at sheltered, dandyish blue-bloods, which is what he plays in Laura, as the fiance of a murdered advertising executive. The film is all about police detective Mark McPherson investigating the death of Laura Hunt, and slowly falling in love with the woman the more he learns about her, but Price steals the show in every scene he's in.

The Baron of Arizona: A fatally flawed film, Samuel Fuller's second as director, The Baron of Arizona features a great performance from Vincent Price in the lead. The story(very loosely based on true events) is interesting, but the film repeatedly shows AND tells through a completely unnecessary voice over. Though the film ultimately fails, it has a standout performance and a couple great scenes to recommend it.

Movie of the Day: Lake Mungo & Zombies of Mass Destruction

2010-05-16T12:22:00.000-07:00

2010 marks the fourth year in the After Dark Horrorfest, an annual collection of 8 independently produced horror films grouped together to give them a higher profile. Previous years have seen the horrorfest in nationwide theatrical release, but these days the films usually get a week long release in one theatre and a quick DVD turnaround. In theory I love the idea of the ADHF; an attempt to give 8 struggling indie film-makers per year some well deserved recognition. In execution, though, the films leave much to be desired. Horror has long been the genre of choice for up-and-coming directors looking to make an impression; Sam Raimi, James Cameron, Joe Dante, Guillermo Del Toro and Jonathan Demme all got their start with low-budget horror or exploitation productions. The problem with ADHF is that while their motivations may be honest, the enterprise is ruled by economics. This leads them to pick movies that mimic or aspire to fit in with the big budgeted stuff Hollywood is putting out these days, so the lineup is usually a mixture of bland Saw knockoffs or bland zombie films. And yet I keep watching them, or at least a couple of them, every year, because you never know when you might stumble across the next John Carpenter.

But that act of slogging through the crap to get to the good stuff CAN be hellish. Most of my friends have given up entirely on the series, and these days I usually just pick and choose which films I watch(for the first couple years I tried to watch each of them). I have been uniformly disappointed by each entry in the series, with the exception of From Within, and even that film could only really be called successful when graded on a curve with the rest of that series. A few of my friends quite enjoyed Mulberry Street, but I felt that outside of the clever Were-Rat premise, the film was a fairly typical(and oddly humorless) zombie film. So this year, with 8 new films to choose from, I read a few brief rundowns and picked two of the most promising titles; Zombies of Mass Destruction and Lake Mungo.

It's clear that the makers of Zombies of Mass Destruction took most of the right lessons from Romero's zombie epics; a focus on flawed and disparate individuals standing against a zombie horde that can be seen as a metaphor for any number of perceived social ills, and a fairly healthy dose of gallows humor. I can not stress enough how much a little bit of humor can elevate a shitty zombie film. In this film, the zombies are a physical manifestation of the xenophobia and religious fervor that swept America during the darkest points of the Bush years, as a small secluded community is overrun by the walking dead. With a pretty healthy sense of humor, and a target ripe for satire, the writers(Ramon Isao and Kevin Hamedani, who also directed) drop the ball with their sense of timing. A gag that could have been hilarious, as when the rural pastor awkwardly and cheerfully welcomes his congregation to the apocalypse and is met by sporadic but ecstatic applause, isn't even chuckleworthy because of it's indifferent presentation. And this problem doesn't just affect the humor, but the horror and action scenes as well. There's no real visual style other than 'put camera here, lets get it on film, and go home.' Those problems don't always have to kill a film. Plenty of borderline inept films are much more enjoyable than ZOMD turned out to be, but in this case the slapdash execution smothers any of the modestly good ideas.

The second of this years ADHF films I rented was Lake Mungo, which isn't a title that really grabs your attention. To call Lake Mungo the best film of the entire ADHF run would be faint praise indeed, since those films can most generously be called 'aggressively mediocre.' But against all expectations, Lake Mungo turned out to not only be a good film, but maybe even a great one(I only say 'maybe' because I am easily swayed by the manner and circumstances in which I watch a movie, and this one was viewed in a manner very conducive to my enjoyment of creepy and sad entertainment)

Lake Mungo is an Australian film, fashioned like a modern documentary, chronicling what one family goes through when the eldest daughter drowns. Shortly after her death, the teenage girl begins popping up in the background of photos and videos taken at places she used to frequent, and her family begins investigating the possibility that their daughter may be trying to communicate with them. The film mainly avoids comparisons to the Blair Witch Project by not acting as sensationalistic 'found footage', but as an actual documentary you would see on the Discovery Channel, or PBS, complete with unseen interviewers and interviews with friends and neighbors. This of course means the film never becomes very scary; there are no moments in which you're filled with tension or nail biting fear. What the film has instead is tons of creepy atmosphere, and a mournful sadness that you rarely find in genre films of this nature. It's the sadness that gets you, as the unbearable loneliness of the family(and the dead daughter) grows and crystallizes over the course of the film. Lake Mungo is a bit like Twin Peaks rendered into a ghost story, with a family's investigations into their daughter's secret life revealing mysteries they might wish they didn't know. By the end, the point isn't to scare the audience, but to show what happens when the living(and dead) refuse to let go of each other.

I've just read that both films are due to be remade for a higher budget 2011 release. In the case of Zombies of Mass Destruction I think this might be beneficial, but a big budget remake of Lake Mungo will most likely ruin what made that film so special, turning a gentle little film into a hyperbolic Paranormal Activity

Movie of the Day: Paranoid Park

2010-04-07T19:58:00.000-07:00

I have often said that I am not a Gus Van Sant, and I've often had mildly humorous, disparaging things to say about him. I've slowly come to accept that my opinion may be a bit harsh, and very premature. I say this because I'm basing my entire opinion on his lengthy career(which includes 14 feature films, and many short films and music videos) on only two movies; Even Cowgirls Get the Blues and his pointless Psycho remake. Beyond that, I can honestly say that none of his films interested me in the slightest. I've seen parts of My Own Private Idaho, and I can appreciate his influence and attraction to others, I've just never thought he was for me, nor have I ever had the inclination to test that theory. Until last Sunday, that is, when I happened to channel surf over to the opening of Paranoid Park and, well, decided to test that theory.

The movie grabbed me fairly early on, with it's drifting camera, dreamy music and fractured chronology. The movie's timeline jumps around a bit, taking a roundabout path to the story. This is more than just an overused stylistic trick, though, as the jumbled timeline reflects the mental pathways of Alex, the teenaged main character, as he documents recent events in his journal, building up slowly to the main tragedy in the film. It's clear very early in the film that Alex was involved in the tragic death of a security guard on some railroad tracks near a popular and infamous skate park(the Paranoid Park of the title), but we don't actually see this event until near the end of the film. Alex is writing his journal as a letter, an apology that no one will read, and he isn't ready yet to face the death head on, he needs to circle around it as he tries to make sense of it.

In a way, Paranoid Park is a perfect, if extreme, metaphor for the lives of every teenager. Alex is drifting, and feels, like most of us do/did, as if he's incapable of forging his own life, and is instead at the mercy of forces he doesn't understand. In reality, he's making decisions even when he doesn't realize it, and by the end of the film, although the future looks wide open, a large part of his life is already written.

Paranoid Park hasn't exactly made me a Gus Van Sant convert; Even Cowgirls Get The Blues is still an inexcusable piece of excrement, but it has made me think I should maybe go back and catch some of his more well regarded films, just to see what I'm missing. That said, I still reserve the right to make fun of the fact that middle-age, openly-gay Van Sant found his cast by cruising skate parks and myspace for teenage boys. Seriously, how creepy is that?

Rating: 4 out of 5

Movie of the Day: Sanshiro Sugata 2

2010-04-05T18:49:00.000-07:00

Kurosawa has said: "This film did not interest me in the slightest. I had already done it once. This was just warmed-over." It is considerably worse than merely warmed-over. In it we have what the original Sugata might have been had an ordinary director done it.
From The Films of Akira Kurosawa(3rd edition) by Donald Richie

Now, it may be that this film was forced on Kurosawa, and that he wasn't incredibly interested in it, but Sanshiro Sugata 2 isn't quite deserving of the sentiments stated above. During his lengthy career, Kurosawa directed only two sequels; this and Sanjuro, the lesser-known(but possibly even more awesome) sequel to Yojimbo. While Sugata 2 isn't quite as essential as Sanjuro, and maybe not as good a film as it's predecessor, but it's unfair to discount it entirely for those reasons. So allow me to offer some minor dissent among the critical community.

The original Sanshiro Sugata, produced in 1943, had to adhere to strict postwar censorship which forbid the mention of anything Western. Sugata 2, on the other hand, is pure propaganda, and from the very first scene it's obvious that the film's stance on Westerners is decidedly negative. The film opens with Sugata rescuing a young rickshaw driver from being mercilessly beaten by an American sailor in only the first of many ugly caricatures of Westerners. There are two story lines in this film that run concurrently, although they never really connect in any way. The first is Sugata's moral dilemma as he struggles to show that Japanese martial arts are superior to Western boxing without breaking his dojo's rule about never fighting for pay or entertainment. The second is about Sugata's moral dilemma as he struggles to defend his honor against a pair of brothers(the brothers of the first film's villain, who is now infirm after his battle with Sugata) who have challenged him without breaking his dojo's rule about never entering into duels. Obviously it will become clear that neither of these dilemmas are problems after all. Both of these stories are fairly common to this type of film, and there's nothing new or fresh about them, but that doesn't mean the film containing them is not entertaining.

Though the film's story is generic, and the sentiment seems more dictated by propaganda than any artistic desire, the package is nevertheless pretty well put together. Kurosawa never seems visually bored, and continues with the same mature, confident style he'd shown off in the first film, and keeps things moving at a pretty brisk pace. There's even a scene where Sugata says goodbye to his beloved that edits out everything he says, so that we get the gist of the entire conversation through her questions and reactions to his answers. The fight scenes are typical Japanese showdowns, meaning they're long on shots of men circling each other, leading up to one or two quick blows, followed by either more circling, or an end to the match. None of them quite live up to the fight scenes in the original film, although the final snowbound duel has some good shots in it.

Sanshiro Sugata 2 was Kurosawa working basically as a director for hire, which means that yes, it isn't one of his greater films. In fact, I'd have to admit that it's probably only for people who are already fans. But you know what? Screw the haters, I still enjoyed myself through every minute of the film.

Rating: 3 out of 5

Movie of the Day: The House of the Devil

2010-04-01T22:40:00.001-07:00

As a child that was too nervous and squeamish to watch scary movies, it wasn't until the early 90s that I began to develop a taste and tolerance for horror movies. Most of this expansion of attitude can be credited to numerous sleepovers with a group of cousins who had HBO. Through the magic of pay-cable I first ventured into the world of R rated monster movies, starting with A Nightmare on Elm Street 4. My cousins, knowing of my squeamishness, assured me that it was funny, and had more in common with a scary adventure film than a true horror film. And they were correct. Or, they were at least correct in the assumption that once I relaxed and sat down to enjoy the film, I found I was pretty much entertained throughout. I also watched Nightbreed during one of these sleepovers, and while Nightmare 4 showed me that horror movies didn't have to be as imposing as I'd built them up in my mind, Nightbreed more than anything else changed how I perceived horror films. Instead of seeing them as just terrifying nightmare inducers, I began to see the beauty and romance in horror(which of course is a recurring theme in every Clive Barker story).

Owing to the time period in which I began experiencing horror movies, I obviously saw a lot from the 80s, and a fair amount of them were of course slasher films. But slasher films have never been my favorite subgenre. Unless the film has something special to recommend it(Halloween's Hitchcockian suspense, Nightmare's decidedly supernatural surrealism), I find nothing more boring than a horror movie about some crazy dude slicing up coeds. Slasher films are generally nothing more than murder and nudity delivery devices, and that's usually all they aspire to. That's fine, and I admit I've enjoyed some of them from time to time, but I can find nudity and clever death scenes in movies that have plot and originality, also. So although I am not necessarily the target audience for Ti West's nostalgia tinged 'House of the Devil', I nevertheless found myself sucked into it's pervasive creepiness.

'The House of the Devil' is a slasher film aimed straight at those people who grew up watching Halloween, Sleepaway Camp, or Friday the 13th, but without the post-modern irony of Scream, Cabin Fever, or even Rob Zombie's wholehearted odes to late 70s sleaze. In 'House', the details are key, from the book-sized walkman to the feathered hair. From the font of the opening credits to the ever-so-slightly grainy film stock, giving the movie a visual depth that few films these days attain. 'House of the Devil' is a love letter to the bottom of the horror barrel, but it's treated with the care and reverence of a Hitchcock film, making it more in line with John Carpenter's Halloween than the slew of lesser slasher films.

The House of the Devil spends the majority of it's running time doing nothing much at all. From the very beginning it's obvious that something is wrong and bad things are coming, and there's an early shock that puts the stakes into sharp focus, but most of the time we're just following a babysitter wandering around a large, possibly empty house; ordering pizza, watching TV, peaking into cupboards and closed bedrooms. This will very possibly bore many people, especially when they realize the scares aren't exactly forthcoming. Me? I found it deliciously nerve-wracking, and strangely inviting. 'House' attains a tactile presence that I found strangely inviting; it portrayed a world I would love to live in(of course, without the bloody satanic sacrifices. Or possibly with them, depending on which side of that equation I ended up on). The film hit that sweet spot of haunting creepiness, the suggestion of something terrifying without blatantly hitting you over the head with it. So it was a bit of a letdown when the finale of the film fell in line with what I usually expect from a slasher film. To be fair, most critics found the final 20 minutes relentlessly terrifying, but I found it overwrought and too on the nose, where the rest of the film had been all about subtlety and suggestion. Still, that's pretty much what you have to do when you make a movie in this mold.

Rating: 4 out of 5. I originally rated this a notch lower, because the ending left a bad taste in my mouth, but that first hour or so is really something fantastic.

Movie of the Day: The Bermuda Depths

2010-03-31T21:12:00.000-07:00

As a child I was extremely terrified of horror movies, and yet I was intensely interested in all things supernatural or creepy. Although I ran into another room on the rare occassions when my mom would watch a horror film(she isn't a horror fan, but I distinctly remember hiding in my bedroom during Friday the 13th part 2 and Fright Night), I thrilled whenever my braver friends would describe films like Alien or The Stuff. I read a ton of horror books, and scoured the library for books about 'real' supernatural phenomena, from Bigfoot to UFO's to voodoo(in 6th grade I became quite obsessed with voodoo, or at least the mostly fictionalized version you find in western entertainment). I pored over books ABOUT horror or science fiction movies, particularly the ones with a large middle section devoted to photographs. Although I wasn't ready for the films themselves, I memorized the alien landscapes from plenty of those movies.

The main problem wasn't that I was a particularly frightened child, but that I startled easy. Ask Amber, I jump at any goddamn thing, in any goddamn movie. Romantic comedies, family films, melodramas; if it has a loud noise and sudden movie I involuntarily react by jumping out of my skin. Thankfully I can only think of two instances where I screamed aloud(Audition at home, and The Others in the theatre). This intense nervousness, coupled with my love of all things paranormal, goes a long way towards explaining my fondness for The Bermuda Depths, a live action television movie by Rankin/Bass(the people behind most of the stop-motion Christmas specials you remember from your childhood) first aired two weeks before my birth. It was supernatural and slightly creepy without ever trying to be scary, so it was safe for me to sit through.

I can't remember exactly when I first saw The Bermuda Depths, but it was certainly in the mid-80s, and my memory tells me that it was hosted by Elvira. I can't find any proof that Elvira actually presented this movie on one of her shows, but I'm pretty sure I'm correct. Although I only saw it once in elementary school, the film stuck with me for decades, and stayed with me in a very deep, personal way that most films never did, eve superior films that I enjoy more. The film represented some tragic, romantic ideal that haunted me for years, to the point that whenever I heard the sound of Humpback Whales I'd feel an intense longing for something indefinable that I knew I would never reach, or even know what it was.

My rhapsodic comments here are probably giving you the idea that this is some lost classic that fell through the cracks unjustly, but you'd be wrong. The Bermuda Depths is by no means awful - watching it recently for the first time in at least 20 years, it actually surpassed meager expectations- but it is really, really cheesy. Leigh McCloskey plays Magnus, who returns to his childhood home troubled by memories of a vague accident at his old home, which now lies in a crumbling ruin on a cliff overlooking the ocean. He meets up with Eric(Carl Weathers), an old friend now working as a grad student researching marine life, and Jenny(Connie Seleca), a mysterious, possibly dead woman he remembers playing with as a child, but who most people believe doesn't exist. And there's a giant turtle. Big. Gamera big, although this one doesn't fly.

Describing the movie more would do no good; either you saw it years ago and fell in love, or you've never seen it and watching it now would do nothing for you. The Bermuda Depths is not a very well known film, so you probably never saw it. It doesn't have much in the way of critical discussion, and the only two sources I found that weren't anonymous internet bloggers did not speak highly of it. There's a fairly intense group of people who love this movie(look up the discussions on IMDb, some people are writing poetry about it!), and I have to admit I'm one of them, but I'm assuming that, like me, they all saw this movie at a formative point in their lives. I'm glad that I now own the movie on DVD(through Warner's DVD On Demand service), and I'm glad Amber watched it with me. It's something I actually look forward to visiting again, but mainly I'm glad to have had those memories, haunting me for my adult life.

Rating: 3.5 out of 5 with the understanding that it'd probably be lower if without the nostalgia factor.

Movie of the Day: Libeled Lady

2010-03-30T20:44:00.000-07:00

Personally, I would have been just fine if every comedy of the 30s and 40s starred William Powell and Myrna Loy. They epitomize for me the suave, witty, droll attitudes I find so entertaining in many movies from that era. I love their manner of bickering, that can never mask the affection beneath, but also never becomes as trite and treacly as their more modern counterparts. Their constant boozing in the Thin Man series never strikes me as alcoholic in nature(which, if anyone tried to replicate it in real life, it most certainly would be), but is instead charming and lovable. And speaking of drinking, has there ever been a better on-screen drunk than William Powell? Possibly, but I can't think of any right now. He only has one scene in My Man Godfrey where he gets really drunk, but his glowering, sudden appearance as he comes home sloshed in that film makes me laugh just thinking about it. Counting the Thin Man series as one movie, William Powell and Myrna Loy made 9 movies together(counting the Thin Man series that number rises to 14!), and Libeled Lady was their 6th pairing.

The basic plot is anything but basic, so try to keep up: a newspaper prints a false story about rich socialite Connie Allenbury(Myrna Loy) breaking up a marriage. Connie then sues the paper for libel for 5 million dollars. The newspaper hires libel expert(and ladies man) Bill Chandler(William Powell) to find a way out of the suit. His solution; to marry Gladys Benton(Jean Harlow, William Powell's girlfriend at the time), the long suffering girlfriend of newspaperman Warren Haggerty(Spencer Tracy, and let's take a moment to admire this cast). After getting fake-married, Bill would ingratiate himself into Connie's favor, and find some way of getting into a compromising position with her just in time for his fake-wife to burst in. Then, the story would be true, and Connie would be a home-wrecker after all. Predictably, Connie and Bill fall in love, and Gladys falls for her fake husband Bill. Got it? Yes, the plot is horribly convoluted beyond any logical point, even for a screwball comedy. The producers here were hoping to complicate the original screwball template not by changing the formula, but by doubling it with two mismatched pairings.

I hate to borrow directly from another person's review of a movie I'm trying to write about, but in this case I just have to quote from Variety's original review from 1936: "Even though Libeled Lady goes overboard on plot and its pace snags badly in several spots, Metro has brought in a sockeroo of a comedy." I quote that mainly because I like the dated slang in the review, but also because it's surprisingly accurate. The plot eventually leads to all sorts of door slamming and racing this way and that, but getting there can be a bit of a slog. The pacing IS a bit weak, and a lot of the humor is distressingly broad, like in a scene where William Powell has to pretend to be a master fly-fisherman to impress Myrna Loy's father. The exaggerated pratfalls may be par for the course, but aren't exactly what I look for in these films.

Although the finale piles complication on top of complication, the solution is distressingly sudden and fades to black in less than a minute. Still, with those(actually fairly minor) problems aside, the film has plenty to recommend it. The rapport between Powell and Loy is as acidic and endearing as usual, and the fast-paced dialogue holds plenty of zingers.

Final Rating: 3.5 out of 5

Movie of the Day: Scream of Fear

2010-03-29T17:23:00.000-07:00

Scream of Fear(also released as Taste of Fear) opens with a scene of Scottish policemen dragging a lake and coming up with the body of a young girl. This scene will go unexplained for a short while, as the post credits sequence starts with a different young woman in a wheelchair arriving in France to live with her father(who she hasn't seen in over ten years) and stepmother(who she has never met). It turns out the drowned girl was her roommate, and she committed suicide, leaving our heroine, Penny, severely shaken and seeking the comfort and support of home and family. She is met at the airport by her father's chauffeur, Bob, and taken to meet her stepmother, who informs her that her father has gone away on some private affair. Soon, however, Penny begins seeing her father's corpse in various disused rooms of the house, and although everyone is quick to blame the visions on stress, Bob starts helping her research her father's disappearance and a sinister plot takes form.

This is one of those movies I recorded from TCM not because I'd heard anything special about it(in fact, until I saw it on my TV guide I'd never even heard of it), but because it was one of the earlier horror films produced by Hammer Studios, produced on the heels of their big success reinterpreting the old Universal mainstays(Frankenstein, Dracula and the Wolf Man). With a Hammer film from that era your pretty much guaranteed to run into Christopher Lee and/or Peter Cushing, and sure enough, Scream of Fear features an impossibly young Christopher Lee in one of the better acting jobs he's done. That's no slight on Mr. Lee, I find him enjoyable in everything he's done, but he usually plays the same character in each film. He has immense gravity, but very little range. He actually stretches a bit in here, and even tries on a French accent!

The best thing about watching movies with no prior knowledge is the fact that you never know what your going to get. While the plot of Scream of Fear features a main twist that most viewers will likely see coming very early, particular those who have seen Gaslight, it still has a few twists and turns in store. I can honestly say that although I saw through the villains' nefarious plot, a few late minute reveals genuinely caught me by surprise. Scream of Fear is one of Hammer's more masterful productions, combining some low-key, eerie direction with a pretty solid story and performances.

Movie of the Day: A Bit of Throat Clearing

2010-03-28T22:51:00.000-07:00

One of the many questions that have arisen because of modern technology is; how the hell have I lasted so long without a DVR?! We got our DVR around Christmastime, and within a week it was over 50% full. For the past few months it hasn't once dropped below 80%, as I frantically try to keep up with the ever increasing amount of movies I need to see. The television shows are easy; I have a handful that I watch weekly, but Amber also watches them with me so they're easy to knock out in the few hours between our daughter's bedtime and when we finally pass out. The hours and hours of movies are a bit more problematic, because most of these films don't particularly interest Amber, and I have to find time for them; watching some in bits and pieces while on my lunch break. The majority of the films are from TCM, and run the gamut from stone classics(Sunset Boulevard) to minor affairs featuring a star or director who's work I enjoyed in other films(A Libeled Lady, featuring another pairing between Myrna Loy and William Powell). It's a fantastic opportunity which, along with Netflix, is allowing me to increase my knowledge of film history in leaps and bounds.

The minor problem here is that I find myself relating to the movies I see in a slightly different way, or at least the way I process them is different. I find that they don't stick with me quite as well as they used to, and in part I think that's because I've stopped writing about them regularly. For me, writing about something has always been a way to explore certain ideas and opinions and help fix the topic in my mind. I can talk much more knowledgeably on a subject if I've written a few paragraphs about it than if I'd read a book or two and then gone on with my life. So here we come to Movie of the Day. I can't guarantee that this(possibly endless) project will actually be daily, but I can guarantee I'm going to try and stick to it. The posts will also probably not be very long; some of them, like today's, may be two-or-three paragraph 'pellet' reviews, only slightly longer than the short rundown I post on facebook about said movie. But then again, some of them may be multi-page monsters(although if I want to keep this close to daily, I doubt they'll get very long). The point isn't to break new critical ground, but to keep my writing muscles in shape, and try to appreciate the movies I watch in a more well rounded way.

This last month saw what would have been the 100th birthday of Akira Kurosawa, one of the most famous and influential of Japanese directors, and a personal favorite of mine since I stumbled upon Yojimbo in my freshman year at UAA. In honor of his birthday, TCM has been airing weekly marathons of Kurosawa's work, and not just the famous ones like Seven Samurai and Rashomon, but a lot of his lesser known early works as well. Right now a large chunk of my DVR is devoted to every Kurosawa movie TCM aired that I hadn't already watched multiple times. This is wonderful news for me, because despite the fact that I frequently cite Kurosawa as one of the best director's to ever live, I'd previously only seen 9 of his 32 surviving films(several of his early films are forever lost to shoddy archiving and the ravages of time). I watched a few of them over the last week, and look forward to possibly spending an upcoming weekend on the couch catching up with the rest.

One of the movies I've watched so far is Sanshiro Sugata, Kurosawa's first film as director. The title character is a man who goes to town hoping to learn Jujitsu but trains instead in Judo after being impressed by the teacher's skill and attitude. Although it doesn't quite rival the majority of Kurosawa's films I've seen so far, it is surprising in how good it is, particularly for a first-time director. The film is assured and competent in a way that never quite becomes showy, and showcases an early form of the style that would influence so many. While a pretty scratchy print mars some scenes(more on this below), it's still easy to see Kurosawa's skill at framing a shot. During an early scene Yano-sensei, the Judo master, is ambushed by a rival school. Before the fight begins, there is a tracking shot where his attackers pace, and the camera follows one walking towards the right of the frame, and then another walking towards the left. Through this shot we see the various attitudes and poses of the assailants, and we see an example of Kurosawa's defining trait as a director; conciseness. Even when his movies tip the 3 hour mark, there isn't a wasted frame. Every shot conveys multiple pieces of information.

The tale is never more than mere popcorn entertainment, owing to the government censorship of postwar Japan that strictly regulated the film industry and allowed mainly for innocuous melodramas and discouraged political or social relevance. In fact, 17 minutes were excised from this film by the Japanese government, which may account for a couple of oddly chosen title cards that give information about events that logically should have been shown to us(including a hilariously cavalier mention of the title character's crippling depression and long struggle back into the world of the living).

The picture quality for this film(which comes from the Criterion print, meaning it's the best one in existence that they know about so far) is at times lacking, though rarely distractingly so. In fact it only really becomes a problem during an early fight scene that takes place at night. The scene loses a lot of it's power due to the fact that you can't really see what's happening half the time. Overall the movie may be best for Kurosawa devotees, but I'd still recommend it to anyone with an interest in Japanese cinema, particularly from a historical standpoint.

Hey! Check out this thing I did!

2009-08-01T23:49:00.001-07:00

Hey! Check out this thing I did. Oh, and Amber helped. Actually, it may be more accurate to say that Amber did this, but I'm taking credit because because it was my idea. Well, it was OUR idea, but I took care of the technical aspects. Except, well, she did the photoshop stuff. Uhm.... I chose the words to put in Cathulhu's balloons. Except she ended up editing that for space.

Hmmm....

Anyway, check out this totally awesome thing that I totally did all by myself!

The Call of Cathulhu!

A Musical Interlude: 8-track Experiment #1

2009-05-09T22:35:00.001-07:00

Forgive or Forget; Part One

2009-05-07T20:33:00.000-07:00

When it comes to horror films, I'm willing to forgive quite a few things the movie going public would probably protest, things that I would find inexcusable in more mainstream fare. In fact I will often embrace these supposed faults. Frequently wooden line readings by non-actors? I actually quite enjoy the rhythms and cadences common to horror films, which are(major exceptions aside) usually lower budget and profile. Predictable plot twists, a tendency to go off the rails plot-wise, and willfully ignoring character development? All problems that I won't even notice for several possible reasons.

The reasons vary from film to film, and may not always make logical sense; sometimes the reasons don't apply at all, and I'll just flat out hate a movie for reasons I will excuse in another. I make no claims to consistency. If a horror film lacks a certain amount of originality, but is competently made and done with affection, I'll go along with it whole-heartedly. Likewise, if the film is completely slapdash and borderline incompetent, I will forgive that if it at the very least goes to some interesting places. Sometimes all it requires is one scene to bring me over to the movie's side. The Angry Red Planet is, by all accounts, a pretty mediocre example of '50s sci-fi, but it features some pretty excellent creature designs by Alex Toth, so I display it proudly in my collection. Dr. Phibes Rises Again is an utterly worthless sequel to a fantastic film, completely pointless throughout, but it has a last minute reveal that, while it doesn't redeem the film, at least raises the stakes dramatically, so I'm not about to purge it from my collection just yet.

The same theory applies to Seance, an early film by existential horror filmmaker Kiyoshi Kurosawa(although it's unfair to call him a horror filmmaker, as he's made more movies outside of that mold than in it), director of the unnerving Cure, and one of my personal favorites Pulse. Seance is in many ways the most straightforward film Kurosawa has made; the story of a man and his wife who stumble upon a young girl recently escaped from a kidnapper. Instead of taking her immediately to a hospital, the couple decide to keep her for a couple days in order to string the police along with clues, in hopes of gaining fame for the wife's psychic powers. Tales From The Crypt style outcome to follow. Thing is, the wife really is psychic, and she does find the girl through the use of her powers, but unfortunately no one is around to see it, and so, at her insistence, the husband goes along with her plan.

The main problem with the film would have to be consistency. The overall plot is straightforward enough, but the characters are defined more by plot necessity than any actual believable motivation. It's not just that they make ridiculously idiotic choices, but that these choices go against what we've been led to believe about their nature. For the first half of the film the wife is soft spoken, kind, and well-meaning, using her abilities to help people. Yet as soon as she discovers the unconscious girl, she becomes cruel and fame-hungry, ignoring all rational advice. It's also never clear why the husband goes along with these plans.

What the film does succeed at is atmosphere and mood, conveyed through several beautiful, short scenes that could almost be called set pieces if they weren't so low-key. Kurosawa as a horror director has always worked towards unsettling the audience with the implied horror of what is lurking just outside of the frame rather than scaring them with sudden shocks. His films can be terrifying to those willing to invest the time and attention, but boring to those who will wonder where all the scary stuff is. In Seance he attains his goal several times, creating incredible tension out of something as mundane as folding laundry, while wind blown trees allow the light to dance, obscuring and revealing areas in the background of the frame.

Scenes like the above are so visually and emotionally resonant that it's a letdown when the rest of the film can't wholly support their weight. The film is, I have to admit, half-baked. It's a drawback, though, that I'll happily forgive for another chance to get lost in those swaying trees and shifting shadows.

Up next: I continue this theme, applying the same theory of forgiveness to the Zombie Diaries. How will that fare? Tune in this weekend to find out.

[Author's note: I discovered, while writing this, that Seance is a remake of the well-regarded film Seance on a Wet Afternoon, which I have not seen. Perhaps seeing it will provide context that puts this film in better company, but I'm thinking not]

Spamalot pt. 2: Not really about the play, just some thoughts inspired by the multiple viewings.

2009-04-24T18:55:00.000-07:00

When reading up on Spamalot the other night, mainly to find out what happened to the witch burning scene they had promotional materials for, I saw quite a bit of negative reactions to the play. Most of it leveled at Eric Idle for having the gall to tamper with such a classic bit of cinema comedy as Monty Python and the Holy Grail. Much of the mudslinging came from two of his fellow Pythons. Terry Gilliam called it 'Python-lite' while Terry Jones called it 'utterly pointless' and said 'regurgitating Python is not high on my list of priorities.' John Cleese apparently had no problem with it, as he lends his voice to the play as God, and Michael Palin called it 'a great show.'

The negativity isn't really that surprising, really, but I do think it's a bit unfair. Eric Idle has always been, it should be admitted, the Python most eager to cash in on his status. He's spent the years since his time in Monty Python lobbying strongly for a reunion tour, and when that didn't come together he surrounded himself with unknowns and toured the country rehashing old Python routines. Of course, Idle will be the first to cheerfully admit he's shamelessly exploiting the Monty Python legacy(he did name the above-mentioned tour Eric Idle Exploits Monty Python), but that does nothing to calm his detractors.

To me, though, Eric Idle is the Python I would most like to hang out with(aside from, possibly, Michael Palin, who may just be the nicest man on the planet). John Cleese has been the most consistently funny throughout his career, but it also seems like that whole frustrated-anger-exploding-suddenly-and-violently is more than just an act. Terry Jones would be interesting, but would probably dominate all conversations with bits of medieval trivia. Fascinating, but it would probably get old. Terry Gilliam is the only Python I have followed closely since the group disbanded, but he seems like an often difficult person to be around. Graham Chapman would probably be boring, and a bit dirty.

Clearly I've spent too much time thinking about this.

Back to Idle; he has an infectiously cheerful persona that I'm always happy to see; he's one of the few elderly comedians who I don't feel is desperately trying(or not even bothering) to hide a deep, profound sadness. And his material offers an incredibly inspiring world-view. This is most evident in two particular songs; Always Look on the Bright Side of Life and The Galaxy Song. Those two songs are all about finding the joy, not just the humor, in the most sober, dry, or downright miserable topics. It's not about making a dirty or tasteless joke, but about turning unpleasant(crucifixion, death, the humdrum misery of every day life) into something joyous and inspirational. Think I'm reading too much into this? Go listen to the Galaxy Song and try to feel miserable. In that song Idle admits that life here may be horrible and yes, even pointless, but step way back and you'll see just how awe-inspiring and amazing this existence we're all part of really is.

This spirit carries over into Spamalot, which becomes something much different than it's detractors probably take it for. True, the show recycles many bits from The Holy Grail in a manner that isn't nearly as funny, and yes, it often panders shamelessly to the audience, but it comes across less as an exploitation than a gift to fans new and old. And come on, isn't it about time to admit that Monty Python and the Holy Grail is a pretty bad movie? Oh sure, it's hilarious, but as a movie it's too slackly paced and written. Part of the charm of Monty Python has always been their random non-sequiters and the breakneck pace at which they switched scenes, but that doesn't translate very well to a movie, especially when you don't spend enough time on the story that is supposed to be the backbone for all this silliness. Spamalot rectifies this a bit, by tightening the loose ends, and tying many of the random go-nowhere bits into the main story. The result is, as I said, not as funny, but it is more dramatically satisfying(Idle doesn't always succeed, though, the Prince Herbert scene still rambles on interminably, even if it's payoff is better in the play).

Monty Python has always been, by design, a cult item. Sure, everyone knows who the Monty Python crew are, but only a select few really 'get it.' These are the people wearing Black Knight t-shirts, buying stuffed Rabbits with Sharp, Pointy Teeth and quoting their favorite lines at the slightest provocation. This cult has grown more rabid and more exclusive as the years go by, and the people watching from the outside only get more confused and, possibly, nervous. This hasn't been helped by the Pythons themselves, most of whom refuse to get together in the same room and often have negative things to say about each other. Their refusal to get together lends the short period of time where they all worked in unison a much more mythic, iconic feel.

What Idle has done with Spamalot is break down some of those walls a little. He's taken what was once an item cultishly adored by a few and turned it into a story designed to bring joy even to those who had never seen a Monty Python sketch before. It's also a chance for those lifelong fans, many of whom weren't even alive when Python was an officially performing troupe, to feel a part of their favorite cult items. It opens the door for them to experience this story in a new way, that quite literally includes them in the experience.

Perhaps this is why it's failed in some circles. Nerds are fueled by elitism and exclusivity, we hate it when our favorite things become popular among the masses. I'm just as guilty of this as the next guy, but in this case, it seems tastelessly opposed to the spirit in which this particular play was forged.

Spamalot pt. 1: Just a bunch of notes.

2009-04-22T18:52:00.000-07:00

Last week Amber and I went to see Spamalot on opening night. We had won tickets through a local radio station, and they were actually pretty good seats. We enjoyed it enough that when, on exiting the theatre, we ran into a man offering half priced tickets for the second week of showings, we decided to go again. This was due as much to the fact that the show was enjoyable, as it was to the horrible audience we were part of. Going to a Monty Python inspired musical, I expected a certain level of over-excitement on behalf of the audience, but it was my miserable luck to be seated next to a very loud woman who had obviously listened to the cast recording multiple times, and who enjoyed announcing to those nearby what her favorite parts were before they happened, or maybe repeat a line as she brayed laughter.

What follows is a short series of notes I composed in my head as we watched the play for a second time. I have twitter, but I have no mobile device and so I don't really use it, and I wouldn't have been texting in the theatre anyway(probably not even during intermission). So consider this a series of fake tweets(is that the proper vernacular?) sent during the show. A live event from a previously recorded program, if you will. This is part one because I have a more involved post about Spamalot already written(and to be posted tomorrow) but these notes didn't really fit into that piece.

Pre-Show: We spend a good 20 minutes in conversation with the guy at the merchandise counter; he won't let us leave. He's been with the show for 3 years, and most of the conversation centers around which cast members are avid videogamers. There's a slight hint of animosity towards John O'Hurley(J. Peterman from Seinfeld), who plays King Arthur in the Alaska performances.

Pre-Show: We sit down with plenty of time to go. I overhear the couple to the right of me trying to figure out what the show is about. "I think it's a parody of Camelot" one of them says. Apparently they bought one of those season long packages.

15 minutes into the show and there have already been 3 pot jokes that weren't in our first showing. I remember it's 4/20/09.

During the opening night show, John O'Hurley flubbed a line during the scene with God(character name capitalized), which was noticeable only because God's part is pre-recorded. The line as spoken opening night: 'Yes, Lord' 'Well of course it's a good idea, I'm God!' He got it right this time.

One mistake carried over from the first show; The Lady of the Lake is still holding the fake hand and Holy Grail in the wrong hand. The fake thumb is on the wrong side.

Intermission: Amber plays with her DSi, I read my book. I notice the girl sitting in front of me has the same haircut and blue dye job Amber had when I met her. She's also reading the crappy Star Trek novel I just finished. Is there a French word for this phenomenon?

Intermission: This is a much better night. The couple next to me that didn't know what Spamalot was seems to be enjoying the show immensely. This makes me happy for some reason.

Audience member called on stage at the end of the show gives his name as Kilgore Trout, who we all know from Kurt Vonnegut's novels. Either he's a plant or he knew what was coming. He doesn't seem happy.

Another sign that we had a better audience tonight: everyone joins in on the post-show singalong of Always Look on the Bright Side of Life. An awesome feeling.

10 o'clock at night, the weather is mild and there's still light in the sky. We end the evening with a nice walk home.

Crazy Like a Fox

2009-04-09T19:26:00.000-07:00

There was a joke in one of the early Simpson's episodes, a throwaway gag in one of those stories where they look into the future of the family, where Marge turns on the TV and says 'Fox made the transition to hardcore pornography so subtle I never even noticed.' I'm paraphrasing, because I haven't seen this episode in at least ten years, but it's a line that comes to mind several times a year whenever Fox makes some vicious attack against the very idea of intelligent programming or announces their newest reality show. This week I've been thinking about that line a bit more than would normally be considered average.

Now, Fox is the network that brought us the plastic surgery dating show The Swan, where two women we're given makeovers and cosmetic surgery, and one was ultimately told she was just too ugly and had to go home alone. And Temptation Island, which is the only show in history that could give you chlamydia simply by watching it. So I can't exactly say that their newest announcement brings them any closer to their goal of out and out pornography than those two examples did, but it certainly helps ensure their place in that new circle of hell Rupert Murdoch had built solely for Fox executives.

Fox has announced their newest reality show, Someones Gotta Go, which coldly capitalizes on the zeitgeist of the new American public. The broke, depressed, terrified-of-the-future American public. Each week the show will focus on a different small business, where the employees will try desperately to hold onto their shrinking 401K and meager health coverage by competing and backstabbing in reality show style, until at the end of the episode the loser is fired. Surely it won't be long before actual, literal executions make up the bulk of Fox's prime time lineup.

Also, Variety has a much more gushing report on this upcoming show(of course). They do their best to make this sound like a good thing, but if you read it through there a few other depressing notes about the show(the opening up of Human Resources files and financial reports is sure to cause friction long after the cameras leave the building).

On Facebook and Waxing Nostalgic

2009-04-04T21:28:00.000-07:00

Lately I've been spending a LOT of time on Facebook, although not as much as it may seem to an outsider. Basically if I'm online then I'm logged into Facebook, even if I'm doing something else in another window, or cleaning up around the living room. In fact I'm logged in right now. But I'm only really giving it my full attention for a few cumulative minutes out of the day, when a friend is online and we're chatting, or I'm perusing whatever updates my friends have made. Another recent trend you may have noticed is the complete lack of attention I've been giving my blog. Hell, I even started a new ongoing series in order to give myself some structure, and then I turned my back on it. On Facebook I've been partaking in many quizzes, and I've been listing my various Top 5s(Top 5 movies, books, albums, etc), things I'm fully capable of putting onto this site, and yet I haven't found the time to complete even the simplest of blog posts.

There's been a lot of media attention placed on Facebook and Twitter recently, both sites where I claim membership(although Twitter was mainly out of curiosity, and is now mostly ignored). And certainly I don't want to add to that, nor do I have anything incredibly relevant to say on the subject. So I'll keep my comments brief, mainly as a prelude to future thoughts. The main complaint with Facebook and Twitter is that it gives people a chance to catalog every aspect of their lives, to the extent that they may stop living it. Well, allow me to call bullshit. You know what? This list-making and constant status updating is fun, and takes no time at all. I find it hard to bemoan as 'timewasting' something that takes about 5 minutes a day.

So yes, I am on facebook a couple times a day taking a random quiz or making a list of my top 5 of the moment. One of my more recent lists was 'top 5 albums of all time,' a subject that inspires some small amount of dread. I say this because my top 5 ANYTHING changes from month to month, day to day, often minute to minute. I normally avoid making lists for this very reason, and yet I made it anyway. For those curious, my choices were Automatic for the People by R.E.M., The Downward Spiral by Nine Inch Nails, Boys for Pele by Tori Amos, OK Computer by Radiohead, and Deluxe Men In Space by Man... Or Astro-Man? So those were my top 5. Maybe not technically my favorite albums of all time, which would be impossibly difficult to pin down, but the first five that popped into my head, which is probably the most honest way of deciding. However, those albums are no slouches, they're records I keep coming back to, and have a symbiotic effect on my emotional state. Whatever emotion I'm feeling at the time informs how I perceive the album, while the album plays on my memories and emotions and shapes the way I feel at the time.

Do you see the pattern in that list? Certainly they're all stellar albums(provided you have any interest in their respective genres), but they were all released in the mid-nineties; the decade of my adolescence. It was a ten year period in which I became a teenager, lived through high school, lost my virginity, and entered my twenties. It's a time of great import to everyone who lives that long, and the things that were important to you then may fall by the wayside from time to time, but will always hold a special place in your life. While I've remained a fan of all those bands and celebrate most of their respective discographies, those albums represent the most important contributions to my own personal development.

Automatic For The People represents the bittersweet transition from carefree preteen to mopey, self absorbed teenager, The Downward Spiral perfectly encapsulates all the frustrations, heartbreaks and rage that came with high school life. Boys for Pele is an album that makes me fall in love every time I hear it; with the album, with Tori, with Amber, with every ex-girlfriend I've ever had or never met, and every single person in the world. A ridiculously personal reaction to a ridiculously idiosyncratic album. OK Computer and Deluxe Men In Space are both albums(or, in Deluxe Men's case, an EP) that hold a different place in my life. Both huge influences on how I listen to and think about music, but also strangely removed from any personal recollections of the time they came out. If anything each album makes me think of moments years after I'd discovered them, when they were already permanent members of my personal canon. To give an example; when I listen to OK Computer, I flash immediately to a moment in my 22nd year, laying back on a bench on a London street, just about midnight, while my friends talked and drank in a nearby bar and planned the rest of the evening. I remember laying back and watching the clouds move by overhead(it was a semi-clear night, and the clouds moved quickly) while I sang Let Down to myself. It's obvious now why I associate Radiohead with that moment, but I have no real explanation as to why that moment would have called Radiohead to mind in the first place.

And so this is how it's gone. I've been ignoring my blog while spending time on Facebook and circling around these themes that are bound to be the subject of my next post. The project I've been working on is almost completely composed in my head, but I'm finding it very difficult to start putting into print, so I find other ways to spend my time that serve a somewhat similar purpose. My next post will be the long awaited(by me, at least) continuation of the Working Dead A to Zed series, which has so far only had one introductory post. The purpose of that series was to go through my vast music collection and re-listen to albums I might not have listened to in years, while trying to find just what it is about those albums that speak to me. And the reason I've hit this wall is because of the unexpectedly personal associations I have with the next album on the list. It will be the most personal thing I've written for this blog, and probably the most personal thing I've written since college. It will be full of things I've not really spoken about with anyone, even the people who went through it with me. I don't want to raise expectations that this will be some soul-searing pouring out of emotions; it will likely be fairly minor in comparison to what a lot of people write on their blogs or livejournals. But for someone like me, who's used to talking about his life mainly in terms of pop-culture likes or dislikes, this is proving a hard first step to take.

And so, in the words of my inestimable friend Rick; 'to be continued...'

The Working Dead: A to Zed

2009-01-26T20:01:00.000-08:00

The importance of music in my life is hard to overestimate; nearly every moment of my life is done to my own personal soundtrack. I listen to music on my walk to work, on my walk home, on break, I have CDs spinning while I'm online, or cleaning the house, or giving my daughter a bath, and I fall asleep to some songs that are usually, but not always, soothing. It's been this way my entire adult life, from the moment I first began to formulate my own tastes outside of what my Mom liked, or what the radio played. I got my first CD player when I turned 16, but I had already been buying CDs, making dubs to tape at a friends house and eagerly awaiting my birthday. From there I was hooked. I piggybacked on the BMG Music Club memberships of friends and relatives, and scoured used shops and new releases every time I got a few bucks. When I got my first job, a good half of each paycheck would go to music.

Over the years my collection has fluctuated a bit, but it's constantly growing ever bigger. Occasionally I'll decide I've outgrown something and either sell it or pass it along, but those moments are growing more and more infrequent. Of the 4 discs I bought from BMG in the days before my CD player, I think I only have one left, although nostalgia may lead me to one day rebuy them(for the curious, the discs were REM; Automatic for the People, Dire Straits; Brothers in Arms, The B-52s; Good Stuff, and the Waynes World Soundtrack, I only retained the REM album). My tastes are varied, if you name a genre I can name at least three bands I like in it, and if I can't, well, then a little bit of research and firsthand experience would lead me to them. My tastes are ever-changing. I'll find some new band(at least, new to me), and become obsessed with that sound for a short time, until the next sound comes along. Those older discs fade away for awhile, but become part of the larger mosaic that is my taste in music. For a few years in a row I would make mix CDs in October, not consciously, but it worked out that way. When I went back and reviewed them I found a bit of crossover in terms of bands, alongside whatever my newest obsessions were, so that each disc seemed like a slowly changing chronicle of my years.

Which is all to say that I like a lot of different styles of music, and I own a lot of it. So much of it that there are some discs I haven't listened to in years. Expecting that I'll listen to every disc in my collection regularly is just unrealistic, even if I was allowed to listen to my iPod at work every day. This has been a problem for awhile, actually, ever since my collection first grew past 100 discs(well over a decade ago). Looking over my collection recently, I realized how much stuff I haven't heard in years, and I've decided to try and rectify that.

My iPod makes this incredibly easy, and I can even track my progress by seeing when the last time I listened to something was. However, since I'm a completist, I'm going to ignore that and listen to EVERYTHING, regardless of how recently I had reviewed it. This isn't a new practice, I've done it several times in the past(though not since exiting my teens), and I know it's one of those things people do occasionally. I'm planning on going through my collection, and although I don't plan on doing any excising from my collection, I do plan on reflecting a bit on why I like a particular disc or band. I've not thought up a schedule for this, so it might be a bit infrequent, but I'm planning on posting my results at least biweekly. Ideally I'll listen to 10 full albums a week(give or take, because when Amber and I are home together I probably wont be sticking to this album-at-a-time formula), and then write about them. Of course we've seen how good I am at keeping a schedule, so I'm giving myself some leeway.

I'm going to be going through my iPod alphabetically, but by album instead of artist. There are two main reasons this appeals to me. 1) I like listening to albums more than singles, so this way I won't be splitting up my compilations or soundtracks that have multiple artists on them. 2) When I can listen to an album by Flogging Molly and follow that up with Mates of State, well, I stand less chance of getting bored, or at least burned out on a band. I have over 20 different albums by The Cure(their studio work, some live recordings, and fan club exclusives from back in the day. I'm a dork, I know), and having to listen to them all in a row may give me a greater appreciation of their musical evolution, but they also run the risk of running together on me.

I might not have something to say about every album I review, but for those interested(and if you are, really, what's wrong with you?), I'll be listing the albums I listened to at the end of the various posts. I'm also cutting this a bit short, since I'm using up space with introductions, and I don't want to get too far ahead of myself.

A-Haunting We Will Go-Go; The Ghastly Ones: I can't actually remember the exact moment I first heard this band, but it would have been in 1998, probably after I had started DJing at the local college station, and definitely after The Red Elvises and Man... Or Astro-Man? had destroyed my shoegazing, self important world and rebuilt it, brick by brick, into something much more open-minded and, well, fun. One of the very few records released by Rob Zombie's Zombie A Go-Go label, and so far the only disc I've heard by these guys. The album tells the story, in between tight surf instrumentals, of the band breaking down one dark night and seeking aide in a spooky old castle inhabited by Dr. Diablo and his evil Robot Atomico. It's not the best example of it's particular 'spooky surf' genre, but it's still an awesomely fun disc, and was one of my first introductions to the world of Surf Music.

The A-Team; Mike Post: Alright, if I was going to start cutting music out of my collection, I have to admit I'd probably start with this one. I'm not a big fan of television incidental music in general, and definitely not of mid-80s incidental music. But what can I say, I'm a big A-Team nerd. I own Mr. T's autobiography, and I love my A-Team t-shirt even though I can't wear it in public due to a washing machine mishap that melted something into the fabric. For awhile I wanted my first car to be a Custom GMC Van. Of course, maybe I just like that van. I love TV shows where the hero(s) drive around the country in a van. But back to this disc. The music is not good at all, but man, Mike Post can write an awesome theme song.

ABBA-Esque; Erasure: Erasure have a couple of really great synth-pop songs that I love listening to frequently, but none is more awesome than their cover of Take A Chance On Me, that only falters in the annoying reggae-ish vocals towards the end.

Absent Friends; The Divine Comedy: The Divine Comedy are one of my very favorite bands, although it took me a short while to appreciate them. I was initially put off by their overbearing romanticism and bourgeoisie pretensions, until I saw them live on TV and realized, it was all part of the joke. Oh, they actually are pretentious and ridiculous, but lead singer Neil Hannon at least recognizes this and delivers almost every line with the smile of a congenial drunk from a movie made in the forties. Absent Friends is currently my favorite album of theirs, although that sometimes changes. They frequently cause me to reevaluate every previous album whenever they release a new one, and I somehow end up liking them more each time. With this album, that combines Ennio Morriccone with chamber music and drunken romanticism, they hit a creative peak.

Albums this post: A-Haunting We Will Go-Go; The Ghastly Ones, The A-Team; Mike Post, Abba-esque; Erasure, Absent Friends; The Divine Comedy, Absolution; Muse, Accelerate; R.E.M.

Facebook Games = Digital Herpes

2009-01-24T13:31:00.000-08:00

This appears to be one of those games making it's way through Facebook, and that's where I came across it, even if it was actually in a link to my friend Rik's blog. Here's the rules:

Step 1: Put your music player on shuffle.
Step 2: Post the first line (unless the first line reveals the song title) from the first 30 songs that play, no matter how embarrassing.
Step 3: Strike through the songs when someone guesses both artist and track correctly.
Step 4: Looking them up on Google or any other search engine is CHEATING!
Step 5: If you like the game post your own!
Step 6: Make a new one... only after all 30 have been guessed

A couple of notes: It actually took me over 60 songs before I got a full 30, and not because of judicious skipping. I have a large collection of soundtracks and surf, and my ipod seemed to want to play those today. Also, I skipped any song that was in a foreign language, for a couple obvious reasons. A larger number of songs than I would have guessed have the title in the first line, so those were skipped as well. I also went further than just the first line, and basically used, in most cases, the first verse, to give greater context. There are a bunch of cover songs, and a few songs made famous by multiple people, in there, so if someone guesses the correct song but not the correct singer I'll still count it as a correct guess.

Now, without further ado, thirty random lyrics!

#1: Waitin', watchin' the clock, its four o'clock, its got to stop/ Tell him, take no more, she practices her speech

#2: Raise your glasses please into a toast/For we are many hometown ghosts./Let it spill all over the floor./What the hell are you saving it for?

#3: And you don't seem to understand/ a shame you seemed an honest man/ and all the things you hold so dear/ will turn to whisper in your ear

#4: What are you staring at/ in that hospital bed/ let me explain...

#5: Relax, you're quite safe here/ Am I dreaming, no/ Where am I, in bed/ Well, what am I doing/
Oh, t-t-t-t-talking to myself

#6: Now and then I get horny/ at night you do, at night you do/ Smile from side to side/ At night you do, at night you do

#7: We dig TV we dig remote control/ We dig the Furry Freak Brothers and the Twilight Zone/ We dig Marvel and D.C., we dig Run-DMC/ We dig Renegade Soundwave and AC/DC

#8: There's a nail in the door And there's glass on the lawn/ Tacks on the floor
And the TV is on/ And I always sleep with my guns when you're gone

#9: Walter, remember when the world was young And all the girls knew Walter's name/ Walter, isn't it a shame the way our little world has changed?

#10: Can you tell me why the bells are ringing/ Nothing's happened in a million years/ I've been sitting here since wednesday morning/ Wednesday morning can't believe my ears

#11: nothing ever gets in my way/ nothing ever gets on my mind/ nothing ever makes me stop to think about/ nothing of the kind

#12: Take away the sensation inside/ Bitter sweet migraine in my head/ Its like a throbbing toothache of the mind/ I can't take this feeling anymore

#13: And Abraham Lincoln town cars arive to dispose of our king and queen/ and They orchestrated dramatic new scenes....for celebration needs/ When one world ends something else begins/ but without a scream/ Just a whisper because we just started it over again

#14: Still don't know what I was waiting for/ And my time was running wild/ A million dead-end streets and/ Every time I thought I'd got it made/ It seemed the taste was not so sweet

#15: Too hard on the brakes again/ What if these brakes just give in?/ What if the car loses control?/ What if there's someone overtaking?

#16: Midnight, our sons and daughters/ Were cut down and taken from us/ Hear their heartbeats/ We hear their heartbeats/ In the wind we hear their laughters/ In the rain we see their tears/ Hear their heartbeats/ We hear their heartbeats

#17: I've got you/ You've got whatever's left of me to get/Our conversations are like minefields/ No one's found a safe way through one yet

#18: The bitch is getting ready to make my life unsteady./ I don't care, I just want a surprise.

#19: Those schoolgirl days, of telling tales and biting nails are gone/ But in my mind/ I know they will still live on and on

#20: wait for... everything evil in you comes out/ i'll stay when we'll only motivate sound instead

#21: Fire burned and blew out flowers/ Showing me its comely powers/ Still and all it would be hours/ Before I would get burned

#22: wherever I go/ I take a little piece of you/ I collect/ I reject/ photographs I took of you

#23: The secret rulers of the world/ Have stolen my girl/ The whisked her away in a black limousine/ And that was the last of her I'd ever see

#24: You gave up right away/ Never too tough to care/ You give a brighter way/ Never too notice her

#25: This is not love/ This is not even worth a point of view/ In Echo Park/ I pause for effect and whisper 'who are you?'

#26: Dark in the city night is a wire/ Steam in the subway earth is afire/ Do do do do do do do dodo dododo dodo

#27: I buried him down by the river/ cause thats where he liked to be/ And every night when the moon is high/ I go there and weep openly

#28: The lights go out and I can't be saved/ Tides that I tried to swim against/ Have brought me down upon my knees/ Oh I beg, I beg and plead singin...

#29: I got a pocket full of quarters, and I'm headed to the arcade./ I don't have a lot of money, but I'm bringing ev'rything I made./ I've got a callus on my finger, and my shoulder's hurting too./ I'm gonna eat them all up, just as soon as they turn blue.

#30: Hey Yo doctor, here's another proper track/ and it's phat, watch the sniper, time to pay the piper/ and let that real shit provoke, so you's a wanna be 'loc/ and you'll get smoked and i hope that yer fans understand/ when ya talk about sprayin me, the same records that ya makin' is payin' me/ Motherfuck Dre/ Motherfuck Snoop/ Motherfuck Death Row/ yo and here comes my left blow

Download

2008-11-28T00:26:00.000-08:00

I don't want to step on the toes of the great Comics Curmudgeon(seriously, everyone follow the link and start reading, daily... it's funny stuff), but since he didn't mention this creepy creepy strip on his blog, I figured it would be fair game here.

The Family Circus, from the day before thanksgiving.

There are oh so many ways this can be twisted into something horrid and creepy, and absolutely no way that this can be taken as wholesome and religious, which is basically what Family Circus is from day to day.

Anyone still reading this? I'd love to get some alternate text for that panel.

Spout #13(Part Two): Gowanus, Brooklyn

2008-10-12T19:36:00.000-07:00

It's going to be almost impossible for me to really, fairly review Gowanus, Brooklyn. As a short film, a visual short story with beginning, middle and end, it's a horrible failure. And yet it's also a complete success, as a compelling piece of drama, a showcase for some good acting on the half of some previously unknown talent, and as a glimpse into the abilities of a talented young filmmaker trying to show the world what he can do. I'm sorry, that last bit might seem hyperbolic, but it's also true, and it needs to be noted because of the success he has with his attempts. Director Ryan Fleck intended this film as the feature-length it would eventually become, 'Half Nelson', and filmed a 25 minute short film/segment to drum up interest and financing. That he eventually succeeded, to critical acclaim, needs to be considered before judging the merits of this film alone.

Stranded at school when her brother fails to pick her up, Drey heads back inside to use the gym's restroom facilities, where she finds one of her teachers, Mr. Dunne, getting high in one of the stalls. She immediately asks him for a ride home. There are brief glimpses of a relationship that may build between the two, wary friendship or outright dependence, but that isn't the focus of this short. Drey seems well adjusted, but sullen, quiet, and lonely, and is obviously disconnected from all aspects of her life. Her mother seems loving, but absent most of the time due to work. Her brother, likewise, seems close to her, but he's older and part of a different world. She has friends at school, but while they chatter and laugh, she seems more interested in clusters of older children hanging out on the street corner. That probably explains why she grasps onto Mr. Dunne; she has something on him, proof of the fallibility of adults, and it brings him down closer to her level. Their both out of place in their own lives, and hiding something from the world. We don't see much of Mr. Dunne, but his misery is clear enough. It's there in his drug problem(always the cinematic sign of misery), and the extended pause he takes after getting into his car before he drives away.

We get a flurry of possible conflicts in this short film, and none of them are anywhere near resolution. Drey's mother has her own sadness and seems to be preoccupied with some horrible thoughts, Drey's brother is apparently involved in some not-quite-legal activities, and of course there's Mr. Dunne and his drug problem, and Drey herself and her alienation. Most of these conflicts aren't directly addressed, but are conveyed by lingering camera takes, and some meaningful glances.

A word should be said about the acting. I actually really like low-budget films and their non-actors. There's something appealing and even emotionally affecting about the sometimes stilted or borderline flat delivery. I like it's rhythm, and it's awkwardness. Not to say that any of that appears here. With the possible exception of the important Mr. Dunne, every single person appearing on screen seems to not even be acting, but to be living these events out. Every one of them is utterly convincing. I don't mean to say that Mr. Dunne, played by Matt Kerr, is a bad actor, but he doesn't seem a perfect fit for a role that should be much more magnetic and, yes, charismatic.

So there, a quick overview of a fantastic short film that should really only serve as a companion piece to a larger work. I find it very encouraging that Ryan Fleck was able to get his feature film made from this short, and look forward to seeing how everything plays out. There are many predictable ways in which this story could go, which we can call the 'after school special' approach, but judging from the work on display here, I don't have much fear about that.

Final Analysis: Would I pay money for a feature film directed by Ryan Fleck(and co-written by Anna Boden, can't forget her)? If it weren't already obvious, I plan on doing so later this week.

Spout #13 (Part One): Hyper

2008-10-06T21:16:00.000-07:00

The disc I'm reviewing this time is a collection of short films, 13 to be exact. I didn't plan on writing individual reviews for each film, and I still don't. My friend and fellow Spout Maven Rik did that far more impressively than I could hope to do here. I'm leaving it up in the air right now, some posts may have only one short film, others may include a few, or I may just burn through the final dozen in the next post(that last one is highly unlikely). I do plan on treating each of these shorts as an individual film, however, and will be taking time to review all of the special features they may have(each includes at least one commentary). To many of these filmmakers, this short film they've produced represents just as much passion, sweat and ingenuity as a feature length film, and maybe more of that stuff than many features. I've also decided that the best way of reviewing these films, the best criteria, is a single question I'll ask myself at the end of every viewing; would I pay to see a movie directed by this artist? I'll answer the question for the first of these shorts, Hyper, in the following paragraphs.

Like the Ace, the subject of the fake documentary that is Hyper, and Rik, who suggested this disc to me, I move at a personal speed that is noticeably higher than that of the rest of the world. Part of that is my height, longer legs and longer strides, but most of it is motion. I fidget a bit, I pace constantly when I'm required to be on the phone, and I've somewhat mastered the ability to weave in and out of clusters of shoppers at the mall. And yes, this brings with it a level of frustration. Constantly slowing down to the speed of the people I'm with, or facing the terror of a packed mall where I'll have my own personal rhythm interrupted by some teenager who decides they don't need to see what's going on behind them before they stop short to stare at something in the window. That stuff can sometimes be annoying. I sympathize with Ace. But there is where the similarities end.

I may move at a faster than average clip when walking, and may experience mild annoyance when that clip is interrupted, but in general I am not worried about time. It does not appear logical to me to live your life watching the clock, or constantly measure time in a series of positive or negative blocks. In my life, as anyone reading my infrequent blog can attest, I am not averse to stopping to smell the roses, as it were. But Ace, well, Ace is a bit more extreme. Every moment of his life is lived in fast forward, counting every minute and adding or subtracting to some vague, unmentioned total. Working out while riding the train to work gains him an hour, while spending time with the girlfriend loses him 15 minutes. I'm not sure what he's keeping track for, or what he's doing with the total, but it completely consumes his life..

I guess that would be the biggest question: Why? What is Ace hoping to accomplish? What is he going to do with all that extra time? It's not as if it sits somewhere, accruing interest until some magical day when he retires. And besides, Ace seems to have no real goal or desire to be anything other than a courier, which he already is. He obviously doesn't want a family one day, as private time with a magazine in a public restroom seems more than enough domestic satisfaction. Sure, the point may be that all of Ace's tips for faster living are, in fact, pointless. That in the end Ace winds up stuck in his own rut, alone and never at rest. But I'm still unsure as to why this man would feel so compelled.

By the time I made it through this film for a third time, watching Ace gave me the sort of annoyance I normally reserve for those people who use wheelchairs but push themselves around with their feet.

Final analasis, would I pay to see a feature length film directed by Michael Canzoniero and Marco Ricci? Well, I wouldn't avoid it. I know that sounds like faint praise, but it's hard to judge from this short. Hyper was quick and fun and mildly stylized, but there was nothing to it to set it apart. Nothing in the film gave any idea about the philosophies, ideas or style of the talent behind the camera. So yes, if the subject matter of the film appealed to me, I'd love to see more from these guys.

Spout #12: Clean (Or; the redemption of Courtney Love)

2008-08-26T21:07:00.000-07:00

OK, so perhaps the connection isn't that major, and it certainly isn't anything brought up by the movie itself, but the parallels are hard to deny. It's safe to assume that at some point in the production of this movie, which follows a woman blamed(by some) for the overdose of her more famous rock star husband as she tries to get her act together and regain some of her fame, someone must have brought up Courtney Love and Nirvana frontman Kurt Cobain. Perhaps Olivier Assayas even looked back to the story of that couple for some inspiration or ideas, but that's probably as far as it went.

At the opening of the film we see Emily(Maggie Cheung) and her musician husband arriving in a small town for a gig. Most of this is irrelevant, and only serves to impress upon us that Emily is a junkie, and she's blamed by those around her for dragging her far more talented husband into her addiction. In fact, the first thing we witness Emily doing is setting up a connection so she can score drugs later that night. Did I say most of this was irrelevant? I suppose it might be, except for that little action there. It's the drugs that Emily buys from this connection that propel the rest of the movie. After an argument(about drugs), Emily storms out on her husband that night, and separately the two get high. Emily wakes up in the morning, her husband does not. Returning to their hotel room, which is now a crime scene, Emily makes an ill-advised emotional outburst, drawing the curiosity of the cops, and landing her in jail once they find the heroin in her purse. Almost overnight, the fame that the drug-addled couple had been searching for finds them. Emily's husband becomes an overnight sensation. It's never stated what his level of stardom is, but we hear that his death made the cover of Mojo magazine, and his family is being helped out by old friend Tricky, so we can assume he was a bit of a one-time superstar in the indie music world. Emily, on the other hand, attracts nothing but derision, and everyone in the world is apparently convinced that she killed her husband. She denies this, to everyone, whether or not she actually believes it herself.

After 6 months in prison, Emily meets with her father-in-law, Albrecht(Nick Nolte), at a small diner somewhere. He offers to give her money, she refuses, he asks her to not visit her son, she agrees. Both of them seem to think that the child needs stability, and Emily can't give that to him. As a father, this sort of thinking bothers me a bit, and although I can't completely agree, I have to give Emily kudos, because this is undoubtedly the best decision for everyone. With the small amount of money left in her bank account, Emily heads home to Paris, where she gets a job at a restaurant, and dreams of regaining the fame she once had as a VeeJay for an MTV-like cable channel. Maggie Cheung here(it's important to give her credit for this, not just her character), is marvelous here, flitting from Canada to Paris to London, alternating between English, Chinese and French with ease, and always looking completely at home wherever she is. The irony is that she never feels at home, and seems endlessly restless and always wanting more.

As much as Emily constantly talks about it, she actually doesn't seem too interested in regaining any fame. Or perhaps it's the work she isn't interested in. She gives her friends some demo tapes, she has an interview with her old boss, but that's pretty much it. She doesn't seem interested in getting some like-minded musicians together or singing in a band, or hell, even karaoke. She just continues her addictions(methadone now, not heroin) and talks about how she should be famous. Eventually, as her life becomes on disappointment after another, Emily moves in with some friends and decides to get clean, taking a menial job at a department store. She even turns down her one best chance at making an album because it would clash with her plans to see her son. Suddenly, with none of the signposts familiar to most drug addiction movies, Emily has matured and started to change her life. Around this point Nick Nolte re-enters the film(Nolte suffers a bit from 'star cameo syndrome,' in that he never interacts with most of the main cast, and often feels like he's starring in a separate film). In London so his dying wife can see some specialists, he reintroduces Emily to her son, and helps end the movie on a positive note.

Clean is a bit of an odd duck; not really gritty or emotional enough to fit into the scores of other drug films, the film is surprisingly upbeat, but never really reaches 'after school special' levels of schmaltz. What it is is a calm, intelligent meditation on addiction and the ways we try to lie to ourselves to make us fit in. Emily, while certainly not the best mother in the world, is still surprisingly honest and open with her son. While not expressly admitting guilt in her husband's death, Emily is refreshingly straightforward with her son, telling him about his father, and their life together, and how drugs gave them both some very good times, admitting that it could have been either or both of them that died(which is true). Like I said, she never admits guilt, but the discussion does bring a catharsis of some sort, and it seems to cleanse Emily of some of the guilt and baggage she's been carrying around. The ending disappointed some, but it felt right to me. Emily is recording in San Francisco, with the prospect of a loving relationship with her son in front of her, and she walks off into the sun of a new morning, clean.

Tales From The Discount Bin: The Forever War

2008-08-20T22:33:00.001-07:00

I'm cheating a bit with this entry, because Joe Haldeman is far from discount bin material(The Forever War is widely regarded as one of the 20 best sci-fi books of all time, which is an amorphous but still impressive honor), but considering how often sci-fi is marginalized in popular culture, I'm willing to allow it. Plus I made up the rules, and if you don't like it, tough.

I am not, typically, a sci-fi aficionado. I'm changing that, slowly, with this 'Discount Bin' feature, but it's still a genre that I'm largely ignorant of, and as such I have a fairly basic way of categorizing science fiction novels into two categories; soft sci-fi and hard sci-fi. Hard sci-fi is where the science is front and center, and dense, and often meticulously researched. Soft sci-fi is where the science exists merely as a kind of rack to hang the story on, and isn't explained more than is necessary to propel the story. Hard sci-fi is often full of big mind blowing ideas, but often, by design, is not very emotionally engaging. On the other hand, soft sci-fi, which I have to admit I usually enjoy more, is more geared towards exploring emotional and philosophical questions and uses the science as a starting point. The works of Samuel Delaney would edge towards hard sci-fi, while the works of Kurt Vonnegut would be clearly soft sci-fi.

I shared this viewpoint with my friend Eric, and it turns out he had a complimentary way of categorizing science fiction. He viewed sci-fi as either space opera or deconstructive. Space Opera was basically our myths transplanted to space, a way of reaffirming the truths we hold dear. Deconstructive sci-fi was the opposite, and used the medium to explore, subvert or argue against the ideals we as a society hold on to. Star Wars would be space opera, while Star Trek would be deconstructive(actually, it would bounce all over the place, since they tried to do so many different things with that show). If you were to take those and form a quadrant graph, with each corner of a square devoted to one category, The Forever War would form a pretty symmetrical shape smack dab in the middle.

The Forever War starts in the mid nineties where humans are much more technologically advanced, having discovered near-light speed travel(aided by wormholes which advanced the study of physics dramatically). When one of their research ships comes back horribly damaged, and all of it's crew dead, the military minds become suspicious. When first contact is made with an alien race(dubbed Tauran), humanity shoots first and asks questions later. So begins the Forever War, where the military drafts not dropouts, but the smartest and strongest college students(wanting physicists who would understand the technology needed), and then sends them out into deep space. If they survive, they will return to an Earth several generations on, where everyone they know is dead and everything has changed.

Given the option to resign after his first two year tour, William Mandella returns to an Earth several decades on. His father is dead, but his mother is alive, and Earth is suffering from the effects of a war that steals the strongest and brightest of it's children. He and Marygay, whom he developed a relationship while in space, find themselves unable to fit in to this violent, soul-deadening society, despite being immensely wealthy(military pay plus several decades of interest in their Earth bank accounts), and re-enlist as instructors. The army has other needs, and sends Mandella and Marygay back into battle. And so it goes. The two are sent back into the war, together for awhile until separate assignments make it impossible that they would ever see each other again(relativity being what it is, they will most likely die hundreds of years apart). Occasionally Mandella returns to Earth, or at least to humanity, to gear up with the latest technology and head back to the aptly named Forever War.

There are so many ideas in this book that I don't really know where to start. The science is at the forefront, and each idea is theoretically possible with what we know(or knew, in 1974) of physics. And yet, unlike some novels I've read, the technical details never go too far into mind-numbing statistics. Scratch that, it goes VERY far into the statistics, theories and practical uses of the technology, but it was like a really amazing PBS documentary that makes you want to go out and research the scientific theories at work. Much of this science is applied in weapons, of course, and there are some really fascinating things there, but a lot of it is also given over to relativity and the disorienting affects it has. It's one thing to leave for two years and come back to find Earth is 20+ years on, it's another to never know what type of enemy you're going to run into, whether they will be more or less technologically advanced than you. On first contacts, the Taurans prove to be horrible fighters, completely ignorant of warfare. They have some devastating weapons in space, but on ground they seem to have no concept of hand to hand combat. This changes as things go on, but it's never steady. They never know if, due to the physics of time travel, they will run into a group of Taurans that left port earlier, the same time as, or decades later than the humans did.

I think what makes The Forever War so distinguished among other Hard Sci-Fi books I've read is that he's applied the same conjecture to the social, emotional and philosophical ramifications of such an immense and expensive war. Each time Mandella returns to Earth, we are told of all of the changes on Earth, but also given explanations for how things got that way. For an arm-chair doomsayer like myself, all of it seemed completely plausible, and a bit more subtle than the average 'descent into savagery and fascism' than most sci-fi has. At several points Earth is even better off than when Mandella was drafted, since these things tend to go in cycles; things get better, things get worse.

By the end of the novel, Mandella has lived through over 1,000 years of human history, although of course it's been less than a decade for him. Towards the end he keeps getting sent out on missions because, as the oldest soldier, and one of only a handful to survive more than two encounters, he's become a folk hero, something for the propaganda machines on Earth to celebrate. The ending pulls out some sudden emotion, which seems slightly out of place against the fairly grim and emotionless events recounted prior, but it still gave me chills, and was immensely satisfying. I won't spoil it here, because it's a book that has surprises on almost every page, and really should be enjoyed blind(I've been careful to avoid some of the bigger shocks). I will, by necessity, be spoiling the ending when I review the sequel, but I'll give you all a few days head start.

I know I recommend stuff all the time, but right now I'm going to say that anyone reading this on a regular basis needs to go buy this book as soon as possible. I'm gushing, I know, but it really was a great book and surprised the hell out of me.

Step Brothers

2008-08-17T23:13:00.000-07:00

I'm choosing to review Step Brothers not because I have anything incredibly insightful to say about it, or that the movie inspired an intense reaction, but because I've given this movie a 4 star rating on Spout and feel like I need to qualify that a little. For those reading this on my Working Dead Productions site, a rating of 4(out of 5) literally means 'I liked it.' And I did. Kinda.

Oh sure, I got my two hours worth of laughs out of it, but in the end, I don't feel that there's really anything to recommend watching the full movie over the trailer. You get the joke in that short 2-3 minute montage of clips. The only joke. Will Ferrel and John C. Reilly are 40 year olds that aren't just man-children, but children whose bodies have become man-sized. There's some funny bits in between, some of it quite hilarious, and seeing Ferrel and Reilly dropping F-bombs at the top of their lungs never really loses it's comedic charm, but in the end, you see the trailer, you see the movie. I never really understood or agreed with critics who call a movie easily forgettable, but I will say that Step Brothers is just that. I'm sitting here trying to remember some of the one-liners from the movie, and I just can't do it. People will probably memorize and quote the movie, although probably not to the extent of Anchorman, but I won't be one of them.

Critics lately have been complaining about Judd Apatow's theme of arrested adolescents finally having to grow up, but I have to admit i still find it enjoyable. Perhaps it's because I count myself as one of that tribe, with my house full of comic books, video games, action figures and movie/music posters. I occasionally feel like I should grow up and start to put this stuff behind me, but then I realize that's just crazy talk. That scene in the 40 Year Old Virgin where Steve Carrell starts packing up his toy collection, it saddens me every time. The scenes in Step Brothers where the two guys just spend their nights watching Steven Segal movies and eating cereal? I wish that was my life. And I know it isn't just me. Just about everyone I know from my generation is going through the same thing. Apatow has struck a nerve with his films, but this one suffers from his more direct input(he produced, but neither wrote nor directed).

Step Brothers is stupid(purposefully so), silly, crass, and lazy. It's like an SNL skit, where it's a pretty funny idea, and then kinda settles and runs out of inertia as you realize you're going to have to wait for them to drag the gag out to movie length before they end it.

Get Off My Intellectual Property!

2008-08-15T23:05:00.000-07:00

I'm halfway interested in the new horror film Mirrors for a couple of reasons. The first is director Alexander Aja, who directed the stylish(but completely inconsistent and mindless) slasher chase film High Tension, and the remake of The Hills Have Eyes. I almost thoroughly enjoyed High Tension when I saw it in theatres, and felt that his Hills Have Eyes remake was technically superior to the original, but emotionally and viscerally not in the same league. The other reason is that the film's central idea is eerily similar to an idea I've been kicking around since high school.

As a teenager I had a dream where mirrors weren't just reflections, but windows to alternate universes that were almost perfectly identical to our own. They looked exactly alike, but I was convinced that people in that mirror world were living their own separate lives. I could only imagine what they were doing when I wasn't watching. In the dream it wasn't malevolent, but it's hard to deny the creepiness in that idea. So it's made it's way into several ghost stories I've tried to write, and I made it a concept in my long(and slowly) gestating haunted house script. It's not a close enough similarity to seem like more than a mild coincidence, and it certainly doesn't mean I need to change my story, but it is a bit irritating now that if I ever do make my movie, I'll have the inevitable comparison to contend with. Or maybe Mirrors will be forgotten by then. It seems likely.

Or, maybe the moral is that I need to get off my ass and do something.

Stay tuned...

Tiny Apocalypse

2008-08-09T12:43:00.001-07:00

So now I'm about to lose all credibility, if I had any to begin with. Last night a friend brought over Doomsday, the latest from director Neil Marshall, who I normally enjoy. Dog Soldiers was fun, but I enjoyed more for it's promise of future delights than it's actual content, and Descent was one of the few theatrically released movies of the last few years that actually scared me. Doomsday continues the theme of unapologetically genre-based films starting with the letter D, and it looks like he's going to keep it up with his upcoming film Drive. Doomsday was not well received, although it didn't bomb, either. Most critics seemed aware of what the movie was trying to do(revive the tradition of 80's era post-apocalyptic action movies with grim heroes), but the main complaint was that the duplication seemed "lazy and uninspired." My only guess is that these same critics were expecting a satire or parody, not a love recreation.

I have to be honest and say that Doomsday is a pretty stupid movie, with very little substance to it beyond cheesy genre thrills. It's basically a hodge podge of 80's post-apocalyptic movies; a little Mad Max, a little Escape From New York, a little bit of The Warriors, and countless other movies made cheaply for the booming 80's video market. But Doomsday avoids the curse that befalls most homage movies by copying not just the setting, but the anarchic spirit of the films it's taking inspiration from. So complete is the insanity in this movie that, when I first watched it, tired and dozing, every time I opened my eyes I thought a new movie had started. Jumping from 28 Days Later style military action in Scotland to Beyond Thunderdome style bread and circus antics, to fucking Robin Hood, I couldn't keep up.

Let's just say the film had me from the moment when the heavily tattooed, mascara wearing leader of the cannibal tribe walks onto a stage and begins dancing and lip-synching to Adam Ant as a prelude to public torture. That's just pure fun.

Download

2008-08-03T16:33:00.000-07:00

And I'm young enough to look at
And far too old to see
All the scars are on the inside
I'm not sure if there's anything left of me
- Blue Oyster Cult
Veteran of the Psychic Wars

The other day, as I travelled around midtown doing some errands, rocking out to BOC's Fire of Unknown Origin, those lyrics struck me. Not as incredibly deep, or moving, or even pretentious, but as highly... nerdy. And it hit me that that was a really big thing in the seventies. People like to credit They Might Be Giants, or even go back to Devo, as the progenitors of nerd rock, but really, it was people like Led Zepellin, with they epic songs about hobbits and elves and wizards, or Blue Oyster Cult with their rockin' singles about Godzilla, or the works of Michael Moorcock(the aforementioned song is narrated by a thinly veiled version of Jerry Cornelius). Hell, even Kiss and Alice Cooper fell into this category, only they were more spookshow oriented.

So if rock and roll in the seventies was all about mythology and fantasy, in the eighties it started to become about the myth of rock and roll itself. Bands like Metallica or Motorhead or even Bon Jovi started to take the focus away from 'isn't this cool and epic?' to 'aren't we cool and epic?'

And then come the nineties, where grunge came along and everyone misunderstood how close to arena rock these musicians actually were. It was, again, the focus that had changed. Grunge was about deconstructing the myth of rock and roll, it was about taking the focus away from the band and putting it back into the hands of the people. If that makes any sense.

Here's a story I read, that is both funny and sad. In the late eighties, Axl Rose of Guns 'N Roses apparently sensed some sort of camaraderie with Kurt Cobain, and he actually tried to get a project off the ground with the rising grunge superstars. You see, in Axl's eyes, they were two of a kind, both making a statement about the stale, corporate world of arena rock. They were both voices of their generations counter culture. But in Kurt Cobain's eyes, Guns 'N Roses were the precise form of cock rock they hated so much, and were so against.

That story made me laugh when I first heard it, but the more I think about it the more tragic it seems. Axl Rose had just been laughed out of the building by the voice of a generation, so of course he fired his band and has spent the last dozen or so years in seclusion, spiralling further into drugs and working on an album that will at this rate only be released posthumously.

Sorry, got off on a tangent there.

So if the rock in the 70s was about mythology, and in the 80s it was about mythologizing rock itself, then the 90s were about deconstructing all of that. That means that the 00's are all about looking back and trying to reclaim some of those styles that were rejected by other generations. Bands like the Darkness or Eagles of Death Metal are reviving the sex and glam of rock, while Tenacious D are handling the mythology front. Bands like The Strokes, The Killers or Franz Ferdinand and even Coldplay are bringing back 80s arena rock. And then you have Nickelback regurgitating all of the worst aspects of grunge.

A friend has a theory about music, and although he probably wont read this, I'll give Eric credit anyway. He says that every genre has three good decades. The first decade, it's unknown. The only people aware of it are the people doing it. In the second decade it's still unknown, but it's starting to catch on. The third decade is where it gets popular, and after that it's a slow assimilation into the generic world of popular music. It happened with country and bluegrass, and now it seems to be happening simultaneously with rock and hip hop.

I Want to Believe That There is a Better Film In This Franchise's Future

2008-07-27T01:00:00.000-07:00

It should be noted, before I go into this review, that I was never a huge X-Files fanatic. The closest I got was during the shows first 4-5 seasons, when I think I watched every new episode as it aired. I didn't join any clubs, write any fan fiction, or read any message boards about it, but I watched it all. I remember watching a few episodes with my grandfather, but it wasn't really his thing and eventually it was just me, in the dark, watching some of the scariest television I'd seen at that point in my life. But then, around the time the first film came out, I started to drift away. I would watch the show if I was home on a Sunday night, or if it was in syndication and I happened across it, but I stopped following the increasingly labyrinthine mythology. And then, for no good reason I can recall, I started watching again on it's last season. And for awhile, because I was so lost, the show fooled me into thinking it was more intelligent than it really was. In the end, I never blindly enjoyed the entire series, the way I will admit to doing with Twin Peaks, but it was always fun to sit down and watch a frequently creepy hour of television.

With that in mind, I think it's safe to say that my expectations were at a sufficiently low level for me to enjoy this film. I've read all the reviews from critics who were big fans of the show, and how this is a letdown after so long a wait, but I like to think I'm a bit more clear-eyed. After the first film, and the screaming nosedive the show took in it's final season(I will lay none of this blame on Robert Patrick, who did a fine job with a shit role), and the Seinfeld-esque clip show of a finale, I wasn't expecting too much. In the end, I think The X-Files: I Want To Believe can basically be described as a not-bad, but not-great episode.

Set, apparently, six years after the show ended(which would make it pretty much set today), the new X-Files movie finds Mulder living in the middle of nowhere, still meticulously clipping strange newspaper headlines and pinning them to his walls. Scully is a doctor at a catholic hospital, caring for a young boy who has a condition for which there is no cure. The FBI coerces Scully into tracking down Mulder(who's been hiding from the since they put him on trial in the series finale) to help with a case involving a kidnapped agent. In return they'll grant him a full pardon, although for the life of me I can't remember what crimes he was accused of, or why he ran away. The reason they were called in on this particular case is because the FBI's main lead comes from an ex-priest who claims to be having visions from God about the victims. The ex-priest is played by Billy Connely- even when he acts as grim and dour as he does in this film- and is a convicted pedophile, having molested 27 boys.

So here we have a pedophile priest, full of self loathing and practically forcing himself to believe God can forgive him. Scully, incongruously full of doubt and skepticism about the supernatural(9 years on the show and she still doubts Mulder and gives him the 'you're so crazy' look when he talks about psychics?), but also looking for validation for her own belief in God. A new FBI agent(played by Amanda Peet) who hopes that the priest is for real, and idolizes Mulder. And of course Mulder, who of course jumps to the most outlandish and ridiculous explanations before even considering something logical. Is the title of the movie making sense yet? Everyone in this movie- at least the four leads- is searching for proof that their beliefs are the right ones.

Thematically this fits in with the shows constant search for answers, but other than that it's hard to tell what really makes this an X-Files movie. It almost seems as if the filmmakers, impatient after years of aborted attempts, decided to take a pre-existing script and change the character names to "Mulder" and "Scully". The film is characterized by a distinct lack of supernatural events, and the ad campaign does everything it can to avoid this. That scene in the trailer where Billy Connely rises from the snow with black goo running out of his eyes? I immediately thought of the "Black Oil", a thought that was reinforced by a new "Black Oil" box set being released. Well, turns out he was just crying normal old tears of blood(a phrase I never thought I would use), and they digitally increased the amount and changed the color for the ads. Knowing how detail oriented some of the X-Files fans I can't help but think it was a deliberate attempt to garner more intense fan interest. Also, that scene where some dude is running away through a dark room, and he makes a dramatic leap while emitting a soft blue light? Also digitally altered. It was just a normal dude running from the feds. In fact, forget any mention of aliens in this film(aside from a quick reference to Mulder's sister), as the villains this time out are harvesting organs. And they're Russian, which I suppose is alien, in a different sense of the word.

Also, watching Mulder and Scully's sexual chemistry, which was once electrifying, is now like watching your parents trade sloppy kisses in front of your best high school friends. It was slightly uncomfortable. Don't get me wrong, there were more than a few times where I just had to smile because it was so cool to be watching some new X-Files after so long, but for the most part the film was a sluggish and mediocre.

These Pipes... Are Clean!

2008-07-24T23:35:00.000-07:00

You've probably noticed the silence around here, and all I can do is apologize. It's an old song of mine, I know, to make excuses for my inability to keep anything close to a normal schedule of posting. Let's face it, I'm a procrastinator. I'll always err on the side of lazing about. And all I can do is apologize again. To you, and to me. We both deserve better. Well, it's my pleasure to say that the times might be a-changin'.

Primarily, two things have caused my output to slow from infrequent to downright rare. A host of smaller issues helped, but the two big ones were a couple of projects of mine. One was a music cataloging project I was undertaking, and which now appears to be finished. You'll be seeing a couple of tangentially related musings over the next few days. The other was my latest review for Spout.com, which you can read by scrolling down the page for a bit. I can't explain it, but that review was the hardest one yet, and I sat on it for almost a month before I just decided to sit down and write whatever came to mind in one sitting. It's not the review I'm proudest of, but I think it pretty accurately conveys my pleasure in the film and my inability to form coherent thoughts about it. Maybe that's a good thing. Now that that is out of the way, I can focus on more personal, and, frankly, more rewarding projects. I had a few gestating, but in order to force myself to work on the review, I refused to work on them too much.

Add to those issues a full time job, my daughter starting pre-school(it's her first time in any sort of daycare program... big changes), some visiting friends I haven't seen in a long time, and other friends leaving state for good, and I just haven't been keeping my end of this little bargain. Now, however, with the obstruction that was causing all of the work stoppage cleared, and with this little bit of throat clearing out of the way, I dive back into work, and you will hopefully be seeing the fruits of those endeavors soon.

Spout 11: Manda Bala

2008-07-17T23:55:00.000-07:00

This review is a long time coming. A very long time. It's been weeks since I saw, and loved, Manda Bala, and yet I haven't gotten off my ass(or, to be truthful of my actions right now, ON my ass) to write up a review, or even a collection of thoughts. Manda Bala was excellent, more than I expected in every way possible, and yet I find myself grasping for things to say about it. The movie speaks for itself so perfectly that I don't think I could add anything that would heighten the experience. Or maybe I'm just having trouble finding a way into the movie.

Manda Bala is a documentary about... well... just what is it about? It opens with a man being interviewed about frog farming in Brazil, and he good-naturedly refuses to answer questions about some sort of scandal involving frog farming. So is it about frog farming and government corruption? Yes. The movie then shows us a young businessman who has invested thousands of dollars into protection, walks with a dummy wallet for random(and frequent) carjackings, and takes courses teaching how to outrun gunmen on the highway. So is this film about the insanely high rate of crime in Sao Paulo? Yes. Then we meet a woman who was kidnapped and held for ransom for 16 days, eventually having her ear cut off and sent to her father. So is Manda Bala about the human cost of corruption, violence and class distinction in one of the most impoverished parts of the world? Also yes. But wait there's more; the plastic surgeon with a surprisingly healthy God-complex who has made his name, and fortune, on reconstructing all of the dismembered ears of kidnap victims, the overworked and understaffed anti-kidnapping squad, the corrupt politician who has bilked millions- billions, even!- from his countrymen, and the masked kidnapper who sees himself as an urban Robin Hood, protecting and providing for his neighbors in the slums of Brazil.

Manda Bala is a complex spiderweb of a documentary, a project much more ambitious than the filmmakers apparently set out to make, and completely unlike the more high profile documentaries that make it to theatres. There is no narrative here, and no narrator. What we get are a series of interviews, some instances of found news footage and a few uses of title cards. But really the focus is on the personalities at play, and the filmmakers let their subjects speak for themselves. Obviously there is some judicious editing here; someone chose exactly which statements would make the cut, and someone chose how to arrange them to make certain ideas more resonant, but overall the film feels more honest and real than any documentaries I've seen lately. And yet the film has a distinct theatricality to it, which would seem to play against the realism on display. For one, Manda Bala is shot on film stock, which gives it a theatrical, commercial sheen. For another, all of the shots are shamelessly set up in advance. How else to explain how locations are perfectly lit as characters walk through them, purportedly for the first time?

The theatricality does not, as you would expect, detract from anything. Instead it lends Manda Bala a more exotic locale. The stories being told are all the more shocking with they take place in the middle of a postcard perfect color palette, and everyone is lit like a movie star. Perhaps I'm playing this up a bit much, since there would be no mistaking this for a Hollywood production. And yet, for all it's production values and manipulation of the image, the filmmakers don't attempt to create any sort of story out of this, other than what appears on screen. Obviously our natural inclinations will be to view the kidnapper(who has, presumably, disfigured victims, and has admittedly killed several cops) with disgust, the corrupt politician as a scumbag, and the plastic surgeon with the contempt we normally reserve for plastic surgeons. But think for a minute, and listen to their words. Sure the doctor seems like a prick of the first order, but he is helping people who more genuinely require his services than the average socialite. The kidnapper uses heinous acts of violence against strangers for money, but in his eyes he's fighting for survival, not just his, but his neighbors, in a country where the government and the wealthy are bleeding the life out of them. He has the most striking moments in the film, particularly when he talks of his own children. He has 9, and his wife is pregnant with number 10. He seems to view it as the only way out of the entire mess, and dreams that one of his children may grow up to be president and fix his country. And the politician... well... he's still a scumbag.

The point being, none of these characters has any judgments cast their way. And that, as great as it is, leaves me a little lost. I'm not used to documentaries not telling me how to think. What is this new feeling? Is this what those public radio hippies call independent thought? It feels good. And I'd recommend it to anyone out there reading this.

The Church of Cinema: Lost Highway

2008-06-10T23:45:00.000-07:00

In the spring of 1997, my life was changed forever.

In the spring of 1997 I was out of high school, and doing nothing but lounging around and hanging out with my friends, working the occasional odd job for a temp agency here and there for spending money. Larger and more verifiable changes would be coming in the fall and winter, after I started going to college and began to expand my horizons past my basement apartment in my mom's house. And yet the spring of 1997 marked an important shift in both my perception of the world and my habits within it. Most of the time revelations are seen in hindsight, people rarely recognize life changing moments as they happen. But this time I did.

In the spring of 1997, Lost Highway came to town.

Lost Highway may seem like an odd film to lionize as much as I'm about to, especially considering it's reception, which ranges from outright hatred to bored indifference. A hardcore David Lynch fan is unlikely to point out Lost Highway as a pinnacle of his career, but to me it was an honest to god life changing event. In 1997 I had seen nothing like it, and I was completely unprepared for the film's dark world of sex, crime, doppelgangers, time shifts, mysterious men and dangerous women and just pure weirdness. Lost Highway opened my eyes to a whole new world of film that I didn't even know existed, and it shaped the course of my cultural cravings for, well, just over a decade now.

But let's back up for a minute.

Like I said, in 1997 I was still living at home, and while I watched several movies almost daily for this year long period, my tastes had not yet been defined. I was devouring everything I saw, but not really processing it. I'd like to say I enjoyed foreign and arthouse films, but really I was a blockbuster fan. I liked spectacle, and that's what I went for at the video store. That was on it's way to changing in '97, but I was still pretty blind to the world of cinema past whatever was in the horror or new release section of the local video store. I came to Lost Highway because of the involvement of two people. Trent Reznor of Nine Inch Nails produced the soundtrack and contributed two songs, while Marilyn Manson had a brief, brief cameo late in the film. Marilyn Manson and Nine Inch Nails carry with them some pretty negative and embarrassing connotations, but both bands were big in my personal high school life, so when I began reading about this new film both of them would be connected to, I became interested.

At this point I know I'd seen an episode of Twin Peaks; I'd flipped over to it one night because you couldn't open a single publication in the first two years of the 90s without hearing how great the show was. But I was too young, and came to the show too late, so it made absolutely no sense to me and I never returned(I would later, and that obsession would grow and deepen to almost Star Trekian proportions). I'd also seen Dune, but I only had vague childhood memories. My point being that I had no real idea who this David Lynch guy was, but several people in bands I liked had cited him as an influence, and he was spoken of in terms that made me feel as if I were somehow depriving myself by not seeing his films.

When Lost Highway was released, it took a few months to reach Alaska, because at the time there was only one theatre that ran arthouse films; the Capri. I miss the Capri immensely, even though I only saw a handful of films there. It was a tiny, tiny place with a postage stamp screen and some pretty dilapidated chairs. But what it lacked in luxury it made up for in style. There was a cafe attached, with some chairs and magazines, and a collection of old lobby cards and posters for sale. The place exuded a love for cinema, be it underground, foreign, old-time Hollywood, or unapologetic junk(Hitchcock posters shared the same space as DC Cab advertisements). Also it was the only place in Anchorage you could see movies not put out by one of the major studios unless you wanted to wait for video. When the Capri got Lost Highway, I made sure I was there on opening night. And then every other night of the one week that it played. Each night I went with another friend, and each night we spent a few hours discussing the film and each night we had another theory as to what it all meant, and what had actually happened.

I can cite some specifics, but I don't know how well it will describe the film. Fred Madison(Bill Pullman) is a man apparently unable to express any emotion in his daily life, as he lives in a large home with his beautiful, distant wife, Renee(Patricia Arquette). The only time he perks up is when he's on stage playing the saxophone at a smoky nightclub. He and his wife speak in monotone sentence fragments with each other, disconcertingly direct without actually saying anything of meaning, and they have passionless sex. The two begin receiving a series of unlabeled VHS tapes that contain footage of their house, each successive tape becoming more and more intrusive, finally showing footage of a distraught Fred lying amid the scattered body parts of Renee. Fred has no memory of this, but is still sentenced to death for her murder. One morning, when the guard checks on Fred, he finds instead Pete(Balthazar Getty), with a nasty bruise on his head. No one can explain how Pete ended up in the cell, or where Fred went, and the film never fully explains it either. The clues are there, but the answer isn't.

Pete is released, because there's no real legal reason for him to be on death row, and he goes home. His parents and girlfriend make some cryptic statements about 'that night', but they won't speak about it, they only say that he was with a man they've never seen before. Pete works at a garage, where he's become the favorite of over the top crime boss Mr. Eddie. Mr Eddie's girlfriend Alice is also played by Patricia Arquette, and she and Pete begin a very dangerous and very passionate relationship. I'm going to stop my description there, because to go further will not really explain anything, and will ruin some of the bizarre happenings still to come. And really, if you haven't seen the film I haven't done it justice. It's like a fever dream version of Vertigo(the film has more than a few allusions to the Hitchcock classic).

The film is full of mysteries, and piles enigma on top of enigma. Is the man in white face(Robert Blake) that exudes such creepy menace with Fred at a party the same man who was seen with Pete the night he ended up in jail? Are Alice and Renee the same woman, or are they two separate women that both men see as one? Did Fred switch places with Pete, or did Fred become Pete? You can come up with any number of theories, but none of them will be completely satisfying. Some reviewers have stated the movie is going for style over substance by not clearly defining it's world, which I don't see at all. Lynch's films have repeatedly put the focus on the mystery, not the answer. His original plan for Twin Peaks was to never solve the Laura Palmer mystery, but instead focus the show gradually on the town's other residents. I think this is key, in that decoding Lost Highway isn't the point. The point is to get lost on the journey.

After watching the movie several times with several groups of people, I eventually happened upon a theory that made the entire movie make sense, in a loose, figurative sort of way. I began to believe that the entire film was Fred/Pete in a fugue state, along the lines of Incident at Owl Creek Bridge. The idea was that the night where Fred became Pete was actually the night Fred was executed, and that the entire next part of the film was him trying to escape into a fantasy life where he's young, passionate, and desired by women. That fits, mostly. There's a few glitches in there, most notably the actual end of the film, but it could all be explained away. And that stuck with me for a few years. And I actually began to enjoy the movie less when I thought I had figured it out. Luckily that didn't last.

I recently rewatched the film, as it had finally come out on an acceptable North American DVD(the previous Canadian disc was pan and scan), and I tried to ignore my old theory and watch it again with fresh eyes. And I loved it. I saw that the fugue state theory doesn't really hold up. For one it makes everything in the movie- all of the clues- meaningless. The characters who repeatedly pop up in key scenes are now suddenly merely coincidence, and all of the doom-infused foreshadowing really doesn't matter at all. Some cynics may think that's the joke, that Lynch was merely pranking his audience, but I think otherwise. David Lynch is so specific in every little thing he does(although making room for some happy mistakes, like the inclusion of Bob in Twin Peaks), from building many of the props himself, to set design, framing, delivery and dialogue, that I think it all really must add up to something. But I also think he's removed a few clues, or obscured them deliberately. Like I said, the point isn't to know, but to wonder.

David Lynch is a director I've always felt I understood emotionally more than I've understood him intellectually. I can't dissect his films with a clinical eye and speak about them completely critically, but I always feel like I'm on their wavelength. His movies speak to some part of me that I haven't yet fully discovered, but that still affects me. I may laugh, cry, or become absolutely terrified of his films, but I may not be able to pinpoint exactly why.

As a film, Lost Highway may have it's faults(though you'll have a hard time convincing me of that), but in my life it's grown to something more. It symbolises the turning point where I stopped passively consuming entertainment, and began to hunt down the hidden gems. David Lynch was actually the first director where I began to understand what a director really does. I began to seek out films by certain directors, and I began to notice their individual techniques. I began to study films, notice things like writer or director or even director of photography. I began to ask what it means, or maybe just what it means to me.

The Church of Cinema: A Preamble

2008-06-10T00:05:00.000-07:00

I love movies, obviously, and I love my home entertainment center. I love DVD(and, slowly, I will come to love Blu-Ray), and I love popping a disc into the player in the wee hours before I go to bed at night. But above all, I love going out to the theatre. I don't do it as often as I once did, or as often as I'd like. Partly that's due to the consequences of having an 8-5 job, a child, bills, and a healthy ongoing relationship. But it's also partly due to the changing theatre experience. And yet, despite the fact that theatre chains are charging us more for less, and all major chains now play television commercials and military propaganda advertisements-sometimes under the guise of an exclusive 'short film'- I will continue to treasure the theatrical experience above the home theatre experience. There's just something to be said for surrounding yourself with strangers in a dark room while this fantasy plays out in larger than life scales, knowing that for those few brief hours you are connected with the people around you in your emotional responses.

Our local arthouse theatre, the Bear Tooth Theatre & Pub, which isn't quite an arthouse theatre but plays arthouse films more than any other movie house in the state, is a wonder. Great seating, tables or booths, a balcony, a restaurant on site with the best pizza in town, and a bar with locally brewed root beer, cream soda, or alcohol. All for 3 bucks a movie(they make their money back on expensive, but worth it, food). Heaven, right? Well, sometimes. Part of the problem, in fact, the main problem, lies in the audience. I love going to a movie and getting involved in the audience experience, but when you give people beer and pizza at a movie, they start to feel too much at home, and the Bear Tooth has the most vocal audiences in town. And not in a fun, Rocky Horror way, but in the way that they loudly talk to their friends, or forget to turn off their cell phones. This is something everyone has dealt with while out at the movies, and I for one have decided to not put up with it anymore. If you find yourself in a theatre, and your cellphone goes off, and you answer it, or if you have in depth conversations with your friends about what boys at school you think are cute, don't be surprised if I walk over and very politely ask you to 'shut the fuck up!' I do not tolerate people at the theatre who think they're at home. And so far this has not been a problem, most people are so shocked by a stranger saying anything to them about their bad habits that they apologize and spend the rest of the film in silence. I urge you to try it. You don't have to be mean, as I sometimes am, just quiet and insistent.

My other problem with the Bear Tooth is their increasing dependence on DVD. It used to be that all of their 'classic' films(every other Monday) were from old touring prints, complete with scratches and sometimes faulty audio. But now they have a DVD player, and use that as their primary projector when it comes to older movies. And they don't even have to be older films. Is there a foreign film currently touring the arthouse circuit? Well, if the Bear Tooth is playing it, it's likely the imported DVD version, which often has less than suitable subtitles, and has the added problem of occasionally freezing or shutting off.

I had an argument with a projectionist friend about this recently, saying that I preferred film prints, with all of their defects, over a DVD copy I can just watch at home. This is why I stayed home instead of venturing out to watch Carnival of Souls or Night of the Living Dead, two of my favorite black and white horror films. That, and the drunken Tooth crowd is not always very friendly to B-movies. My argument was that I actually kinda like the scratches and missing frames. They add character to an old film that's been around the block a few times. Her rebuttal was that, as a projectionist, she hates to see any imperfections on screen. I think I won the argument when we saw The Shining on Halloween(at a different theatre), and it was an old print with plenty of glorious imperfections.

[At this point I need to acknowledge that I might be a bit unfair in my portrayal of the Bear Tooth. It's a wonderful establishment and I look forward to going there every chance I get. My disappointment comes from how great the place COULD be, in addition to how great it already is.]

Maybe I'm just being an elitist snob, unwilling to accept this newfangled digital revolution, but I can't help it. I'm always going to prefer seeing a movie on film stock, much the same way that old music fans can't let go of vinyl. And in fact, I think there's a reasonable explanation for this preference. Scratches in the film remind me of my childhood. They remind me of watching horror movies on TV in the days before I could handle them, when every cheesy rubber monster or skeleton on strings sent me under my covers and probably scarred me for life. Even now, as a jaded adult who complacently sits through some of the most horrible gore, a simple skipped frame or scratched negative gives me a whiff of childhood terror. It's why I enjoyed Grindhouse so much. Particular Planet Terror which got the feel of those old late night horror movies down just as well as the overall look. And that viewing of The Shining still had the power to scare me. Part of it was the scratches, and another part of it was the crowd. It was a small crowd, but everyone there was caught up in the same sweeping waves of terror.

And I remembered again why I can't use a bathroom with a closed shower curtain.

The Pull List

2008-06-07T20:26:00.000-07:00

Every week I buy a small stack of comics. It can range depending on each week, but I'd say it's an average of 6 or 7. It's also, primarily, the only reason I'm holding on to my job at the comic shop now that I am gainfully employed full time elsewhere. Comics are getting more expensive, and although their still a few bucks each, that starts to build up when you look at what I buy monthly. And yes, I am cutting back. Here's a small sampling of my most recent purchases. I bring these up because it was a pretty good couple of weeks, and I think these comics would be of interest to people who read my blog.

Stephen King's Dark Tower: The Long Road Home #4(Of 5)
Script: Peter David, Art: Jae Lee & Richard Isanove
As I wrote awhile back, I have a sort of love/hate relationship with Stephen King's Dark Tower series. On the one hand I find the early books to be long winded and exceedingly dull, full of aimless wheel spinning. On the other hand, I really dig the first novel, and I found the final 3 books to be exceptionally entertaining, despite a few embarrassing missteps(the weird, out of nowhere Harry Potter references were cringe inducing). The first comic series, Gunslinger Born, was pretty faithful adaptation of Wizard & Glass, the 4th book(the comics will be tackling the story chronologically, not by the release date of the books). The oddly distorted art by Jae Lee and Richard Isanove, along with Peter David's writing, which can be hard to get into if you aren't used to the speech patterns of King's characters, gave the whole book the epic tone it deserved. Now we're into the second series, which picks up directly where Gunslinger Born left off, and is showing us a part of the story not really mentioned all that much in the book. It gives the writer a bit more freedom, and it's safe to say he's using every bit of it he can. I'll have to wait until the final issue hits next month to make any real judgment, but so far I'm not sure I like all the new changes. It was already established that this series is a reinterpretation, and not a strict retelling, but I can't quite divorce the story of this comic from the one in the books, and something in me keeps balking at most of the changes. I figure eventually I'll get over it, and nothing has happened yet that actually contradicts the book, so I guess it could go either way.

Giant Size Astonishing X-Men #1
Script: Joss Whedon Art: John Cassaday
So it's finally here, the final issue of Joss Whedon's incredible Astonishing X-Men run. The series was an immediate hit with fan boys, who quickly turned on it when the publishing schedule became... irregular to say the least. But shipping delays aside, the book has been consistently hilarious and emotional and epic, basically what you'd expect from a Joss Whedon project. It's saying something that Whedon has finally made me accept that Cyclops might have the makings of a true badass after all. The story line is supposedly in continuity, meaning that the events in this series have affected the overall Marvel universe, but it's also been entirely self contained, meaning that the Marvel universe hasn't affected this story at all. Bringing together plot threads that Grant Morrisson brought up in New X-Men, Whedon has mined some terrific storytelling opportunities that have been largely ignored by the rest of the Marvel universe. And here it all comes to an end. A bittersweet, entirely awesome end. I had chills. Warren Ellis is set to take over this title soon, and I love Ellis, but I honestly don't think I want to see another writer continuing this team's adventures.

Buffy The Vampire Slayer Season 8 #15
Script: Drew Goddard Art: Georges Jeanty
Speaking of Joss Whedon, things at his flagship property just keep getting better. Drew Goddard's arc, which garnered attention from the news media when Buffy had a lesbian tryst with another slayer, concludes quite spectacularly here. It's odd that my favorite moments in the series have mostly been by people other than Joss, when the exact opposite is true in the television series. While this issue gets a bit over the top in an enjoyable, but completely silly way with, say, the giant Mecha-Dawn in Tokyo, it pays off with Andrew's geekgasm as he watches from a rooftop. The ending to this story line is anything but neat and tidy, with some pretty doom infused foreshadowing, and some serious emotional content familiar to anyone who's seen the show(hint; when the characters are happy, bad stuff is about to happen). Any fan of the show should be picking this up.
P.S. Favorite moment of the issue; Willow's exchange with Buffy: And, just so you know, I never wanted to sleep with you either.

Trinity #1
Script: Kurt Busiek Art: Mark Bagley
(Backup story art by: Scott McDaniel & Andy Owens)
The first issue of DC's new weekly comic, following in the footsteps of the excellent 52 and the overall average Countdown. Kurt Busiek left Superman to write this, and at the time I was a bit depressed, since his Superman run has been one of my favorite reads over the last couple years, but now, reading this, some of my sadness has disappeared. The focus of the series is apparently going to be Batman, Superman & Wonder Woman, the holy trinity of DC comics, as they investigate the meaning behind some cosmically ominous dreams. This storyline didn't do much for me, and Mark Bagley was great on Ultimate Spider-man, but is less than stellar here. He seems particularly ill-suited to drawing Wonder Woman. But then came the backup story, which runs concurrently with the main story but from a villainous perspective. This was much more intriguing, with some creepy glimpses into the possible future of the DC universe; one, showing Green Arrow clashing with Ragman over who gets to guard Gotham City, seems to tie into the currently running Batman R.I.P. story that Grant Morrisson is writing. I'll be picking this up next week, and hopefully the quality of the first story will rise to meet the standard of the second story.

Final Crisis #1
Script: Grant Morrisson Art: J.G. Jones
Forget what you've heard about this being a confusing let down, it's all just over reactive backlash against the hype. I found this to be a pretty solid affair, although much less flashy and bombastic than most DC 'events'. Most DC comic books require a PHD in comic book continuity to fully appreciate them, and either I'm picking this stuff up through osmosis, or this comic book is toning that down a bit. I didn't have to open up Wikipedia once! Ok, but ONLY once. The story seems to be following some of the other DC books I haven't been reading, like Death of the New Gods, but it's grounded enough in the main stories that I had no trouble following along. Grant Morrisson loves 70s comic books, and he resurrects a couple villains here that haven't been seen since. As a primer it might help to read Justice League of America #21 or DC Special: Justice League of America #1, both released last month, one reintroducing the pivotal character of Libra, and the other reprinting his only previous appearance, from 1979. He's a cool villain, and the possibilities look to be just the kind of cosmic psychedelia that Morrisson loves so much.

Kick-Ass #3
Script: Mark Millar Art: John Romita Jr.
And here it is, the entire reason I chose to write about comics this post. Kick-Ass has been enjoyable from the start, with lots of sickening violence and humor, with a character that probably describes just about every kid(or man stuck in adolescence) that reads comics. Or, at least the vast majority of them. David is kinda a dork, but not a caricature. He isn't unpopular or despised, he has friends, he just doesn't fit in with the cool crowd. It's a much more honest portrayal of teenage life than most comics even attempt. Plus there's lots of violence. Did I mention that? In his free time, David reads comics, and has become obsessed with putting on a homemade costume, grabbing a couple of bats, and prowling the streets looking for criminals to beat up. Usually this goes wrong, and he gets beaten up a LOT, but he keeps trying. He becomes an instant sensation when someone puts a video of him protecting someone from gang members on youtube, and suddenly he's adored by millions. He starts a myspace page that people with problems can use to contact him, as we see in this issue. Things go typically awry and David seems to be about to get his ass kicked again, until someone very unexpected arrives to save the day, and adds another dimension to the idea of dressing up in tights and beating up evildoers. My pulse quickened reading this book, and I have made it my mission to annoy everyone into reading this book. So go do it!

Download

2008-05-27T20:37:00.000-07:00

I can't speak for everyone, because I am, unfortunately, not able to read minds, but I'm going to assume that most people are like myself in that we all think in literal terms. I mean, we all think in words, sentences and paragraphs. I do this all the time, I'll think of something as if I'm composing a letter. It actually bothers me sometimes, because I'll actually get caught on a word and stumble around trying to complete the thought even though the thought was already fully formed in my head. I'm only assuming that this is how most of us view the world and compose our thoughts; with language.

Something that jumped into my mind for some unknown reason is; How did Helen Keller think? I don't mean to imply that Helen Keller could not think, or was mentally inferior to others(quite the opposite in fact), but I cannot at all imagine how her brain must have worked. To have to piece the world together without a picture to go with it or a language to express it in. Of course, eventually sign language came into it, but that's still a stumbling block for me. She wouldn't have had a visual image to think with, or words to compose. I can't conceptualize how she must have seen the world and how her thought process must have worked. She wouldn't have had a visual image to think with, or words to compose.

Spout #10: Summer Palace

2008-05-20T23:42:00.000-07:00

Writer/Director Lou Ye's Summer Palace takes place over about 15 years, beginning in the late eighties and ending up in 2003. The movie begins as Yu Hong(a charismatically detached Hao Lei, mental note to look for her in other films) discovers she's been accepted to the Beijing University. Shortly afterward she has spontaneous, furtive sex with her boyfriend in a field. The way they move quickly away from one another, and the suspicious, embarrassed looks they give each other after the act implies that this is their first time. It also gives us some emotional hook to grab onto, since her boyfriend, Xao Jun(played by Cui Jin) will soon be absent until past the halfway point. Much has been made of the sex in this movie, primarily because it's so frequent and, some say, graphic. I didn't find this film to be anywhere near as graphic as most Hollywood sex scenes, with their fetishistic lighting and camera movements.

In college, Yu Hong is a solitary loner, smoking in the hallway because her dorm room is too crowded, and not talking to anyone until she meets Li Ti. Through her, Yu Hong meets Zhou Wei and the two carry on a passionate affair. Their relationship could be viewed as idyllic for awhile, but not to anyone paying attention. Yu Hong becomes unbalanced and jealous in the relationship, despite always seeming distant and noncommittal. Her private diary, which is narrated to us, reveals hidden depths, but she never allows them to show through until they burst forth in a destructive torrent.

The first half of this film, set in the late 80's, culminates with the Tienanmen Square protests, and while this seems like a dramatic backdrop, it's hardly ever utilized. We, the audience, get a few glimpses, and a pretty emotional montage of news clips(which would never have been shown in mainland China), but there's no context. Although the main characters are involved in the protest, we never see them becoming involved in anything. It appears they just went as a lark, not on behalf of some deep seated beliefs. At first I assumed I was merely missing out because, as an American who was only 11 at the time, I was not very familiar with the events surrounding the Tienanmen Protests. I thought that the backdrop would probably be much more self explanatory to a Chinese audience, but of course that would be incorrect. Details of the protests remain under strict censorship, and most people in China are unaware of what happened. That most iconic image, the lone man standing in front of a tank, was unidentifiable to a group of Chinese college students confronted with the photo on a recent episode of Frontline. In fact, Summer Palace was banned in Mainland China, primarily due to the references to the protests, and the director has been banned from film making for the next 5 years.

The second half of the film takes frequent leaps forwards in time as Yu Hong has a string of relationships and Zhou Wei moves with Li Ti and her boyfriend to Germany. During this period Zhou Wei and Li Ti carry on an occasional affair, and Yu Hong has an abortion in one of the most emotionally powerful scenes of it's kind I've ever witnessed. Yu Hong calls college the most confusing time of her life, but she's obviously trying to regain something in her sexual relationships, which are emotional and passionate, but always, she knows, temporary. She is of course pining for Zhou Wei. Although she consents to a marriage proposal from a kind man who genuinely loves her, we get the idea that she's only doing this as an attempt to stop her own personal downward spiral before it becomes truly destructive.

As the movie progresses in time, Zhou Wei and Yu Hong slowly begin to gravitate towards each others lives. Eventually they meet, and the finale of the film is quietly devastating in it's own right, but slightly marred by a frankly needless series of title cards that spell out what happens to the characters just after the movie ends.

Summer Palace is a film I'm actually a little in awe of, and feel some weird, half formed affection for, even if I don't actually like it in the technical sense. For one, as has been noted in just about every review, the movie is a bit long and meanders a bit too much, and yet it also feels too brief at times. Particularly the first half, which frustratingly avoids placing anything in any concrete context. And yet that, in retrospect, gives the film it's own strange power. It's kinda heartbreaking to think that writer/director Lou Ye is from the generation that protested so vehemently and fought to bring democracy to China's government, only to see their every effort wiped from the public conscience. It's not too hard to imagine this movie as his own response to seeing the work of so many quietly forgotten by his own countrymen.

Fun With Scammers Pt. 1

2008-05-19T20:26:00.000-07:00

A few months back I started getting phone calls, from a variety of numbers and names(turns out Automotive Warranty Service is the actual name), all out of state, that informed me there was a problem with my car's factory warranty. Well, this was puzzling, because at the time of the first call I did not have a car in my name, and I've never bought a car from a dealership(in fact, all the cars I've owned have been decades old). So naturally I just hung up. I got the same call a week later, and a few days after that, and so on, until finally I listened to the entire message. I could press 1 to talk to an operator, or I could press 2 to be put on their 'do not call' list. I pressed 2, which, it turns out, was a big mistake. Instead of getting a call every week or so, I began getting a call every day. Sometimes more than once a day. This has continued now for the past few weeks, and so eventually I pressed 1 to talk to an operator.

During my first talk, I was frustrated, and a little bit angry in the way I was speaking. I wasn't rude, or cursing at the operator, but I was noticeably agitated, so I could halfway excuse the person for hanging up on me. Not so the next day, when I calmly asked the person why I was getting calls when I don't own a car. She hung up on me too.

It's obvious this is a scam. I knew that from the time I got the first call. Anyone interested can follow this link to find a description of the scam and some really outrageous stories from people who unfortunately succumbed to the salespeople(including alleged retaliation for making a complaint with the BBB). But that's not the point of this post. From the moment I spoke to my first operator I knew complaining about this business would do no good. As soon as the bureaucracy catches up and begins to go after these people, they'll have changed their numbers and mailing addresses several times over. Phone/Internet/Mail scams are here to stay, it's up to us to be the ones to say no. So I've decided to have some fun.

I got two calls today. The first, asking to speak to a supervisor, I was sent to some bogus voice mail maze. The second surprised me, and I didn't have much prep time, but here's how it went down.

I was put on hold after asking to speak to an operator, and I got to hear the first two lines of Willie Nelson's On The Road Again several times before Mike picked up and asked for the make, model and serial number of my car. I, in as good natured a manner as I could, came back with 'Wow, I was on hold for awhile. Business must be good.'

There was a pause, and then 'yeah, we're doing pretty well.' It should be noted that during my previous dealings there was no pause, they quickly hung up on me or transferred me. I can only imagine that the pause came because politeness and joviality went against their programming. Like those robots in old Sci-Fi movies whose heads would explode when faced with some simple illogical riddle.

Still keeping the same jovial,purely-making-idle-chatter tone; 'ah, good. Stealing loads of retirement checks, then?'

Another pause; 'Sir? I don't think I understand you.'

'Well, how about you transfer me to a supervisor. Maybe he will.'

Another pause; 'What did you say? I couldn't understand you.'

'Well, I'll speak slowly; CAN. I. TALK. TO. A. SUPERVISOR?'

No pause this time, but a shitload of sarcasm; 'yeah, I understood that. Hold on.'

A click, some muzak, and then a dial tone. He'd transferred me, and then hung up on me.

It wasn't entirely clever, but I had no prep time. It did get my frustration out, and waste a few moments of their time, which kept them from earning anything. Tomorrow I hope to be better prepared, and I'm going to be keeping a log of my transactions. I'm going to see how long I can keep them on the line until they hang up in frustration.

So, anyone have any ideas? I know most of my friends are much better at screwing with telemarketers than I am(particularly Eric, who could go on for hours), but if anyone has any ideas I should use, I'd be much obliged. Check back tomorrow for more.

Nerd Alert!

2008-05-14T02:53:00.000-07:00

With Final Crisis just around the corner, written by one of my faves Grant Morrison(even if I have been a little let down with his Batman run), and Geoff Johns doing a pretty spectacular job of reigning in the often convoluted and ungainly DC continuity, I'm finding it a pretty good time to be a DC fan. Especially with the awesome conclusion to The Last Son of Krypton, written by Johns and his former boss, Richard Donner. The story started almost 2 years ago, and the last we've seen of it were the words 'to be concluded in Action Comics Annual #11.' That was 13 issues ago, and the wait has been pretty frustrating. But with this issue, with it's grand cinematic scope(a cliche when talking about comics these days, I know), and incredible Kubert art, almost made the wait worthwhile. I only say 'almost' because a year is too long to ignore such a momentous series of events within the Superman mythos. But wait, there's some things here that don't add up.

The story started way back when, with the arrival of an alien ship containing a young boy who exhibits the exact same power set as Superman, and who speaks Kryptonian. Upset with the governments attempts to isolate and study the child, Superman kidnaps him, and has Batman draw up a paper trail that turns the new Kryptonian into Christopher Kent, a cousin of Clark. Lois and Clark adopt the kid, and all seems fine for about five minutes until Zod, Ursa and Non(of Superman II fame) show up, and it's revealed that Christopher Kent is actually Lor-Zod, General Zod's child with Ursa from their time in the Phantom Zone. Zod and an army of Kryptonian criminals(also from the Phantom Zone), banish Superman to said Phantom Zone, and enslave the Justice League, setting up their own kingdom in Metropolis. It's no spoiler to say the Supes escapes, and seeks Lex Luthor to help him use his expertise to take down some Kryptonians. Cue dramatic music and intriguing 'to be continued.' Flash forward about a year, and it seems that the story is now wrapped up. But wait, what about that year in between?

And here's the problem. For that year, the rest of DC continuity was moving forward, with no mention of the Kryptonian invasion of Earth, and Superman figured prominently in that continuity. Meaning that he was obviously not trapped in the Phantom Zone for all that time. It would make sense to assume that those stories take place after the events of The Last Son of Krypton, and yet it's clear from the final issue that this isn't the case. (SPOILER ALERT) For at the end of the storyline, young Christopher Kent sacrifices himself in order to trap the Kryptonian criminals back in the Phantom Zone, and he along with them.

And now we have a years worth of story lines involving Christopher Kent, adopted son of Lois and Clark. We get to see him learning how to use his powers, moving into a new super-swank apartment with his family, and even meeting and hanging out with Robin(something the last issue paradoxically mentions). What happens to all of these stories now? Did they happen? If so, when? The Last Son of Krypton storyline took place in such a short time frame that there's no room in there for the other adventures to have happened. Do they get retconned out of existence? If so, how do you account for the several references to those adventures that are littered throughout this latest issue.

It's things like this that turn people off of comics, in particular DC. While DC isn't any worse than Marvel at these things, Marvel at least doesn't tie themselves into knots quite so often. DC almost requires a PhD in comic book history to understand everything in their books, and glaring errors like this just confuse and frustrate the fans.

The shame here is that Geoff Johns and Richard Donner have had a pretty splendid run for awhile, and this Last Son Of Krypton storyline had some pretty awesome beats to it(Lex's Superman Revenge Squad, with a trained Bizarro, an upgraded Metallo and Parasite being a highpoint). Johns' encyclopedic Superman knowledge, with Donner's cinematic take on the character, made for some pretty awesome reads. If it weren't for the delays in the title, everything would have been fine.

Where They Play The Night Music

2008-05-04T00:38:00.000-07:00

Several years ago, in my early twenties, following a seeming meltdown of my entire life(social, family and work), I fled the country, hoping what most people in my situation hope; that a change in scenery will bring about a more substantive change. I can't say whether or not that worked, but I did have a blast in London for a few months, and it did leave me with quite a few stories. I was only there for a few months, but I still like to think I 'lived' there, as opposed to 'vacationed' there. I say this because I did almost nothing that most tourists do. Sure, I went to some museums, wandered around and went to a few spots like Buckingham Palace or the Tower of London, but the majority of the time was just spent 'living'; socializing with some new friends and wandering around. Meeting new people and seeing new things. Most of my time was spent in a very crowded house in Harlesden Gardens on the outskirts of London proper, on a street that was just this side of 'ghetto'. I saw both my first full size, free range cockroach, and my first junkie injecting Heroin in Harlesden Gardens. Both in the same phone booth.

I went to clubs a lot in London. Well, not really a lot, but when you compare to my pre(and post) London average of never, I was a veritable club kid. OK, still not really. But I did go out fairly frequently with my flatmates. Hell, I even danced, which anyone who knows me will attest to being something I never do. It was part of that whole 'substantial change' thing I was speaking of.

Around 8 or 9 at night I would head to Notting Hill where my friend Asa(a tall, striking Swedish woman) worked at a Cafe Nero. After stopping off for the occasional bottle of Vodka and Orange Juice to avoid the outrageously priced club prices, we'd head to Trash via the Underground. Clubs in London are a lot different than the clubs I've seen in America. Basically each individual club was only open one day a week, with a different theme(and name) taking over the place each day. The club I liked the most was Trash, which played the wildest mix of music you could imagine, while leaning heavily on jangly Brit-pop. In between Morrissey and Pulp you would hear American tunes like Sweet Home Alabama. There was a joyous, communal feeling on the dance floor that I've never felt any of the times I've been dragged to a club here in America.

The doors would shut at 4 in the morning, and surprisingly at that time of night EVERYTHING in London is closed. I had imagined that London(in particular SoHo) would be bustling with activity and neon lights at night, but in fact the streets are quite empty. It's very eerie being on those well-lit streets, surrounded by immense buildings, with nary a sign of life to be found. Aside from the lights, of course. Asa and I would wait for one of the hourly double-decker buses, and make our way back to the house we shared with a dozen others, and life would be good. But before that, as the club shut down, they would play the traditional final song of the night; Dancing Queen by ABBA.

It may sound silly, but damned if that song doesn't now hold a special place in my heart. And perhaps that song was chosen for some ironic reason, something that people were really kinda laughing about. But I don't give a damn. At the end of the night, as soon as I heard that song start up, my immediate and continuing response was 'ABBA is the best band in the history of EVER!'

Tales From The Discount Bin: Wet Work

2008-04-30T17:09:00.000-07:00

I've got mixed feeling about this book, which was expanded from a short story that appeared in the Night of the Living Dead inspired anthology Book of the Dead. In many ways Wet Work is spectacularly, awesomely bad, but in other ways it's just plain bad.

Phillip Nutman does deserve credit for creating a fairly unique vision of a zombie apocalypse, where Comet Saracen rains down radiation that revives the dead and weakens the immune systems of the living. The twist here is that not all zombies are brainless, although all of them are bloodthirsty. For reasons not explained in the book, some zombies retain all of their mental capacities, and actively choose people to recruit to their ranks, saving the rest to live as cattle. Sounds promising, right? Unfortunately the book takes until nearly the halfway point to actually bring the zombies into the heart of the action, leaving them mainly on the sidelines while the action is focused on two disparate storylines, neither of which is incredibly fast paced or interesting.

Story A follows Dominic Corvino, an Italian CIA assassin with a penchant for Billie Holliday and silk Karate Gis. Most of his story is devoted to a botched job in South America and his investigation into who betrayed his team. It's no real surprise to say his investigation doesn't stop when he's shot to death by a fellow assassin, although it should have. I mean, you'd figure a seasoned CIA assassin would know enough to shoot someone in the head. That's common knowledge even when there aren't zombies running around. Story B follows Nick Packard, a rookie cop teetering on the edge of alcoholism as he begins his career on the mean streets of Washington D.C. while his wife is away to be near her dying mother.

While I can't say Mr. Nutman is a horrible writer, he isn't an especially spectacular one either, particularly when it comes to pacing. The book lurches unsteadily along, seeming to build up speed repeatedly only to veer away from any buildup of action to focus on some fairly tedious domestic action, and then suddenly picks up steam and races to it's conclusion in the last 60 pages or so. Nutman is the type of author who explains characters rather than allow them to reveal themselves through their actions, so it's hard to get fully involved in the parts of this book where we're supposed to be worrying about their predicaments.

On a side note, this book was written in 1993, and takes place in 1995, and yet the president, although never named, is clearly George Bush, and Dan Quayle is the vice president. It's never explained, although I am curious as to how he could have made such a mistake, or why he would employ such an anachronism. That's the largest, although not the only, error in the book. It's clearly stated early on that the Zombies feel no pain, and yet when it suits the story they are shown and described as being in pain from certain wounds.

Still, the book passed a boring day answering phones at a temp job(no, I wasn't slacking, they told me to bring a book!), so it has that going for it. And really, what's not to love about a climax that features a full on kung-fu fight between two zombies in the lobby of the Pentagon(which had been converted into a farm where live humans are kept to be fed to the politically elite?

Another in the Continuing Saga of the End of the World

2008-04-20T13:48:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite sci-fi/horror films, and based on a great Richard Matheson novel, The Incredible Shrinking Man remake had the potential to be a pretty fun film, with the right creative team at the helm. Of course, notice I used the past tense in that statement. The Hollywood Reporter broke the news the other day that there's a new director looking at this project, and it's none other than Brett Ratner, and the plan is now to turn the film into a comedic vehicle for Eddie Murphy, who apparently has had enough of fat suits and is planning on taking the other direction.

The only glimmer of hope is that Thomas Lennon and Robert Ben Garant, of Reno 911! and the awesome The State, are the latest writers to take a stab at the script. Unfortunately, their absurdist, edgy humor will almost certainly be whitewashed by the increasingly pedestrian Murphy.

Really, there is nothing about this story that I'm happy about.

We Now Resume Our Regularly Scheduled Programming

2008-04-14T21:27:00.000-07:00

In retrospect, Poultrygeist probably wasn't the best film to be eating a large meal at. But I couldn't help it; Bear Tooth has such good food. I can't sit through a movie there without scarfing down a pizza, or their Pesto Treats, or their steak and cheese nachos. If there isn't a law against going to the Bear Tooth without eating, there should be. But still, had I given it much thought, and considered that I was about to watch a Troma film, one directed by Lloyd Kaufman himself, I probably would have opted out of the Brewhouse Favorite pizza. Luckily food was delivered during the opening scene, which, as vile as it was, was still tolerable and well within expected Troma standards. However, a few minutes into the movie, when Michael Herz showed up and proceeded to disrobe while the audience got a way-too-personal view of his bathroom behavior, I pushed my pizza away, never to be touched again(actually not true, I had leftovers for lunch the next day).

To be honest, Troma films haven't changed much over the last 20 years(they've been in operation for over 30, but I only became aware of them with the Toxic Avenger in the late 80s), which is either a good thing or a bad thing, depending on who you ask. I suppose I'm of the opinion that it's a good thing, and Troma has certainly cultivated and appeased a very rabid audience with their shenanigans. I myself have grown past the time in my life where I avidly devoured Troma films and bought whole-heartedly into their gung-ho obscenity, but every now and then I'm in the mood for some mindless T&A, gore, and outrageously indecent humor(to call it politically incorrect would be a vast understatement).

And yet, with Poultrygeist, there's some sign of growth. Sure, the jokes are meant to offend more than to make any actual point, the gore is nonstop and amateurish, the cast is full of people who, though they lack talent, have no shortage of enthusiasm, and Mr. Kaufman seems to be of the opinion that fart noises make everything high-larious, but it all comes together much more smoothly than in any film of theirs I've seen since the original Toxie. Lloyd Kaufman(and co-screenwriters Daniel Bova and Gabriel Friedman) seem to have a pretty sharp satirical eye(the faux-lesbian, anti-corporate protesters all drink Starbucks), but for the most part are content to go for the easy mark, and opt for buckshot rather than precision sniper fire. Oh yeah, and it's a musical(at least for the first half).

A lot of credit for the success of this film needs to go to it's two leads, who are not just good in comparison to past Troma actors, but are actually decent actors.. Kate Graham(Wendy) and Jason Yachanin(Arbie, yes, all the characters are named after restaurant chains) play high school sweethearts reunited after a semester of college. Wendy is now a lesbian protesting the arrival of a new chicken restaurant because it was built on an old Indian Burial Ground, and Arbie takes a job at the place to spite/impress her. Of course, undead chickens begin to rise, creating undead chicken/human hybrid zombies. The two leads make the most of a script that occasionally asks them to pantomime wild sex with a cash register and cross eyed exclamations of surprise and show some real presence and comic timing. Kate Graham is particularly notable for her excellent singing voice, which is nice enough that I was paying as much attention to that as I was to her lesbian make-out sessions during the musical numbers.

Poultrygeist is the first Troma film I've ever seen in a theatre, with an audience not completely made up of my trash-loving friends, and I have to say, the change in surroundings did wonders. Apparently the audience the night before was no so appreciative, with about half of the spectators walking out, but my audience seemed to get it. Riotous laughter filled the theatre, and there were even a few claps at the end of the movie.

And so, take it from me, Poultrygeist is the best musical horror film about undead chickens with a scene in which a man grows breasts that turn out to be eggs that give birth to baby chickens and then he begins to regurgitate food for them that you will ever see.

Or at least in the top 5.

Just don't plan on eating anything else that night.

Send Me Your Mixes!

2008-04-02T23:27:00.000-07:00

Earlier tonight I discovered the site muxtape.com, which is a super simple form of music sharing. Basically you upload up to 12 MP3s in your own customizable mixtape. You choose your URL("URL".muxtape.com) and then send it out to your friends for them to hear. It's super simple, and not really an essential activity, but it's a pretty fun timewaster. I spent some time on it tonight, and made a quick mix, and it really couldn't be easier. Which is also a bit of a drawback. There's no real organized way to search mixes, although there is a large, constantly changing list on the homepage. You can't download songs from another mix, only stream them, and so far there's no way to comment on someones mix. You can add it to a small list of your own private favorites, but nothing else. So really, the only way people can find your mix is if you tell them about it. Also, you can only have one list per account, but on the plus side you can always change it.

Here's my first mix, which is really nothing special. I basically threw up a few songs that were already on my hard drive. And I don't usually keep music on my computer, so the pickings were rather slim, mainly some oddities I had recently downloaded.

I encourage you all to make your own mix, and send the link to me. I love hearing people's mixtapes.

Spout #9: A Peck on the Cheek

2008-03-19T20:34:00.001-07:00

Prior to A Peck On The Cheek I had no real experience with Indian movies, outside of some of the more notorious Bollywood knock-offs of American films. Obviously those films do not constitute the entirety of Indian arts and culture, just as craptacular diversions such as Epic Movie or the Larry the Cable Guy oeuvre do not constitute a balanced view of American culture. So I set out with the direct purpose of dispelling the stereotypes I had built up in my head, and hopefully I would be rewarded with an eye-opening, mind expanding look at a completely foreign culture. On that front it both succeeded admirably, and failed miserably.

A Peck on the Cheek is the story of Amudha, a girl orphaned by the violent uprisings in Sri Lanka, who is adopted by a well-to-do(I'd imagine upper middle class, like the Cosby's, would be most accurate in describing their station in life) family as a baby. On her 9th birthday she is told of her real mother, and eventually talks her parents into traveling to find her. That's the condensed version, but the film itself is much, much more than that.

A pre-credits sequence shows an arranged marriage between Shyama and Dhileepan. These scenes are short, but we see through their shyness and awkwardness at their first meeting during the marriage tells us these are good people, and the humor of that wedding night, and the few domestic images we get, only reinforce that idea. Unfortunately this happiness is not going to last. An idyllic day out, swimming and walking through the woods, is interrupted by a troop of soldiers marching through the woods. Dhileepan orders to Shyama to run to her father's, while he remains behind to attack the soldiers in some unseen fashion. We find out that Shyama is pregnant, and is sent out of Sri Lanka with a boatful of refugees by her father, and she gives birth in a Red Cross center. This is the last we see of Shyama for most of the film as we jump, post-credits, to the 9th birthday of Shyama's daughter Amudha.

Amudha's parents seem loving and wholesome, but they show some pretty inept parenting skills. Choosing to tell the girl of her adopted status isn't in itself a bad thing, but choosing her birthday, of all times, seems needlessly cruel. The parents take turns reacting in sullen disappointment when Amudha is less than thrilled by this news, and her younger brothers use this information to tease her mercilessly. It's understandable that Amudha attempts running away to her birth mother several times before Indira & Thiru(her adopted parents) agree to help her locate Shyama. It's a noble enough endeavor, and certainly made with only the best of intentions, but it shows a slightly malnourished world view.

Sri Lanka is still in the midst of a violent uprising, and bringing a young child into the middle of a guerrilla war may not the wisest of moves. But it is in these scenes that the film kept surprising me. Every time I settled in for some rote melodrama, the film took a turn into some fairly gripping scenes of urban warfare. Almost immediately upon their arrival, Amudha is slightly injured in a suicide bombing, and guerrillas are constantly lurking in the background as tanks and soldiers march down public streets. Still, the family perseveres, with the help of a local doctor who acts as their guide, and eventually they find Shyama, who is now in charge of teaching the children of the revolutionaries who themselves march through the jungles with automatic half their size in their arms. The few scenes in the beginning with Shyama didn't do much to establish the character in our minds, but despite being absent for 90 minutes of screen time, those scenes speak volumes for the type of person she has become, and the life she is currently living. This is a person who gave up her happiness, her child for the chance to rid her homeland of war and oppression, and in the end she doesn't even have the hope that her dream will ever be realized.

A Peck on the Cheek was miles away from what I was used to in regards to Indian cinema, and yet it still kept up some of the traditions. Several musical numbers serve to lighten the mood and keep the pace up, but they feel out of place and amateurishly directed, with the visual aesthetic of a skin cream commercial at times. The story was undoubtedly going to be a highly emotional one, no matter how you cut it, but a penchant for rampant melodrama actually made some of the scenes slightly laughable, to my Western sensibilities. Also, and this may be due more to my ignorance of the local politics, but I found the Sri-Lankan elements to be slightly lacking. Perhaps if I actually lived there it would be more obvious to me, but I felt like the violence was merely backdrop, and not something that was actually explored, and could have used some expanding upon.

All in all an enjoyable, enlightening experience. I hear good things about the director, Mani Ratnam, who seems to be a fairly popular filmmaker both in and out of his country. This film, at the very least, has inspired me to check out more of his work.

Tales From The Discount Bin: Richard Matheson Edition: I Am Legend & Various Short Stories

2008-03-12T00:14:00.000-07:00

This past week I rectified a hideous error, and filled a gaping hole in my pop culture knowledge by reading Richard Matheson's famous I Am Legend, along with a handful of his short stories. Previously my only exposure to Matheson was through the numerous films made from his work(which include three versions of I Am Legend and some of the most famous Twilight Zone episodes), and quite recently I picked up a copy of The Shrinking Man, partly because the movie has long been a favorite, and partly because the cover showed a man fighting a giant spider. And that's always awesome.

Reading the book was interesting, because, as my friend Rik pointed out, none of the film versions thus far have come anywhere near the apocalyptic excellence of the originals ending. I looked forward to a completely shattering, shocking finale. But, despite the fact that three films have thus far changed the outcome, the novel was still not as surprising to me as I expected it to be. That's the problem with immersing yourself into so much pop culture; eventually this stuff just seeps in by osmosis. I think, however, that if I had read this story fresh, without having seen any of the films, I would have been flabbergasted at that finale. Don't get me wrong, it's a killer ending, but the shock of it was ruined for me some time ago.

Reading the short stories so quickly after I Am Legend was illuminating, and helped me put my finger on what it is about I Am Legend, and Richard Matheson in general, that just doesn't jibe with me. As an author he's very dry, and spends more time focusing on the day to day mundanity of his character's lives than he does on the horror aspects. There's a section in I Am Legend where Neville spots a wild dog who has somehow survived both the plague and the scavenging vampires. For 18 pages he woos and entices the dog into his home, desperate for companionship, and we're given long accounts of him watching patiently as the dog eats food he's left out for it. Then, after grabbing the dog, we're given this sudden sentence; 'a week later, the dog was dead.' This is something Matheson does a lot; he spends all his time on the buildup, and then gives us a premature and almost incomplete finish. For the most part, that alone doesn't bother me. I enjoy the sense of how even the most horrific circumstances can become not only bearable, but boring, only to be punctuated by sudden, often senseless tragedy. My real problem comes in how far he takes it.

I've come to the conclusion that Matheson is that rare horror author who really doesn't believe in any of that supernatural hogwash. He repeatedly takes great measures to explain in scientific terms the reason for the apparently supernatural events. In The Shrinking Man I wrote off his psuedo-scientific explanation as an unfortunate necessity, because in the end the science made no sense and was unsatisfying, but I imagine Matheson probably felt pressured to explain things at least a little bit. In I Am Legend it's a little harder to ignore. I really dig the idea that Neville, an intelligent but not highly educated man, has so much time on his hands that he decides to study infectious diseases and try and discover the cause, and maybe cure, of vampirism. For the most part these experiments make sense and serve the story. The germ causes a severe reaction to sunlight and garlic(although only when smelled, not when injected, for some reason I don't think holds water), increases skin resiliency, so bullets wont pierce the skin but a strong blow from a wooden stake will. Other parts of the Vampire myth don't hold up; running water won't stop a Vampire, and a cross will only cause a psychosomatic response in Vampires who were once Christian or Catholic. A lot of this was pretty interesting, but after awhile I got tired and hoped that Matheson would shift the focus, since the scientific exploration eventually became redundant.

Perhaps more extreme an example would be Mad House, my favorite of the short stories I've read so far. It's a pretty unique take on the whole haunted house idea, with a man caught in a sort of feedback loop where the house has gained enough sentience to enrage the main character(by giving him splinters whenever he touches wood, or having rugs slip out from under his foot), and that man's rage in turn feeding the power of the house. This is all pretty evident by the story itself, and yet Matheson includes a scene where a scientist friend of the main character explains his theory about the house, and that it may be some aspect of science that they don't yet fully understand. He goes on a bit about physics and atoms, and it doesn't really explain anything concretely, but it serves Matheson's habit of making the horror more scientific than supernatural.

Most of the short stories he's written don't really do much for me, or at least not as much as his novels have(so far). They seem more like writing exercises than actual works of art. That's not necessarily a bad thing, and a lot of the stories are entertaining precisely due to the way he chooses to write them. The story Dance of the Dead is written as a story from the future, with little dictionary excerpts to define some of the unfamiliar slang, Witch War has a shifting focus of narrator that's a bit more subtle than most, and Dress Of White Silk is written from the point of view of a little girl around 8 years old(I assume) who's done something horrid that isn't quite explained. And that in itself is another major problem I have with Matheson; despite his long passages of scientific explanation, he never really explains anything at all. In his novels I actually really enjoy that. He gives just enough information that you can start to piece things together on your own, but not enough that he spells it out for you. But in his short fiction you're more often than not left with the impression that SOMETHING has happened, but you really couldn't say what it was.

Weekly Roundup; Movies 03//01 to 03/07

2008-03-04T17:23:00.000-08:00

One of the greatest things about having cable, as I mentioned last week, is the ability to watch movies that have been eluding me thus far. The thing is, I don't have netflix, and I don't have an active account at ANY rental place. True, most of the movies are repeated ad nauseum, and many channels insert commercials, but for someone trying to fill in the blanks of his movie knowledge, something like TCM, or even AMC, is an indispensable aid. A quick note; if you're the sort of person to be bothered by spoilers, you may want to watch the movies first.

The Ox-Bow Incident
Rating: 5

I think it's due to the fact that my idea of the 40s and 50s is so informed by the squeaky clean television shows of that era, but I am constantly surprised by the amount of cynicism, despair and overall bleakness that can seep into some of these films. Sure, I expect grimy atmospheres and unhappy endings when it comes to film noir, but when I'm watching a black and white western with Henry Fonda and Colonel Potter from M*A*S*H, well, I expect things to be a little sunnier. And so I'll freely admit to being surprised by the places this film went, and up until final showdown I expected rational shot to win out. Of course, that would have softened to impact and completely gone against whole focus of this film, which is about a trio of farmers accused of murder and cattle rustling and eventually hung by an impromptu, illegal posse.

Duck, You Sucker(AKA: A Fistful of Dynamite)

Rating: 4

This is typically the period I tend to associate with anti-heroes and unhappy endings; the sixties and seventies, and the revisionist westerns of Sergio Leone and Sam Peckinpah. This film may not be as grand and epic as The Good, The Bad & The Ugly or Once Upon a Time In The West, and it may not be as tightly woven as A Fistful of Dollars, but this is still a superior western. James Coburn plays an IRA member fleeing his own memories of being a revolutionary in Ireland who crosses paths with Rod Steiger's Mexican bandit. Steiger wants to utilize Coburn's skills with explosives to aid in robbing a bank, but Coburn seems to have other plans. This fits in nicely with Sergio Leone's other westerns, which seem to be the type of westerns David Mamet grew up on. Full of two-fisted action and ironic plots twists and double crosses galore. It's interesting how the film shifts it's idea of who the hero is. James Coburn, who seems to want to aid in the Mexican revolution, is also happy to remain in the shadows while manipulating Steiger, who wants nothing more than to steal a lot of money, into becoming a hero of the people.

Extras- The Extra Special Series Finale

Rating: 5

It's time for another credibility-shattering admission. I'm actually afraid to publicly state this, so fervent is the following Ricky Gervais has accumulated. But, wait for it... I actually prefer the American version of the Office to the bone-dry original. I know, this goes against everything pop culture holds to be true, and don't get me wrong, I like the original, and have mighty high respect for Gervais for getting there first, but I still like Steve Carrell and Co. better. I think it's because the British version of The Office is too realistic. The humor is buried beneath layer after layer of soul crushing depression, and I'm more often than not depressed rather than amused.

Extras, Ricky Gervais' follow up series(which aired on HBO) had much of that same attitude, showing how demeaning and soul destroying Hollywood can be, with the emphasis on failure instead of success. It's also odd that when the main character finally does get success, things only get more depressing. Andy Millman has success, but not respect, and although he's generally a good man, he never knows when to stop talking, and all of his faults are magnified for the entire world to see. The second(and final) season of Extras really veered into darkness, with some HIGHLY uncomfortable moments.. For most of this feature length finale, I thought I had misread the last regular episode, which hinted at some brightness in store for it's main characters. Andy Millman leaves his highly successful(but artistically hollow) television show, only to find there aren't a lot of offers for him, which leads to some embarrassing guest spots on trashy BBC shows, and, at the height of indignity, a spot on Celebrity Big Brother. Where it goes from there, however, was a nicely emotional capper to this TERRIFIC series. I'll stop talking about it for now, but I would recommend it to everyone reading this.

Weekly Roundup; Movies

2008-03-02T00:53:00.000-08:00

Lately I've had more time to watch movies than I have had to write about them. Actually, that statement is a bit misleading, because any time I'm watching a movie I could be writing instead, but forgive me, I recently got cable for the first time in about 20 years, so I've been overwhelmed lately by so many viewing options. Some of the movies inspire a few random thoughts, but sometimes not enough to warrant a full review. So here goes, my first weekly roundup of the movies I've seen, but don't think I can stretch a full post out of. A little disclaimer; these weren't ALL within the past seven days, lest you think I've done nothing but sit on my couch 24 hours a day. I'm being a bit lenient in my first post so I can clean out the backlog.

Justice League: The New Frontier
Rating: 5
I haven't read the graphic novel this is based on, but seeing how closely the animation follows the stylistic illustrations of artist Darwyn Cooke, I'm going to assume it's fairly accurate. It's possible that the comic book is a little more coherent, since the central plot concerning a new villain called The Center doesn't get nearly as much screen time as the individual journeys of it's heroes. The New Frontier is an alternate history story set in the mid-50s, as the Justice Society, disbanded amid McCarthyism and public distrust, investigates individually some pretty gruesome cult activity. While this is going on we get to witness the seeds of the Justice League, as all of the founding members of that group start getting their powers. As I said the central plot tying everyone together is a little vague; I'm still in the dark as to who or what The Center is, or who that man who committed suicide in the movies opening scene was(oh yes, this film takes advantage of it's PG-13 rating), all I know is that it all culminates in a pretty badass battle between the Justice League and some weird sentient island that spawns dinosaurs, and veers off into some weird, 2001, A Space Odyssey style mindfuckery. All that aside, the animation is stylistic and smooth, with some unfortunate CGI(something you can't really avoid in DTV animation these days) that isn't actually too distracting, and the voice work is across the board impeccable. The main cast is of course full of name actors, but instead of stunt casting they all come across pretty well, particularly Neil Patrick Harris as the Flash. Also, it was great seeing Batman in his old school, big eared costume, and a humorous, self serving reason for getting a sidekick.

I bought this film on blu-ray(making it my first such purchase), and despite some cool extras(including an awesome sneak peek at the upcoming Batman: Gotham Knight anthology), I have to complain about their presentation. The entire menu is one screen, and filled with text. Even on my big screen TV I couldn't read the options, and had to go by trial and error.

Hatchet
Rating: 4
This one wins the title for least appropriately named horror film of the decade. The cover features a blood spattered hatchet, and yet only once does the killer wield the titular weapon, although he does so memorably. The setup isn't even worth mentioning, because it's all just filler to get to the gory murders, but props must be given to a screenwriter with the wit to inject real humor into the proceedings, and a cast capable of pulling it all off. And I know it's not really worth complaining about, because all slasher films do it, but I started to get annoyed at the group of tourists stalked by a deformed backwoods maniac; every time the killer showed up, someone would get a hit in and incapacitate him, and everyone would run away. After shooting him, and seeing him fall to the ground, no one thought to walk over and shoot him in the head, or stab him AGAIN with the pitchfork once he stumbled bleeding and incapacitated into the mud.

The Matador
Rating: 4
I really liked this movie, about a burnt out hitman and a struggling, slightly emasculated everyman, but something held me back from outright loving it. I think it was the on-the-nose nature of Julian Noble's(Pierce Brosnan) breakdown. I totally loved the storyline surrounding the mental decline of this character, and appreciated how nicely it was represented in his life, and how he envied Greg Kinnear for the simple act of owning a home. It was the more stylistic flourishes that I disliked, such as the visions of Julian framed in a gunsight and screaming to the heavens, or of Julian jumping on a trampoline in a cheerleader outfit. This seemed a bit of a hackneyed way of illustrating something that was already perfectly defined in dialogue and character interaction. Still, I enjoyed this movie for at least aiming high, even if I didn't feel it quite hit the mark.

Freedomland
Rating: 2
The same can't be said for this film, which seemed to set the bar low, and not even try that hard to reach it. The setup could have lent itself to any number of superior films; a tense crackerjack thriller, a biting examination of race relations, or an emotional character study of a mother suffering unspeakable loss and an African American cop trying to straddle both worlds; that of the street, and that of the establishment. Instead the film shows absolutely no interest in really examining any of these aspects of the film, and it doesn't even seem interested in any type of story. People arrive at conclusions to the central mystery with no discernible reason, and not even the capable performance of Julliane Moore made me care about her dead child. Which is surprising, given how sensitive to the subject I've been since having a child of my own.

The Lookout
Rating: 3
I hate to get into the wishing game when it comes to movies. That is, I hate to say of a movie that it could have been better if only it had done such-and-such different. A movie is what it is, and saying you wish it had been different means you should have watched another movie to begin with. And yet, I still wish this movie had done certain things differently. I found Joseph Gordon Leavitt's performance, playing ex-hockey player Chris Pratt, who has a brain injury due to a car accident, to be finely tuned and deeply affecting, and his friendship with a blind Jeff Daniels felt real and rewarding, but the movie itself was full of too many cliches. It had an interesting central twist(pinning the focus of the film on a man with brain trauma), but the rest of the film was standard fare. In the way that characters would stand in the freezing cold and stare at the horizon to show they were conflicted, or the menacing character who only scowls angrily at people through sunglasses that seem to be attached permanently to his head. The Lookout almost seemed ashamed of it's thriller lineage, until the very end, where Chris, with fairly severe memory problems, must figure out how to murder two thugs and save his friend. For a brief moment there, the film embraced the two-fisted allure of the thriller, and offered a few genuine thrills.

It occurs to me that my description of The Lookout, and it's central character, sound suspiciously like Memento. I should note, however, that that's probably due to my interpretation, since I watched the entire film without making the connection. Chris Pratt's condition isn't primarily associated with memory, but he instead must make do with limited physical and mental capabilities. He's aware enough to realize everything he's missing, but not always aware enough to do anything about it. And I should say again that Joseph Gordon Leavitt does an amazing job here. Pretty soon he'll be getting reviews that call him his generations (insert famous, respected actor here).

A quick note should be made about the ratings. I'm stealing the system almost directly from Spout.com, since I find that one fits most intuitively into my viewpoint. I really have no idea what separates a B- from a C+, or a 7 from an 8, but the following system seems to work OK for me:

5 - I loved it
4 - I liked it
3 - I'm neutral
2 - I disliked it
1 - I hated it

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to watch Duck, You Sucker! so check back on Friday for what I thought of it.

Garfield Minus Garfield

2008-02-29T15:47:00.000-08:00

I think we can all agree that Garfield is one of the least funny comics ever to receive mass circulation. Garfield's sarcasm masks an entirely toothless, bland, inoffensive sense of humor. I guess it isn't horrible, but it's aggressively mediocre. Aside from that 'Death of Garfield' storyline(which is more a case of misinterpretation than anything else), there hasn't been anything in the strip to interest me since I turned 13.

That said, everyone needs to head over to Garfield Minus Garfield right now, where some glorious bastard had the bright idea to remove Garfield from the Garfield comic strips. The result is a hilarious collection of non-sequiturs and maudlin self reflection as John putters around his house, talking to himself and occasionally going crazy.

Download

2008-02-25T21:40:00.000-08:00

Well, let's see, it's been almost two weeks since my last post, which was a tiny, mini-review of Let's Go To Prison. It's been over a month since my last 'Tales From The Discount Bin', several weeks since I did my last 'weekly' comic book spotlight, and I can't even remember how long it's been since I actually reviewed a movie(Let's Go To Prison was more or less just some random thoughts I jotted down to keep the writing muscles limber). I'm going to offer an excuse, because it plays into the general train of thought I'm on, but for future reference, when you see a lack of updates on this site, you can rest assured that I'm either too busy, or too apathetic, to write. As much as I love doing this blog, I find that it's best served by me only writing when I feel like it. If I try to force myself to write something when I'm not in the mood, it tends to prolong the feeling of writer's block. But, there comes a time when you have to get right back on that horse. I have a few movies stacking up that I need to review for Spout, and a couple of projects I do want to get into eventually, and this may help to prime the pump, as it were.

So, what have I been up to in the last few weeks? Working, of course. My job is winding down at KTUU, and the fact that I'm now in my last few weeks before the automation robs me of a job may be adding to my general lack of interest in writing. I've been planning a vacation for mid-summer to Tennessee so that Amber can visit her father, and, oh yeah, I gots me a tattoo! Pictures will be forthcoming as soon as I can upload them. Pandora broke my digital camera, and frankly I've entered that unattractive scabbing & peeling period, and I should probably wait until that clears up before I show the world. Amber and I decided that, instead of diamonds on our 6th anniversary, we should get tattoos! It's something I've been pondering since I was 18, but I just finally committed to it. I think it's pretty baddass, and am VERY happy with how it turned out. And for the record, don't listen to anyone who tells you getting a tattoo doesn't hurt, or that it feels good. Those people are masochists. Or sadists who only want to see the surprised look of pain on your face as the needle starts punching holes in your skin. Imagine a continuous bee sting that you can't flinch away from. Still, it was an experience, and after awhile you stop feeling the worst of it.

The other big event that's been eating my time like nobodies business is Stephen King's Dark Tower series. After three tries, and over 15 years, I'm finally finishing the journey. In fact, I'm so close to the end that I'm fighting the urge to turn off the computer and resume the story, but I need to write something today, so here I am. The reason I've tried to read the series three times is basically due to the large gaps between releases. By the time the new books came out, I had forgotten most of the particulars of the earlier entries. It really was a form of self-torture, because I have come to the conclusion that most of those first 4 books are really goddawful. So why read them 2(or 3) times? Well, for the same reason I made myself finish Gregory Maguire's Wicked, or the Da Vinci Code; because no matter how bad it is, I can't turn away from a book(or series) once I've started. I'm in it until the end.

Perhaps it's because I read it in Jr. High, and everything your exposed to at that age holds some charm later in life, but The Gunslinger is still an enjoyable read. It's the next three books that lose me.

The Drawing of the Three, especially by the time I tried reading it for the third time, nearly threw me off the path of the beam forever. I enjoyed the hell out of the first half, where Roland wakes up after the endless night seen at the climax of the previous book, and begins to find doorways into 'our' world, where he draws three people to join in his quest. The first person to be drawn, Eddie Dean, was sometimes an annoying character, but he seemed true. I think that's because Stephen King had enough experience to get inside the head of a 20-something junkie, and was perhaps trying to wrestle with his own addictions through this character. The second character, Odetta Walker, was simply ridiculous. I buy that King can get inside the head of a strung out junkie, but I don't really think he has the life experience or imagination to get inside the head of a young black woman in the mid-sixties. Let alone a double amputee with schizophrenia dealing with racism in the civil rights movement. It's a problem King faces time and again. I get the idea that he really likes black culture, and he really wants to be 'down', but at heart he's an uber-nerdy white guy, which makes his endless attempts to seem hip and with it just sad and mildly amusing at best, and outright racist at worst. His attempts at writing for Black characters always slip into slightly stereotypical jive talk, or he employs the oft-used 'magical black man(or woman)' approach, where the African American characters are there mainly so that the white characters learn important lessons and defeat the baddies. Think of the old lady in The Stand, or Michael Clarke Duncan in The Green Mile, or even Halloran in The Shining.

It took me over a year to finish The Drawing of the Three this last time(I put it down for several months, unable to bring myself to jump back in), and then suddenly I was interested again and forced my way to the ending. The next book went quicker, but it took more determination to keep reading, and that's because the entire novel The Waste Lands seems like Stephen King is spinning his wheels. I guess it gets the characters from point A to point B, but so much of the book just goes nowhere, while King is apparently selling by the pound(a point King himself makes in the seventh book). Wizard and Glass is the favorite of many people, and while I enjoy the overall story, and it has a couple satisfying gunfights, it feels a little hollow to me. Probably I'm not used to Stephen King trying to be romantic, and it didn't feel natural. But, again, while this fleshed out Roland's back story, it could have been edited by a couple hundred pages and been stronger for it. And in the end it didn't further the story at all.

So imagine my surprise when I not only liked book five, The Wolves of the Calla, but loved it. Sure, it's a direct homage to Seven Samurai(or Magnificent Seven, take your pick), but it was just an overall fun read, with a quick-paced, intriguing story. The difference here, I think, is that King knew the end was in sight, and so wrote accordingly. The first four books he didn't know where to go, and so cast about aimlessly for awhile, but with the end in sight everything matters, and the books become eminently more readable.

Part of this is personal preference, on top of the aforementioned purposefulness. I'm a big fan of breaking the fourth wall in fiction, and Stephen King not only breaks the fourth wall, he brings it down like the Berlin Wall, putting himself into the story in a move that could seem egotistical(and sometimes does), but really gives the story a sense of weight and urgency. A lot of people cried shenanigans, but I dug it all. There are a few things he did that annoyed me, like naming the robot servants 'Dobbie' models, or 'House Elves' in slang, or calling the mechanical explosive balls 'Sneetches' and 'Harry Potter Models'. We get it, you loved Harry Potter, but naming fictional elements of a fantasy world for characters in that series is just silly. Others are more forgiving of this, because Stephen King has had elements of our world show up in the Dark Tower series from the get-go(the bar in the first novel contained several drunken cowboys singing Hey Jude), but the Harry Potter references were really, really stupid.

But those pale in comparison to his references to 9/11, which crassly imply that the terrorist attacks were real-world manifestations of his novels, or the fact that he name checks the man who ran him over as a servant of evil. I guess I'd be pissed too, but come on, this is a real guy, who made a stupid fucking mistake and had the bad fortune of making it with a world famous author.

I'm still a hundred or so pages from the end of all of this, and King always has trouble keeping his endings on track(remember the Stand? 800 pages of buildup only to have the literal hand of god come down and stop things at the last minute), but I'm hopeful. And if he pulls this off I'll happily reread the series AGAIN when he republishes them in a planned revised format that will eliminate any continuity errors and tie the books together better.

Let's Go To Prison

2008-02-15T14:53:00.000-08:00

I had heard nothing good about this film, and was expecting a pretty stupid movie, the way most comedies these days tend to be. That isn't a 'back in my day' attitude I'm taking, I'm just saying that ever since American Pie, comedy has become more mean spirited, more focused on bodily fluids and the wacky ways people can ingest/become covered by them, and more... unrealistic, to use a possibly faulty descriptive. What changed my mind was a fairly enjoyable cast(I'm a bit on the fence about Dax Shepard, but after this, Idiocracy and Zathura, I'm leaning towards liking him), and the involvement of Bob Odenkirk, half of the greatest comedy duo of my generation.

Now, lest I give the wrong impression, it should be noted that Let's Go To Prison is very mean-spirited- at least on the surface- and has plenty of gross-out humor, and is a tad unrealistic at times. So why do I feel so much more comfortable watching this than, say, Epic Movie or Dude Where's My Car? Because, beneath that nasty exterior, the movie is actually very empathetic towards it's main characters. They may get beaten and humiliated in ways meant to amuse us, but the movie is actually attempting to make a point here. It wouldn't work to say that this movie is a realistic portrayal of prison life. I mean, this is no Oz, but neither is it Hogan's Heroes. Sure the humor is played up, but it's more like they viewed the reality of the situation through the lense of humor, rather than tried to force screwball slapstick in between the horrors of toothbrush shivs and prison sex.

As John Lyshitski(Dax Shepard) says: It costs $54 a day to keep a person in prison, which comes out to $75 million a day nationally. That's $28 billion a year. When you think about it, wouldn't it be cheaper just to let us keep your goddamn car stereos?

In the end, I think I came away from this feeling much the same way I did about Idiocracy; wondering why the hell this movie hadn't been treated better by the studio. Although, to be fair, this movie actually got a theatrical release and I did see some ads on television, which is a helluva lot more than Idiocracy got. But in the end, this was a movie that the studio had no idea how to market, with a sense of humor more subtle than I think they were expecting, and some unexpected social commentary, and it kinda got dumped onto a few screens and then quietly forgotten until it came time to release it on DVD.

Download

2008-02-07T06:35:00.000-08:00

Well, on Tuesday I wrote a 'review' of an older Kurt Busiek JLA issue, and spent a bit of time praising his work on Superman, and not it appears that's all about to end. At least for the time being.

Newsarama has an interview up today with Busiek where he discusses his Superman run, and his premature exit from the title. Issue 675 will be his last, which means there are only 3 issues to go. With a storyline still ongoing, we may not get to see that anticipated return of Paragon that he had promised earlier in the year.

It isn't all bad news, however. He's leaving Superman so that he can focus his energies on a top-secret title he's working on with Mark Bagley(artist of Ultimate Spiderman's first 100+ issues), and he has a Superman mini that will be coming out sometime soon, as well. Plus he says he has plenty of stories in mind if he makes it back to Superman after finishing this project.

Oh yeah, and he said earlier that Arrowsmith may be getting a sequel series. So there's a silver lining in there.

If your interested in the whole interview, which is a bit dry, follow the link.

Back Issue Tuesday

2008-02-05T19:39:00.000-08:00

Justice League Of America #224 (1984)

This week's entry will likely be a bit short, and it will certainly be lacking in those nice, space-filling illustrations I usually scan. The reason, simply, is because this issue isn't very noteworthy. Yet. It's well written, is the first appearance of a sorta cool new Supervillain(Paragon), and is a cool example of the early writings of Kurt Busiek. Busiek has been a favorite of mine since his Superman miniseries Secret Identity, and was the sole reason I picked this issue up. Secret Identity, along with Tom de Haven's excellent novel It's Superman!, was what got me into reading Superman on a regular basis. From there I've followed Busiek around to his miniseries Arrowsmith(a cool alternate history tale set during World War I, with dragons!), his Aquaman run(which, while certainly the only rational version of Aquaman I've read, was still Aquaman, and kinda lame), and various other projects like Astro City. When it comes to comics I tend to follow writers(and sometimes artists) more than I do characters.

I say that this issue is inessential, so far, and that's mainly due to the fact that nothing introduced in this story carried over to any other title or story in the DC universe. The new villain, Paragon, was never brought back again despite the inclusion of a question mark after the words 'The End' on the last page. It may seem like, after 50+ years of comics history, every minor villain or hero would have been brought back countless times, but there are numerous examples of stories and characters that are ignored or forgotten by the comics companies. Just recently Grant Morrison's work on X-Men was completely ignored(if not written out of continuity entirely) until Joss Whedon ressurected some of his ideas for Astonishing X-Men.

In the beginning of the issue we see Black Canary about to interrupt a mugging, until the victim unleashes some killer kung fu moves on the criminals. She steps in once it looks like the vigilante is going to go to far with his punishment. The vigilante, we will learn shortly, is Paragon. It isn't explained right away what his superpowers(if any) are, but he quickly gains the upper hand in his fight with Black Canary. Luckily, Superman, Green Arrow & Green Lantern were all nearby having lunch, and with Superman's super-hearing they knew Black Canary needed help, and quickly show up to intervene. Superman flies in and delivers a blow that should incapacitate Paragon, but he simply shrugs it off and punches Supes so hard he flies off into the distance from the force of it. By the time Green Arrow & Green Lantern show up, Paragon is long gone.

Back on the JLA satellite, the entire team discusses what to do, and with some fairly convenient deductive reasoning, they narrow their suspects to Nobel Prize winning scientist Joel Cochin. The team sends in the big guns, and everyone heads off to confront Cochin/Paragon at his home, but unfortunately they haven't put much thought into just what powers he might have. Whatever his power is, he makes quick work of the entire team, knocking them unconscious and attaching them to a huge machine in his laboratory. It turns out Paragon has the ability to mimic the superpower of anyone within a certain radius(although only natural abilities, he wouldn't be able to mimic Red Tornado because Red Tornado is a robot). The machine is either going to boost his abilities so he doesn't need to be near a villain/hero, or destroy 80% of humanity. Maybe both. His exposition isn't very clear. Neither is his origin story, where he says his powers were natural, but then implies that he created a machine that gave him his abilities. In the end the team saves the day by having Superman fly away so Paragon loses his strength, and then the above-mentioned Red Tornado distracts him until the other members of the JLA can subdue him.

I'm not really sure why Paragon has never been utilized again since this 1984 issue, since he seems like he'd be a pretty good all-purpose villain. Someone who would be a fitting antagonist to whichever hero you wanted to spotlight. Whatever discrepancies I mentioned in his origin/motives could easily have been fixed or clarified with some simple exposition, and I look forward to this when Paragon makes his return sometime later this year. For anyone looking for a good Kurt Busiek story I can't recommend Arrowsmith or Secret Identity enough. Secret Identity is especially good for someone who doesn't really want to commit to the boy scout morality of an ongoing Superman title, but is open to the idea that the character can shoulder a pretty damned entertaining book.

Also, one final note on that cover, which seems to be designed after a famous image from the 1967 Spiderman issue 'Spiderman No More':

The JLA cover shows Paragon walking out of an alley where a trashcan is stuffed full of the accoutrements of various JLA members. Green Arrows bow(with a broken string), Superman's cape, Red Tornado's torso... and Wonder Womans bra. The most identifiable symbol of Wonder Woman is her bra. Which also means she's out there topless somewhere, which is certainly a thought that will please many a fanboy.