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As I entered the theater last night the usher who tore my ticket advised me to stay until the end since "something happens". What happens? I have no idea. I didn't make until the end of the credits. I didn't make it to the beginning of the credits, either, and I didn't even make it to 30 minutes before the credits started. Yes, loyal readers, for the first time since I fell asleep for awhile at a showing of "Van Helsing", woke up, endured another 10 minutes, and decided I'd had enough crap, I walked out on a movie.
Why did this happen? The poor quality, of course, but then I see a lot of movies with poor quality. "Click" was worse than "Pirates of the Caribbean 3" but I didn't walk out on it. Then again, "Click" wasn't five and half hours long. Ha ha! That was just a little joke. "Pirates of the Caribbean 3" isn't actually that long but, my God, does it feel like it. There came a point where physically I simply could not take it anymore. It was either 1.) Get up and leave or 2.) Literally gouge out my own eyeballs. But it also probably had something with the recent run of great films I've seen. How can you go from the glory of "Once" to this? You know how when you eat really healthy for a few weeks and then you decide to have a Whopper? What happens? You vomit. Well, last night I had a cinematic vomit.
I must have dozed off during "Pirates of the Caribbean 2" and not remembered because I was behind right from the start. Apparently there was a character named Lord Beckett in the second movie and he's attempting to eliminate piracy. Do you remember this guy? And apparently Will and Elizabeth are no longer on speaking terms but I'll be damned if I can remember when or why they stopped speaking. But we don't have time to play catch-up because we've got plot to advance, damn it! There's so much plot in this movie. So, so, so much. There's more exposition here than in "The Da Vinci Code".
Maybe it wouldn't have been quite so bad if Johnny Depp's infamous Captain Jack Sparrow had turned up before hour two (rough estimation). And once he does he's relegated to being nothing more than a supporting character. Come to think of it this might be the first movie in history that features nothing but supporting characters. I suppose when you have so much plot to exposit you just don't have time for a pesky main character.
I realized what I missed the most about the first one was how people talked. They actually were allowed to talk. It wasn't just exposition disguised as dialogue. Remember in "Curse of the Black Pearl" how there is that scene near the beginning with Captain Jack and the two British soldiers? There's a little bit regarding plot - the origins of the Black Pearl and such - but the script gives all three of them a voice. Captain Jack had that fantastic line, "Apparently there's some high tone and fancy to do up the fort, eh?" It's little, a throwaway, but it's real dialogue. Actual, unique dialogue. What happened to that? They have a scene in the new one that's a callback to the scene I just mentioned but it's all wrong. There's no spark. It exists simply to get Jack Sparrow from where he is to where he needs to go.
I honestly don't think Johnny Depp's phoning it in. I just think he's become too comfortable playing the character. He's too aware he's in a movie at this point. Everyone in the movie is too aware of that fact. The only who didn't seem aware of it was, I swear, Keith Richards in his long-awaited cameo.
This movie has earned some decent reviews based on what we'll term the Rocky Balboa Theory. Everyone expected "Rocky Balboa" to be terrible just because the previous installment of the series was so terrible and when it wasn't everyone was so surprised they gave it a pass. I don't subscribe to that theory. I subscribe to another one. Namely, why the hell couldn't they have just made the first one and left it at that?
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Monday, May 28, 2007
Once
Oh, heavenly father, what a magical movie this is. I know, I know, I know. You're thinking, what's the deal with Nick lately? Has he really become one of those guys who likes EVERYTHING he sees?
I assure you not. Maybe the stars are aligned. Perhaps the tide is high. Or something is in the air. Whatever it is, people, we're on a cinematic roll and I'm loving it. If "Waitress" was great, then "Away From Her" was slightly greater, and "Once" is greater than both of them put together.
The movie musical is not dead. That's what writer/director John Carney shows us with this film, and though it's not at all like old school movie musicals the music is still bountiful and the heart of the movie. It's more like an indie rock musical. The songs you'll find here are composed primarily on acoustic guitar, some on piano, and interwoven skillfully into the story. The story is about the music. The story is told with the music.
A Guy (Glen Hansard) plays guitar on the street corner in Dublin and is approached by a Girl (Marketa Irglova) wondering for whom he wrote the song. "She's gone," he says. "Not dead. Just gone."
She likes his songs. He invites her over to his place. He gives her a tape of them. They hang out. She plays something for him on piano. They sing together. They record a CD in a studio. Are they in love? Or are they merely each other's muse (which, let's face it, can be just as overwhelming as love)?
The Guy and the Girl communicate best - perhaps only? - through music. In everyday life they seem a lot more unsure. When she asks him again about that girl who's "gone" he strums his guitar and sings what happened. She has a scene later where she plays one of her songs for him and it's clearly her saying to him what she can only say through it.
Things will not be tidily resolved. They record that CD, yes, but what of it? Who knows? The movie does not say. Once they have finished recording the entire band goes to the beach with the recording engineer and goof around. There comes a moment, you see, when you have created a piece of art. YOU have. You put your mind to it, and you worked at it, and you accomplished it, and maybe no one will ever actually hear it or see it or read it or even like it but so what? You did what a majority of the population talks a great deal about doing but never actually does. This scene captures that feeling completely.
Of course, what would be the point of all this if the music's no good? Not to worry, though, because it is. Some of it is downright stunning. The song the Guy and the Girl play together at the piano store, watching the camera lilt back and forth between them, well, let's just say it caused goosebumps to ripple up and down my arms. One of those moviegoing moments when I nearly stood up and cheered.
I yammer on this blog (and in person) about films I adore and how people should see them and maybe those people will like them and maybe they won't. But I know the relationship many of my friends have with music. It's the same as mine. Passionate to a degree I don't have to time to sum up here. And if that's how you feel about music, then you should see this movie without delay. You will understand it. You will feel it, deep, deep down inside your soul. (You might even shed a few tears of cinematic happiness.)
I've seen a lot of great movies the last two years, no question about it, but I had not seen a masterpiece in those two years. I'm happy to report that has now changed.
I assure you not. Maybe the stars are aligned. Perhaps the tide is high. Or something is in the air. Whatever it is, people, we're on a cinematic roll and I'm loving it. If "Waitress" was great, then "Away From Her" was slightly greater, and "Once" is greater than both of them put together.
The movie musical is not dead. That's what writer/director John Carney shows us with this film, and though it's not at all like old school movie musicals the music is still bountiful and the heart of the movie. It's more like an indie rock musical. The songs you'll find here are composed primarily on acoustic guitar, some on piano, and interwoven skillfully into the story. The story is about the music. The story is told with the music.
A Guy (Glen Hansard) plays guitar on the street corner in Dublin and is approached by a Girl (Marketa Irglova) wondering for whom he wrote the song. "She's gone," he says. "Not dead. Just gone."
She likes his songs. He invites her over to his place. He gives her a tape of them. They hang out. She plays something for him on piano. They sing together. They record a CD in a studio. Are they in love? Or are they merely each other's muse (which, let's face it, can be just as overwhelming as love)?
The Guy and the Girl communicate best - perhaps only? - through music. In everyday life they seem a lot more unsure. When she asks him again about that girl who's "gone" he strums his guitar and sings what happened. She has a scene later where she plays one of her songs for him and it's clearly her saying to him what she can only say through it.
Things will not be tidily resolved. They record that CD, yes, but what of it? Who knows? The movie does not say. Once they have finished recording the entire band goes to the beach with the recording engineer and goof around. There comes a moment, you see, when you have created a piece of art. YOU have. You put your mind to it, and you worked at it, and you accomplished it, and maybe no one will ever actually hear it or see it or read it or even like it but so what? You did what a majority of the population talks a great deal about doing but never actually does. This scene captures that feeling completely.
Of course, what would be the point of all this if the music's no good? Not to worry, though, because it is. Some of it is downright stunning. The song the Guy and the Girl play together at the piano store, watching the camera lilt back and forth between them, well, let's just say it caused goosebumps to ripple up and down my arms. One of those moviegoing moments when I nearly stood up and cheered.
I yammer on this blog (and in person) about films I adore and how people should see them and maybe those people will like them and maybe they won't. But I know the relationship many of my friends have with music. It's the same as mine. Passionate to a degree I don't have to time to sum up here. And if that's how you feel about music, then you should see this movie without delay. You will understand it. You will feel it, deep, deep down inside your soul. (You might even shed a few tears of cinematic happiness.)
I've seen a lot of great movies the last two years, no question about it, but I had not seen a masterpiece in those two years. I'm happy to report that has now changed.
Friday, May 25, 2007
I Want to be Captain Jack Sparrow
(I originally wrote this essay in a state of jubilee - and accompanied by a few rum drinks, if memory serves - a few days after seeing the very first "Pirates of the Caribbean" movie way back in 2003. I thought it would be appropriate to re-post in on the release date of the trilogy's conclusion (maybe). And despite the poor quality of the trilogy's second installment last year I still believe every word of it.)
I want to be Captain Jack Sparrow. It’s just that simple.
For those not in the so-called loop, Captain Jack Sparrow is the character portrayed by Johnny Depp in “Pirates of the Caribbean”. And let me be as blunt as I can – Johnny Depp should win an Oscar for this performance. It’s cut and dried – no questions – I’m right and if you disagree you’re wrong. The cinema was invented to provide a place for things such as Johnny Depp’s creation here. The level of his acting is so high he is the first actor to seriously contend with the Olympus Mons of comedic feats – George C. Scott in “Dr. Strangelove”. In fact, it may be the finest turn by anyone, in any genre, of the last 10 years.
Captain Jack’s entrance to the film is the stuff of screen legend. I don’t want to ruin it for anyone who may not have seen it but let’s just say it stands with the likes of Harry Lime appearing in the doorway in “The Third Man” and Henry Fonda emerging from the underbrush in “Once Upon a Time in the West”. It also signals the way Depp will be playing his character.
The fact is comic acting is much trickier and in many cases far more subtle than dramatic acting. You can’t afford to wink at yourself or at the movie when in a comedy. And never once does Depp wink. What his character is doing through the course of the entire film is – to the character – completely earnest. Or as the esteemed film critic Roger Ebert once wrote, “People trying to be funny are never as funny as people trying to serious and failing.” And Captain Jack Sparrow is trying hard to be serious though his clear indulgences with rum and too much time spent in the sun has left him a bit wobbly – and funny, though he doesn’t know it.
Let’s examine the scene in which Captain Jack Sparrow is on the verge of being hanged. Most actors would go overboard the wrong way – either they would get too morose or start tossing off nervous one-liners. But Depp keeps his character the way it’s been all along. They read off a list of the Captain’s misdeeds and when he is reminded of his impersonation of a clergyman what does the Captain do? He chuckles with delight at this remembrance – even though he’s about to be tied up in a noose. That’s brilliant, and that’s the key. Never betray your character.
But my yearning to be Captain Jack Sparrow goes above and beyond Johnny Depp’s acting abilities. No, Captain Jack Sparrow’s life is one we can all idolize. He just sails around in search of adventure, constantly clinging to a bottle of rum, and occasionally sleeping with a prostitute missing a few teeth.
I often desire the search for adventure. The dream of taking a road trip without purpose or aim is what helps to maintain my sanity. Captain Jack Sparrow’s entire life is that road trip. I also think anyone that knows me should be well aware of my fantasies to mince about all day with a bottle of rum. Who among us wouldn’t have that fantasy? And what of sleeping with a prostitute missing a few teeth? I can’t get a woman with teeth so what’s one without a few? It’s a woman, that’s what. I’ll take it, sir.
"Hey," you’re saying right now, "he’s just a movie character. He's make-believe." That’s precisely the point. Freedom is make-believe, as far as I'm concerned, and I yearn to have it – just like Captain Jack Sparrow. Ahead of him are sharks and, maybe, the gallows. Behind him is the pursuing British army. But as long as you remember to put the Captain before his name, he’ll be okay. Even when he’s stranded on the island and death is staring him in the face, what’s his response? Ah, the hell with it. Let’s drink rum.
So if a cool guy ever wants to rumble at the bar, I’ll dash to the bathroom, apply a smattering of eye-liner, and recite in my finest pirate dialect, “You forgot one important thing, mate. I’m Captain Jack Sparrow.” And then the cool guy will beat the snot out of me.
And then I’ll order a rum and Coke.
Elizabeth Swan: "So that's it? That's the secret? The grand adventurer, the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow, all he did was lay on a beach for three days drinking rum?"
Captain Jack Sparrow: "Welcome to the Caribbean, love."
I want to be Captain Jack Sparrow. It’s just that simple.
For those not in the so-called loop, Captain Jack Sparrow is the character portrayed by Johnny Depp in “Pirates of the Caribbean”. And let me be as blunt as I can – Johnny Depp should win an Oscar for this performance. It’s cut and dried – no questions – I’m right and if you disagree you’re wrong. The cinema was invented to provide a place for things such as Johnny Depp’s creation here. The level of his acting is so high he is the first actor to seriously contend with the Olympus Mons of comedic feats – George C. Scott in “Dr. Strangelove”. In fact, it may be the finest turn by anyone, in any genre, of the last 10 years.
Captain Jack’s entrance to the film is the stuff of screen legend. I don’t want to ruin it for anyone who may not have seen it but let’s just say it stands with the likes of Harry Lime appearing in the doorway in “The Third Man” and Henry Fonda emerging from the underbrush in “Once Upon a Time in the West”. It also signals the way Depp will be playing his character.
The fact is comic acting is much trickier and in many cases far more subtle than dramatic acting. You can’t afford to wink at yourself or at the movie when in a comedy. And never once does Depp wink. What his character is doing through the course of the entire film is – to the character – completely earnest. Or as the esteemed film critic Roger Ebert once wrote, “People trying to be funny are never as funny as people trying to serious and failing.” And Captain Jack Sparrow is trying hard to be serious though his clear indulgences with rum and too much time spent in the sun has left him a bit wobbly – and funny, though he doesn’t know it.
Let’s examine the scene in which Captain Jack Sparrow is on the verge of being hanged. Most actors would go overboard the wrong way – either they would get too morose or start tossing off nervous one-liners. But Depp keeps his character the way it’s been all along. They read off a list of the Captain’s misdeeds and when he is reminded of his impersonation of a clergyman what does the Captain do? He chuckles with delight at this remembrance – even though he’s about to be tied up in a noose. That’s brilliant, and that’s the key. Never betray your character.
But my yearning to be Captain Jack Sparrow goes above and beyond Johnny Depp’s acting abilities. No, Captain Jack Sparrow’s life is one we can all idolize. He just sails around in search of adventure, constantly clinging to a bottle of rum, and occasionally sleeping with a prostitute missing a few teeth.
I often desire the search for adventure. The dream of taking a road trip without purpose or aim is what helps to maintain my sanity. Captain Jack Sparrow’s entire life is that road trip. I also think anyone that knows me should be well aware of my fantasies to mince about all day with a bottle of rum. Who among us wouldn’t have that fantasy? And what of sleeping with a prostitute missing a few teeth? I can’t get a woman with teeth so what’s one without a few? It’s a woman, that’s what. I’ll take it, sir.
"Hey," you’re saying right now, "he’s just a movie character. He's make-believe." That’s precisely the point. Freedom is make-believe, as far as I'm concerned, and I yearn to have it – just like Captain Jack Sparrow. Ahead of him are sharks and, maybe, the gallows. Behind him is the pursuing British army. But as long as you remember to put the Captain before his name, he’ll be okay. Even when he’s stranded on the island and death is staring him in the face, what’s his response? Ah, the hell with it. Let’s drink rum.
So if a cool guy ever wants to rumble at the bar, I’ll dash to the bathroom, apply a smattering of eye-liner, and recite in my finest pirate dialect, “You forgot one important thing, mate. I’m Captain Jack Sparrow.” And then the cool guy will beat the snot out of me.
And then I’ll order a rum and Coke.
Elizabeth Swan: "So that's it? That's the secret? The grand adventurer, the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow, all he did was lay on a beach for three days drinking rum?"
Captain Jack Sparrow: "Welcome to the Caribbean, love."
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Away From Her
So when exactly did May become as good a moviegoing month as December? I'm confused. I saw "Waitress" last week and figured I wouldn't see anything as good until the leaves had started to change color and, by golly, it's only a week later and I've already seen something better. (Thank you, gods of cinema.)
"Away From Her" is the writing (based on a short story) and directorial debut of actress Sarah Polley. She's always been a subtle, graceful, nuanced actress and so I'm not at all surprised to find those three qualities in abundance with her behind the camera.
The legendary Julie Christie and Gordon Pinset play Fiona and Grant, a couple that have been married for 44 years. But Fiona is beginning to lose her memory. We see this right from the beginning and that beginning lays down the law in regards to how good this movie is going to be. Fiona takes a just-washed frying pan and puts it in the freezer. That's it, you ask? But the way it's done, and acted, it's perfect. It's heartbreaking. And it's typical of the film. Little moments translate into the biggest. It's a sign of the filmmaker trusting his or her story and letting the movie breathe.
Fiona's memory gets very worse very quickly and it becomes clear to Fiona, and probably to Grant as well (though he wouldn't admit it), that she will need to go to a care facility. The story is then told from Grant's point of view as he must cope with the person he's loved for so long slowly vanishing and, essentially, turning into someone else.
There was a point several years ago when I made it a mission to seek out Julie Christie's work. I watched many of her films. "Don't Look Now". "Darling". "Shampoo". She's an amazing actress and she's amazing here. She still looks beautiful but she is not afraid to let herself appear haggard when the movie requires it. She perfectly captures a woman who realizes what's happening to her and meets it head-on with a quiet dignity. There's a moment when Fiona says to her husband something to the effect of, We need to handle this with a little grace. And all I could think was, a little grace? Oh no, Ms. Christie. That's one quality you've got in spades.
Pinset (this is the first time I've encountered him) is her equal. Much of the movie relys on quiet moments with him, his reaction shots. That's not easy. And he's up to the task. While he clearly loves his wife he also hints at a sadness, and a regret, which the movie refuses to spell out in obvious terms.
Mention must also be made of the female assistant at the care facility with whom Grant forges a friendship. So often this type of character is relegated to one note - sometimes even less - but in this instance the trend is averted.
"Away From Her" is the writing (based on a short story) and directorial debut of actress Sarah Polley. She's always been a subtle, graceful, nuanced actress and so I'm not at all surprised to find those three qualities in abundance with her behind the camera.
The legendary Julie Christie and Gordon Pinset play Fiona and Grant, a couple that have been married for 44 years. But Fiona is beginning to lose her memory. We see this right from the beginning and that beginning lays down the law in regards to how good this movie is going to be. Fiona takes a just-washed frying pan and puts it in the freezer. That's it, you ask? But the way it's done, and acted, it's perfect. It's heartbreaking. And it's typical of the film. Little moments translate into the biggest. It's a sign of the filmmaker trusting his or her story and letting the movie breathe.
Fiona's memory gets very worse very quickly and it becomes clear to Fiona, and probably to Grant as well (though he wouldn't admit it), that she will need to go to a care facility. The story is then told from Grant's point of view as he must cope with the person he's loved for so long slowly vanishing and, essentially, turning into someone else.
There was a point several years ago when I made it a mission to seek out Julie Christie's work. I watched many of her films. "Don't Look Now". "Darling". "Shampoo". She's an amazing actress and she's amazing here. She still looks beautiful but she is not afraid to let herself appear haggard when the movie requires it. She perfectly captures a woman who realizes what's happening to her and meets it head-on with a quiet dignity. There's a moment when Fiona says to her husband something to the effect of, We need to handle this with a little grace. And all I could think was, a little grace? Oh no, Ms. Christie. That's one quality you've got in spades.
Pinset (this is the first time I've encountered him) is her equal. Much of the movie relys on quiet moments with him, his reaction shots. That's not easy. And he's up to the task. While he clearly loves his wife he also hints at a sadness, and a regret, which the movie refuses to spell out in obvious terms.
Mention must also be made of the female assistant at the care facility with whom Grant forges a friendship. So often this type of character is relegated to one note - sometimes even less - but in this instance the trend is averted.
At first glance the premise probably appears to have Lifetime written all over it. But it's not that way at all. It's not a tear-jerker (well, it's not specifically trying to be a tear-jerker) and it doesn't sum up everything neatly and its topic never outweighs its characters. This is a subtle, delicate piece of filmmaking. Dare I even say it's a semi-genius piece of filmmaking? (I did just say it.)
Like I said, Sarah Polley was always a fantastic actress. And from the looks of things she is going to be a fantastic director, too. A lot of actors who direct make one film and then wait another 10 years or so to make another one. They dabble in it. All I ask of Sarah Polley is that she not just dabble in it.
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
The Force Is Still With Me
This week is the 30th Anniversary of the release of an itsy-bitsy, teeny-weeny movie you may or may have not heard of that changed cinema (and - oh well, why not? - the world) forever and ever entitled "Star Wars". Being a young male during the time the first trio of movies were beyond huge it's safe to say they meant an awful lot to me.
"Star Wars" affected all of us who are facing the dreaded age of 30 this year. We all had plastic light sabers and countless action figures and perhaps even Star Wars Bubble Bath (not that I'm saying I did). But there was something more at play here. "Star Wars" opened up our imaginations. Without it how could my bedroom ever have become the cockpit of the Millenium Falcon? How could I ever have leapt from the couch to the chair in my basement on Waukee Avenue as if I was Luke Skywalker, with Princess Leia dangling on me, swinging across the Death Star chasm? How could I ever have feigned that a plastic egg beater was a laser blaster when pretending to be Han Solo? We all wished we possessed the bravado to fight back against something, anything as tyrannical as the galactic empire.
"Star Wars", see, knew what it was like to be a kid in a little town who dreamed dearly of escaping it for something bigger and grander. When Obi-Wan-Kenobi advises Luke that he must accompany him on his journey to Alderan and Luke hangs his head and says he can't because it's so "far away", I felt that. Every kid I knew felt that.
It is difficult to now address those landmark films without addressing, or at least thinking about, the more recent and less landmark prequels. And that's a travesty. Yes, the first one made me want to weep alone in my room and the third one made me want to drink myself into a stupor so I wouldn't have to remember it (I still have not seen the second one, and have since decided I never, ever will) but I've come to a place where I choose to not acknowledge their existence. It's really quite simple and you can do it, too. (I've also stopped acknowledging the existence of the Bruce Springsteen song "Real Man".)
There is a specific reason the new movies were not as good as the old ones and there is a reason the phenomenon of "Star Wars" did not catch on with today's youth in the same way it caught on with those of my generation. It didn't root itself to anything but CGI and plot mechanics. The audience was given nothing with which to identify.
"Star Wars" is often talked about for its scenes of spaceships and laser guns and light sabers and groundbreaking special effects but none of that has anything to do with the single scene I remember the most fondly from any of them. It's when Luke has been arguing with his Uncle and Aunt about going to the Academy. Angered, Luke gets up from the table and marches to the door.
Aunt Beru: "Where are you going?"
Luke: "It looks like I'm going nowhere."
And then he goes outside and puts one leg up and looks off into the distance at the twin suns as the music swells oh so passionately and brilliantly and, damn it, even now - at 29 years of age - I still feel my heart crack. That's what the original movie was about! It was about the human spirit! It was about your dreams, how you yearned for them to come true and how one farm kid from Tatooine watched as they did come true. And when he marches down that aisle in that huge hall and gets that medal, well, I get the chills just thinking about it.
"Star Wars" is still to this day the most pure, most inspiring tale I've ever witnessed of the most simple of all stories - good triumphing over evil. And that's why, even though it is now 30 years old, it is still as new and vibrant as ever. That's why it will never be forgotten. That's why it's ageless.
"Star Wars" affected all of us who are facing the dreaded age of 30 this year. We all had plastic light sabers and countless action figures and perhaps even Star Wars Bubble Bath (not that I'm saying I did). But there was something more at play here. "Star Wars" opened up our imaginations. Without it how could my bedroom ever have become the cockpit of the Millenium Falcon? How could I ever have leapt from the couch to the chair in my basement on Waukee Avenue as if I was Luke Skywalker, with Princess Leia dangling on me, swinging across the Death Star chasm? How could I ever have feigned that a plastic egg beater was a laser blaster when pretending to be Han Solo? We all wished we possessed the bravado to fight back against something, anything as tyrannical as the galactic empire.
"Star Wars", see, knew what it was like to be a kid in a little town who dreamed dearly of escaping it for something bigger and grander. When Obi-Wan-Kenobi advises Luke that he must accompany him on his journey to Alderan and Luke hangs his head and says he can't because it's so "far away", I felt that. Every kid I knew felt that.
It is difficult to now address those landmark films without addressing, or at least thinking about, the more recent and less landmark prequels. And that's a travesty. Yes, the first one made me want to weep alone in my room and the third one made me want to drink myself into a stupor so I wouldn't have to remember it (I still have not seen the second one, and have since decided I never, ever will) but I've come to a place where I choose to not acknowledge their existence. It's really quite simple and you can do it, too. (I've also stopped acknowledging the existence of the Bruce Springsteen song "Real Man".)
There is a specific reason the new movies were not as good as the old ones and there is a reason the phenomenon of "Star Wars" did not catch on with today's youth in the same way it caught on with those of my generation. It didn't root itself to anything but CGI and plot mechanics. The audience was given nothing with which to identify.
"Star Wars" is often talked about for its scenes of spaceships and laser guns and light sabers and groundbreaking special effects but none of that has anything to do with the single scene I remember the most fondly from any of them. It's when Luke has been arguing with his Uncle and Aunt about going to the Academy. Angered, Luke gets up from the table and marches to the door.
Aunt Beru: "Where are you going?"
Luke: "It looks like I'm going nowhere."
And then he goes outside and puts one leg up and looks off into the distance at the twin suns as the music swells oh so passionately and brilliantly and, damn it, even now - at 29 years of age - I still feel my heart crack. That's what the original movie was about! It was about the human spirit! It was about your dreams, how you yearned for them to come true and how one farm kid from Tatooine watched as they did come true. And when he marches down that aisle in that huge hall and gets that medal, well, I get the chills just thinking about it.
"Star Wars" is still to this day the most pure, most inspiring tale I've ever witnessed of the most simple of all stories - good triumphing over evil. And that's why, even though it is now 30 years old, it is still as new and vibrant as ever. That's why it will never be forgotten. That's why it's ageless.
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Heaven is a Place on Earth
So, the inevitable post is upon us. What to say? I suppose I could say The Arcade Fire is better than the Grand Canyon. And I'd be right, of course, but then we'd have to get into how I haven't seen the Grand Canyon and so on and forth and so, no, I won't say that. Instead, rather than lashing out with one of my usual Eurasia-sized essays I'm going to reprint for you the foremost thoughts that sashayed through my head as I witnessed, for the third time, the life-affirming spectacle that is an Arcade Fire show.
1. They need to play all their songs twice. I'm serious about this. One time around is simply not enough comprehend what's going on. By the time I've stopped freaking out that they're playing, say, "Keep the Car Running" (which has allowed me to maintain my sanity better than anything else for the last 2 months of my life) it's already over. Play it - let us come to grips with the fact that you are actually playing it and we're here witnessing it in person and not just listening to it on our Ipods for the 714th time - and then play it again so we can REALLY get invested in it. See? That's not too much to ask.
2. Win Butler is just such a cool guy. He talked glowingly about going to the Chicago Bulls game the previous night and that makes me really happy. He writes dark, foreboding songs about death and fear and hopelessness AND he likes sports.
1. They need to play all their songs twice. I'm serious about this. One time around is simply not enough comprehend what's going on. By the time I've stopped freaking out that they're playing, say, "Keep the Car Running" (which has allowed me to maintain my sanity better than anything else for the last 2 months of my life) it's already over. Play it - let us come to grips with the fact that you are actually playing it and we're here witnessing it in person and not just listening to it on our Ipods for the 714th time - and then play it again so we can REALLY get invested in it. See? That's not too much to ask.
2. Win Butler is just such a cool guy. He talked glowingly about going to the Chicago Bulls game the previous night and that makes me really happy. He writes dark, foreboding songs about death and fear and hopelessness AND he likes sports.
3. "Antichrist Television Blues" is insanely amazing in concert.
3a.) The above is due in no small part to the fact Regine Chassagne bounds about every single part of the stage during the song while singing along whether or not she's anywhere near a microphone and bapping a tambourine.
4. During "Laika" Will Butler and Richard Parry used two drumsticks each to hit one cymbal over and over in some weird sort of choreographed fasion. I mean, they have every imaginable instrument up on that stage. They've got accordions, and french horns, and mandolins, and pipe organs, and glockenspiels, and hurdy-gurdys, but for one song two guys armed with a total of four drumsticks did nothing but bash a single cymbal. How cool is that?
4a.) During "Power Out" Will Butler ambled about the stage ripping up pieces of paper (I don't know what this paper was or where it came from ) and hurling them into the air.
5. The 40-something woman standing in front of me (with her husband) rocked out - and I mean rocked out - to "In the Backseat". I pray, deeply and dearly, that my wife rocks out to The Arcade Fire when she's in her 40's. In fact, if I ever take out a personal ad for dating that should be the whole logline: Must be willing to rock out to Arcade Fire when in your 40's. All others need not apply.
6. In my world it's like this, Bruce Springsteen is "Last of the Mohicans" and The Arcade Fire is "Million Dollar Baby".
7. Anticipation is perhaps our greatest drug. I decided this as I put back a couple pre-show pints of Honkers Ale while fighting off that feeling in my stomach that ordinarily only comes on prior to my asking out of a woman. Seeing The Arcade Fire live is only better than knowing I'm ABOUT to see The Arcade Fire live.
8. I apologize to Kylie Minogue (I'm sure she'll be heartbroken) but she is no longer my crush. No, I have a new musical mistress and her name is Sarah Neufeld. The last time I saw them live I was on the opposite side of where she stood but Friday night I was on her side of the stage and was allowed to invest in the band's primary violinist going to town on her instrument while dancing and shimmying the whole show. She never stops grooving. Never.
9. After every song there was applause and there was second applause. Meaning that the applause seemed to intensify each and every time in the middle of itself. It was as if we were all applauding the song and then we were applauding the band for playing the song. I'd never experienced anything like that.
10. Regardless of anyone else's opinion, no matter how clear-headed and reasonable it may be, it's really quite simple. The Arcade Fire is the greatest band in the whole entire world. And that's that.
11. When the fuck can I seem them again???
Friday, May 18, 2007
Soon All Will Be Right With The World
T-Minus 11 hours.
If you hear about a 29 year old Chicago male being taken to the hospital this evening due to a case of severe euphoria, rest assured, it was me.
If you hear about a 29 year old Chicago male being taken to the hospital this evening due to a case of severe euphoria, rest assured, it was me.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
And The Countdown Goes On
T-Minus 33 hours.
I thought that today, as my anticipation continues to heighten, it would be an excellent idea to maintain the musical theme of the week and revisit my Top 5 Favorite Musician Movie Appearances. And, as always, feel free to list those I missed.
1. Bruce Springsteen, "High Fidelity". Do I ever consult a vision of Mr. Springsteen in my head regarding the pertinent problems of my life, a la John Cusack's character in said film? Well, I'm not saying that I do. But I'm certainly not saying that I don't.
2. Kylie Minogue, "Moulin Rouge". This one goes without saying.
3. Willie Nelson, "Wag the Dog". Willie portrays a songwriter enlisted to compose an anthem for the fake war. He finishes his anthem only to find out that anthem is no good and he'll have to create another one. His reply to this development? "I was just on my way to get drunk." Classic.
4. Jonathan Richman, "There's Something About Mary". Perhaps the most brilliant and least-mentioned part of this hilarious movie is folk-rock troubadour Richman functioning as a modern-day greek chorus, turning up every now and then to comment on the action with his guitar and marvelously inane lyrics ("they've tried to set him up with Tiffany and Indigo - but there's something about Mary that they don't know"). If only there were more greek choruses.
5. Billy Idol, "The Wedding Singer". I like to think that if I was on a plane flight in pursuit of my true love that Billy Idol would be willing to assist in my quest, too.
I thought that today, as my anticipation continues to heighten, it would be an excellent idea to maintain the musical theme of the week and revisit my Top 5 Favorite Musician Movie Appearances. And, as always, feel free to list those I missed.
1. Bruce Springsteen, "High Fidelity". Do I ever consult a vision of Mr. Springsteen in my head regarding the pertinent problems of my life, a la John Cusack's character in said film? Well, I'm not saying that I do. But I'm certainly not saying that I don't.
2. Kylie Minogue, "Moulin Rouge". This one goes without saying.
3. Willie Nelson, "Wag the Dog". Willie portrays a songwriter enlisted to compose an anthem for the fake war. He finishes his anthem only to find out that anthem is no good and he'll have to create another one. His reply to this development? "I was just on my way to get drunk." Classic.
4. Jonathan Richman, "There's Something About Mary". Perhaps the most brilliant and least-mentioned part of this hilarious movie is folk-rock troubadour Richman functioning as a modern-day greek chorus, turning up every now and then to comment on the action with his guitar and marvelously inane lyrics ("they've tried to set him up with Tiffany and Indigo - but there's something about Mary that they don't know"). If only there were more greek choruses.
5. Billy Idol, "The Wedding Singer". I like to think that if I was on a plane flight in pursuit of my true love that Billy Idol would be willing to assist in my quest, too.
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
The Countdown Continues
59 hours and counting.................here, by the way, is a wonderous article you should read at your leisure.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Let the Countdown Begin!
Isn't life far more grand when you have something to look forward to? I mean, something to really look forward to? And I, ladies and gentlemen, have something to really look forward to. This coming event is up there on my All Time Something To Look Forward To List. I'm anticipating this like opening day of "Kill Bill Volume 1" in 2003, or the release day of Springsteen's album "The Rising" in 2002, or the Nebraska/Oklahoma game in 2001. It's big.
On Friday night I am seeing The Arcade Fire live.
The last time I saw them live (September 28, 2005) I wrote the very next morning - in my usual low-key way - that The Arcade Fire was "better than the Aurora Borealis". My friend Ashley pointed out that I'd never actually seen the Aurora Borealis but, really, do I need to see the Aurora Borealis with my own eyes to know it cannot compare to The Arcade Fire? I mean, have you heard the moment in "Haiti" when the whole song breaks down and then busts back in? That's not just better than the Aurora Borealis. It's better than the Brooklyn Bridge, too.
83 hours and counting..............
On Friday night I am seeing The Arcade Fire live.
The last time I saw them live (September 28, 2005) I wrote the very next morning - in my usual low-key way - that The Arcade Fire was "better than the Aurora Borealis". My friend Ashley pointed out that I'd never actually seen the Aurora Borealis but, really, do I need to see the Aurora Borealis with my own eyes to know it cannot compare to The Arcade Fire? I mean, have you heard the moment in "Haiti" when the whole song breaks down and then busts back in? That's not just better than the Aurora Borealis. It's better than the Brooklyn Bridge, too.
83 hours and counting..............
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Waitress
I must admit that I prefer sad endings in movies to happy ones. I've always been like that. I remember watching a movie with my mom (I don't remember what movie) when I was young and it had a happy ending and I asked my mom why so many movies had to end happy. And she told me that it was because real life so rarely had happy endings and therefore we had to put them in movies.
I didn't buy it then and I don't buy it now. The reason being that we seem so desperate to have these happy endings in movies since we don't get them in real life that they more often than not feel false, forced, contrived, or solely at the request of studio big-wigs who couldn't write a screenplay if they had a magic lamp, a genie and 3 wishes. But if the happy ending doesn't feel forced? If it rings true? If the character earns his or happy ending? Well..........
Let me say this. "Waitress" is the first time in a long, long time I can recall so openly and passionately rooting for the main character to have a happy ending. I truly wanted things to work out for her. And let me also say this. "Waitress" is tremendous, tremendous film. It's so refreshing to see something with such warmth and affection for its characters.
Keri Russell is Jenna, the character of the movie's title. (Russell, by the way, is absolutely fantastic. Totally believable.) She works at a pie shop and she is, basically, a pie genius. No one makes pies like Jenna - either in the kind of pie or its quality. She takes solace in making pies. It's where she goes to escape.
There's one scene in particular - maybe not more than 12 seconds - where we see her making a pie. That's it. Nothing else. But you can see exactly where she is. Namely, her happy place. And as I saw that scene, I saw myself.
See, the rest of her life isn't all that great. She's married to an abusive, cluless lug (Jeremy Sisto). She's trying to hide money from her jerk of a spouse so she can get away, or maybe enter this pie contest she's read about it. She's just learned she's pregnant and, quite frankly, she isn't that excited about it. She doesn't want congratulations from anyone about it. She doesn't think she'd make a good mother. She doesn't necessarily want to be a mother at all.
And this is where we see how true the character of Jenna rings. She's a good person, yes, but she's not that good of a person. Or, in other words, she's like me and you. She thinks about giving away the baby when it's born. She has an affair with her doctor (Nathan Fillion, who plays it as kind of a variation of Woody Allen - very neurotic but not kvetching) who is also married, and happily married from what we can tell. She hasn't figured out life. She's still waiting for a moment of clarity. Hell, maybe she's even stopped waiting for that moment. Listen, for instance, to way she emptily repeats the many things her husband demands she repeat to him. It's almost zombie-like.
It's also worth noting the only person in the whole film who seems to have any grasp of what life is or what it means - the pie shop's owner (Andy Griffith) - is also the one who's the closest to death's door.
Jenna has the obligatory co-workers (Cheryl Hines and Adrienne Shelley, who also wrote and directed the film) who function as comic relief. But they are much the same as Jenna. Life has broken them, beaten them down. Note how even the major decisions they make are really much more like compromises.
There will be whining viewers who will inevitably wonder why Jenna stays with her husband. Or why she doesn't make more of an effort to live her life. But watching the movie made me think of a quote from my man Bruce Springsteen from the late 70's. It seemed to perfectly capture the characters Adrienne Shelley wrote, and the story she told.
"It's a real simple story. You grow up and they bury you. They keep throwing dirt on you, throwing dirt on and throwing dirt on......some people get dug in so deep that there's a point when it stops getting shoveled on them and they roll over and start digging down. You get down so deep you don't know which way's up. You don't know if you're digging sideways, up, down, until something comes along, if you're lucky, and shakes you until all of a sudden you have a certain sense of direction. A lot of people don't ever get that."
Jenna does get that. She gets dug in, but she gets out. And she earns her way out. She earns her victory. And "Waitress" itself - in this season of blockbusters, special effects and hollowness - is one hell of a victory, too.
(Note: If you did not already know, aforementioned writer/director Adrienne Shelley was horrifically and tragically murdered after the completion of this movie and about a month before its premiere at Sundance. Such a thing is just more needless proof of how unfair life can often be. But if there could ever be a perfect eulogy for a filmmaker, this is it.)
I didn't buy it then and I don't buy it now. The reason being that we seem so desperate to have these happy endings in movies since we don't get them in real life that they more often than not feel false, forced, contrived, or solely at the request of studio big-wigs who couldn't write a screenplay if they had a magic lamp, a genie and 3 wishes. But if the happy ending doesn't feel forced? If it rings true? If the character earns his or happy ending? Well..........
Let me say this. "Waitress" is the first time in a long, long time I can recall so openly and passionately rooting for the main character to have a happy ending. I truly wanted things to work out for her. And let me also say this. "Waitress" is tremendous, tremendous film. It's so refreshing to see something with such warmth and affection for its characters.
Keri Russell is Jenna, the character of the movie's title. (Russell, by the way, is absolutely fantastic. Totally believable.) She works at a pie shop and she is, basically, a pie genius. No one makes pies like Jenna - either in the kind of pie or its quality. She takes solace in making pies. It's where she goes to escape.
There's one scene in particular - maybe not more than 12 seconds - where we see her making a pie. That's it. Nothing else. But you can see exactly where she is. Namely, her happy place. And as I saw that scene, I saw myself.
See, the rest of her life isn't all that great. She's married to an abusive, cluless lug (Jeremy Sisto). She's trying to hide money from her jerk of a spouse so she can get away, or maybe enter this pie contest she's read about it. She's just learned she's pregnant and, quite frankly, she isn't that excited about it. She doesn't want congratulations from anyone about it. She doesn't think she'd make a good mother. She doesn't necessarily want to be a mother at all.
And this is where we see how true the character of Jenna rings. She's a good person, yes, but she's not that good of a person. Or, in other words, she's like me and you. She thinks about giving away the baby when it's born. She has an affair with her doctor (Nathan Fillion, who plays it as kind of a variation of Woody Allen - very neurotic but not kvetching) who is also married, and happily married from what we can tell. She hasn't figured out life. She's still waiting for a moment of clarity. Hell, maybe she's even stopped waiting for that moment. Listen, for instance, to way she emptily repeats the many things her husband demands she repeat to him. It's almost zombie-like.
It's also worth noting the only person in the whole film who seems to have any grasp of what life is or what it means - the pie shop's owner (Andy Griffith) - is also the one who's the closest to death's door.
Jenna has the obligatory co-workers (Cheryl Hines and Adrienne Shelley, who also wrote and directed the film) who function as comic relief. But they are much the same as Jenna. Life has broken them, beaten them down. Note how even the major decisions they make are really much more like compromises.
There will be whining viewers who will inevitably wonder why Jenna stays with her husband. Or why she doesn't make more of an effort to live her life. But watching the movie made me think of a quote from my man Bruce Springsteen from the late 70's. It seemed to perfectly capture the characters Adrienne Shelley wrote, and the story she told.
"It's a real simple story. You grow up and they bury you. They keep throwing dirt on you, throwing dirt on and throwing dirt on......some people get dug in so deep that there's a point when it stops getting shoveled on them and they roll over and start digging down. You get down so deep you don't know which way's up. You don't know if you're digging sideways, up, down, until something comes along, if you're lucky, and shakes you until all of a sudden you have a certain sense of direction. A lot of people don't ever get that."
Jenna does get that. She gets dug in, but she gets out. And she earns her way out. She earns her victory. And "Waitress" itself - in this season of blockbusters, special effects and hollowness - is one hell of a victory, too.
(Note: If you did not already know, aforementioned writer/director Adrienne Shelley was horrifically and tragically murdered after the completion of this movie and about a month before its premiere at Sundance. Such a thing is just more needless proof of how unfair life can often be. But if there could ever be a perfect eulogy for a filmmaker, this is it.)
Thursday, May 10, 2007
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
Guilty Pleasure For One Right Reason
The 1996 blockbuster "Twister" is not a good movie. It's driven not by story but by special effects. The screenplay doesn't even feel like a rough draft. It feels like the director and producers wrote a few notes down on a cocktail napkin ("lots of tornadoes", "bickering ex-lovers/storm chasers", "flying cow", "possibly include evil weathermen") and took it to a studio who bit on the shady concept when visions of dollar signs began dancing in their heads.
There's that one scene which could be the worst summer movie scene ever filmed, outside of Michael Bay's work (no one can compete with the awfulness of the esteemed Mr. Bay). Bill Paxton and Helen Hunt are our storm chasers on the verge of a divorce (though Bill Paxton is now a local weatherman and out of the storm chasing game) who have invented some type of weather contraption called "Dorothy" which you put in the path of a tornado, or something, and then it provides information regarding the tornado that no one else has ever been able to get.......or something. I don't know. But what it does isn't the point. What is the point is that the evil weathermen (whose evilness is given away by the fact they all drive black vans) have ripped off the "Dorothy" design and made their own. And the evil weathermen are in the parking lot of some restaurant giving an interview to the local news station about their "Dorothy" and Bill Paxton sees this and confronts them and yells something to the effect of, "You stole Dorothy, you son of a bitch!"
But then the head evil weatherman (Cary Elwes) stares down Bill Paxton and delivers the immortal line, "I really enjoy your weather reports." Apparently, this is smack talk in the world of tornado chasers because Bill Paxton flips out and has to be restrained.
Then Bill Paxton steps out of the fray and stands off to the side and looks up at the ominous sky and runs some dirt through his fingers and instantly deciphers when and where the next tornado will strike.
I would have been proud to write this scene, though my pride would differ from the type of pride possessed by the actual writers of this scene.
Yeah, so the movie's terrible. But that's not what I'd like to discuss today. I'd like to discuss why I love the movie so much.
There was a time I was a resident of Phoenix, Arizona. I didn't like it. There comes a point in May when the thermometer raises to 108 degrees and stays there - morning, noon and night - for the next 3 months. Seriously. It doesn't change. And the sun never stops shining. Never. Every morning you wake and pray for rain, but your prayers are never answered. (Supposedly, the one summer I lived there was one of the rainiest in Phoenix's recent history but I think it only rained, like, 3 times.)
Being from the midwest, an Arizona summer is not fun. I mean, it's hot in the midwest, too, but there's always the possibility of severe weather. And a summer night of severe weather in the midwest is glorious. Dark, ominous thunderheads rolling in. Local weathermen going into "the President has been shot" mode. The rumble of thunder in the distance. The stillness when you know the bad weather is near. The elegant wail of tornado sirens. All the neighborhood men defiantly going outside and looking to the sky as the sirens wail (this is how you act macho in the midwest). I crave summer days and nights of severe weather like I crave college football season (114 days and counting). And in the valley of the sun you just don't get them.
At some point during my Phoenix summer, my roommate Jed and I happened upon "Twister" on television. We did not change the channel. We were entranced. I can still feel my smile. I've never, ever been so homesick. I wanted to stand beneath a threatening midwest sky and run dirt through my fingers and comment "something's brewin'".
I'm almost certain "Twister" director Jan de Bont did not intend for this effect. I'm sure making those computer generated tornadoes real-looking was #1 on his list and suitable "summer in the midwest feel" was down near the bottom but that's all right. Ed Wood was trying to make a masterpiece with "Plan 9 From Outer Space" and ended up making, well, something slightly south of a masterpiece.
De Bont had to film outdoors in the midwest (in fact, I know portions of it were filmed in my home state of Iowa) and so despite adding in so many of those computerized twisters he still managed to capture the majesty of being under a tornado watch in the great midwest. This feeling has nothing to do with the characters, or the weak-as-my-office-coffee plot. It's all on the edge. Observe the corner of the frames carefully. The menacing clouds, the cornfields with nowhere to hide from the impending storm, the little towns through which they traverse.
I've left Iowa for Chicago and I like Chicago a whole bunch more than Phoenix because it retains a significant midwestern vibe. But you just can't have a proper tornado watch in Chicago. Gathering storms lose resonance if they are not gathering over cornfields. Weathermen here don't know how to properly hype bad weather.
That's why I love "Twister" despite the flying cows and evil meterologists skulking about in black vans. "Twister" itself knows what it feels like to be in the midwest this time of year even if its creators don't.
There's that one scene which could be the worst summer movie scene ever filmed, outside of Michael Bay's work (no one can compete with the awfulness of the esteemed Mr. Bay). Bill Paxton and Helen Hunt are our storm chasers on the verge of a divorce (though Bill Paxton is now a local weatherman and out of the storm chasing game) who have invented some type of weather contraption called "Dorothy" which you put in the path of a tornado, or something, and then it provides information regarding the tornado that no one else has ever been able to get.......or something. I don't know. But what it does isn't the point. What is the point is that the evil weathermen (whose evilness is given away by the fact they all drive black vans) have ripped off the "Dorothy" design and made their own. And the evil weathermen are in the parking lot of some restaurant giving an interview to the local news station about their "Dorothy" and Bill Paxton sees this and confronts them and yells something to the effect of, "You stole Dorothy, you son of a bitch!"
But then the head evil weatherman (Cary Elwes) stares down Bill Paxton and delivers the immortal line, "I really enjoy your weather reports." Apparently, this is smack talk in the world of tornado chasers because Bill Paxton flips out and has to be restrained.
Then Bill Paxton steps out of the fray and stands off to the side and looks up at the ominous sky and runs some dirt through his fingers and instantly deciphers when and where the next tornado will strike.
I would have been proud to write this scene, though my pride would differ from the type of pride possessed by the actual writers of this scene.
Yeah, so the movie's terrible. But that's not what I'd like to discuss today. I'd like to discuss why I love the movie so much.
There was a time I was a resident of Phoenix, Arizona. I didn't like it. There comes a point in May when the thermometer raises to 108 degrees and stays there - morning, noon and night - for the next 3 months. Seriously. It doesn't change. And the sun never stops shining. Never. Every morning you wake and pray for rain, but your prayers are never answered. (Supposedly, the one summer I lived there was one of the rainiest in Phoenix's recent history but I think it only rained, like, 3 times.)
Being from the midwest, an Arizona summer is not fun. I mean, it's hot in the midwest, too, but there's always the possibility of severe weather. And a summer night of severe weather in the midwest is glorious. Dark, ominous thunderheads rolling in. Local weathermen going into "the President has been shot" mode. The rumble of thunder in the distance. The stillness when you know the bad weather is near. The elegant wail of tornado sirens. All the neighborhood men defiantly going outside and looking to the sky as the sirens wail (this is how you act macho in the midwest). I crave summer days and nights of severe weather like I crave college football season (114 days and counting). And in the valley of the sun you just don't get them.
At some point during my Phoenix summer, my roommate Jed and I happened upon "Twister" on television. We did not change the channel. We were entranced. I can still feel my smile. I've never, ever been so homesick. I wanted to stand beneath a threatening midwest sky and run dirt through my fingers and comment "something's brewin'".
I'm almost certain "Twister" director Jan de Bont did not intend for this effect. I'm sure making those computer generated tornadoes real-looking was #1 on his list and suitable "summer in the midwest feel" was down near the bottom but that's all right. Ed Wood was trying to make a masterpiece with "Plan 9 From Outer Space" and ended up making, well, something slightly south of a masterpiece.
De Bont had to film outdoors in the midwest (in fact, I know portions of it were filmed in my home state of Iowa) and so despite adding in so many of those computerized twisters he still managed to capture the majesty of being under a tornado watch in the great midwest. This feeling has nothing to do with the characters, or the weak-as-my-office-coffee plot. It's all on the edge. Observe the corner of the frames carefully. The menacing clouds, the cornfields with nowhere to hide from the impending storm, the little towns through which they traverse.
I've left Iowa for Chicago and I like Chicago a whole bunch more than Phoenix because it retains a significant midwestern vibe. But you just can't have a proper tornado watch in Chicago. Gathering storms lose resonance if they are not gathering over cornfields. Weathermen here don't know how to properly hype bad weather.
That's why I love "Twister" despite the flying cows and evil meterologists skulking about in black vans. "Twister" itself knows what it feels like to be in the midwest this time of year even if its creators don't.
Monday, May 07, 2007
Spiderman 3
I greatly enjoyed the first two films of the "Spiderman" franchise. In fact, I would go so far as to say the first "Spiderman" is my second favorite superhero movie, right behind the superb "Batman Begins". I liked them because they felt to me like a comic book, or a cartoon, brought to life on the big screen. The action scenes were exciting but clearly not real. There were actual characters, and they changed, but with more of a storybook-feel than something deep and profound.
I felt the third installment was the same way, sort of. There are quite a few more problems this time around than in director Sam Raimi's first two outings. But we'll get to those.
There's a lot going on here. Peter Parker (Tobey Maguire) seems to have everything going his way. He's doing well in school, he's about to propose to Mary Jane (Kirsten Dunst) and, oh yeah, his certain alter ego has become a sort of folk hero in New York City. But what's that saying? Ah, yes. Into every life a little rain must fall. And then this strange, black alien "goo" shows up and it causes Spiderman to wear a black suit that makes him a sort of evil version of Spiderman.
What is this "goo"? Where does it come from? Who the hell knows.
Mary Jane has some rain fall into her life as well. She's just opened a play on Broadway but it turns out that perhaps she can't sing quite as well as she hoped and meanwhile her potential fiance seems more interested in his infamous alter ego and in this other little vixen from his science class named Gwen (Bryce Dallas Howard).
Not to mention the fact Harry Osborn (James Franco) is still seeking vengeance for his dad dying (so Harry thinks) at the hands of Spiderman in the initial movie.
Not to also mention the fact Flint Marko (Thomas Haden Church) has busted out of prison and is trying to score some money for his sick little daughter only to wind up falling into some sort of contraption that's barely explained which, of course, turns him into The Sandman.
Not to also mention the fact Eddie Brock (Topher Grace) is trying to outdo Peter Parker in the getting-good-photos-of-Spiderman department at the Daily Bugle only to wind up transforming to yet another villain named Venom via that crawling black "stuff" I mentioned.
Whew..........
Okay, so there you go. There's your synopsis. Sort of. There's some other stuff (like the Russian girl from across the hallway - remember her? - turning up to bake cookies) but I'm tired of re-printing plot already.
The whole enterprise falls victim to the old Every Sequel's Gotta' Have More problem. There's far too many characters. I liked this Flint Marko fellow. There seemed to be a lot of something bubbling under the surface with him but it's never explored. They give him a set-up without any real payoff. Like I said, his daughter's sick (and that's not giving anything away that hasn't already been given away in previews and every single magazine article about the film) and so he's trying to help her but this angle seems to be abandoned as soon as its mentioned. They needed to make Marko more desperate.
And as for Topher Grace as Eddie Brock as Venom? Well........look, I like Topher Grace. I think he's made really good choices in his roles. I think he really desires to be a serious actor. And I really, really respect that. But the guy's just not evil. Not at all. Topher Grace trying to be a movie villain is like me trying to be a movie villain. Would any of you buy me as a movie villain? Would I scare you? Didn't think so. Quite frankly, I thought the entire Eddie Brock/Venom deal should have been scrapped to devote more time to Flint Marko/Sandman.
I also must mention that there comes a point midway through where the movie suddenly veers off into an odd, almost 70's-movie direction. I don't want to give this plot deviation away because it's so out of left field that to say anything would be to ruin it but it's something of the you'll know it the precise moment you see it variety. I get the feeling a lot of movie-goers ain't gonna' like it. It was met with a lot of puzzled laughter at the screening I attended and the gentleman sitting behind me made the comment, "What the f---?"
Again, I'll be honest. I enjoyed this plot deviation. It was my favorite part of the whole two-and-a-half hours. Then again, I'm not your typical movie-goer and so I could very well be the only one. But so be it. I liked it because it was not exactly what I expected.
I liked the action scenes, particularly the first and last ones. They thrilled me. I loved the scene with the Daily Bugle Editor (J.K. Simmons) and his secretary reminding him to take his pills. And I liked that it felt as if Sam Raimi was really trying to make a good movie - with good characters - without his eyes fixated solely on the "numbers". But there's just too much. Too, too, too much.
I liked the ending, too. I did. And I truly hope it's the last ending I see in a "Spiderman" movie. If there's another one, I get the feeling I won't like it as much.
I felt the third installment was the same way, sort of. There are quite a few more problems this time around than in director Sam Raimi's first two outings. But we'll get to those.
There's a lot going on here. Peter Parker (Tobey Maguire) seems to have everything going his way. He's doing well in school, he's about to propose to Mary Jane (Kirsten Dunst) and, oh yeah, his certain alter ego has become a sort of folk hero in New York City. But what's that saying? Ah, yes. Into every life a little rain must fall. And then this strange, black alien "goo" shows up and it causes Spiderman to wear a black suit that makes him a sort of evil version of Spiderman.
What is this "goo"? Where does it come from? Who the hell knows.
Mary Jane has some rain fall into her life as well. She's just opened a play on Broadway but it turns out that perhaps she can't sing quite as well as she hoped and meanwhile her potential fiance seems more interested in his infamous alter ego and in this other little vixen from his science class named Gwen (Bryce Dallas Howard).
Not to mention the fact Harry Osborn (James Franco) is still seeking vengeance for his dad dying (so Harry thinks) at the hands of Spiderman in the initial movie.
Not to also mention the fact Flint Marko (Thomas Haden Church) has busted out of prison and is trying to score some money for his sick little daughter only to wind up falling into some sort of contraption that's barely explained which, of course, turns him into The Sandman.
Not to also mention the fact Eddie Brock (Topher Grace) is trying to outdo Peter Parker in the getting-good-photos-of-Spiderman department at the Daily Bugle only to wind up transforming to yet another villain named Venom via that crawling black "stuff" I mentioned.
Whew..........
Okay, so there you go. There's your synopsis. Sort of. There's some other stuff (like the Russian girl from across the hallway - remember her? - turning up to bake cookies) but I'm tired of re-printing plot already.
The whole enterprise falls victim to the old Every Sequel's Gotta' Have More problem. There's far too many characters. I liked this Flint Marko fellow. There seemed to be a lot of something bubbling under the surface with him but it's never explored. They give him a set-up without any real payoff. Like I said, his daughter's sick (and that's not giving anything away that hasn't already been given away in previews and every single magazine article about the film) and so he's trying to help her but this angle seems to be abandoned as soon as its mentioned. They needed to make Marko more desperate.
And as for Topher Grace as Eddie Brock as Venom? Well........look, I like Topher Grace. I think he's made really good choices in his roles. I think he really desires to be a serious actor. And I really, really respect that. But the guy's just not evil. Not at all. Topher Grace trying to be a movie villain is like me trying to be a movie villain. Would any of you buy me as a movie villain? Would I scare you? Didn't think so. Quite frankly, I thought the entire Eddie Brock/Venom deal should have been scrapped to devote more time to Flint Marko/Sandman.
I also must mention that there comes a point midway through where the movie suddenly veers off into an odd, almost 70's-movie direction. I don't want to give this plot deviation away because it's so out of left field that to say anything would be to ruin it but it's something of the you'll know it the precise moment you see it variety. I get the feeling a lot of movie-goers ain't gonna' like it. It was met with a lot of puzzled laughter at the screening I attended and the gentleman sitting behind me made the comment, "What the f---?"
Again, I'll be honest. I enjoyed this plot deviation. It was my favorite part of the whole two-and-a-half hours. Then again, I'm not your typical movie-goer and so I could very well be the only one. But so be it. I liked it because it was not exactly what I expected.
I liked the action scenes, particularly the first and last ones. They thrilled me. I loved the scene with the Daily Bugle Editor (J.K. Simmons) and his secretary reminding him to take his pills. And I liked that it felt as if Sam Raimi was really trying to make a good movie - with good characters - without his eyes fixated solely on the "numbers". But there's just too much. Too, too, too much.
I liked the ending, too. I did. And I truly hope it's the last ending I see in a "Spiderman" movie. If there's another one, I get the feeling I won't like it as much.
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
Summer's Coming
Ah yes, my least favorite season is almost upon us. I can feel it coming. By "it", of course, I mean heat, heat, more heat, and movies for which things like "box office returns" and "opening weekend" are more important than things like "writing" and "acting" and "coherent storyline". Speaking both cinematically and weather-wise I wish it were the dead of winter but it's not and so instead we'll look ahead to the most anticipated movies of the coming summer.
Spiderman 3 – If I’d told you 10 years ago that a Spiderman movie in the future would feature actors from “Wings” and “That ‘70’s Show” as its villains, what would you have said?
Pirates of the Caribbean 3 – A lot of people are probably wary about this one after the smorgasbord of disaster that was the second one. I am not among them. This is because Johnny Depp will still be playing Captain Jack Sparrow and that’s like sending Derek Jeter up to the plate with a runner on 2nd in the bottom of the 9th. Even if he’s gone hitless in his last 10 games you know he’s still got the goods to get the job done.
Ocean’s 13 – Essentially, there’s only one actor who could even dream of upstaging the imposing trio of George Clooney, Brad Pitt & Julia Roberts. His name is Al Pacino. He’s in this movie. If I was the director of this one there would be a scene in which all four of them sit together in a room and literally read the phonebook. Then we’d see who was King of the Mountain.
The Bourne Ultimatum - Actually, I really want to see this one. If it's as good as the last one, I'll be ecstatic.
Live Free or Die Hard – Yes, that’s right. It’s yet another installment of Bruce Willis as everyone’s favorite in-the-wrong-place-at-the-wrong-time cop John McClane. After this one, I think the next sequel would have no choice but to give John McClane a brother. Jack McClane, perhaps? The question – what actor would play him? I say Kevin James (of "King of Queens"). It could be an uproarious comedy! Kevin James could make wisecracks and then Bruce Willis could give him snide looks. What's more humorous than a snide look from Bruce Willis?
Transformers - I am proud to say that I am perhaps the only male in America who has utterly no desire to see this movie. In fact, not only do I not plan on seeing it, I hope any movie I do see around the Fourth of July weekend isn't even in a theater next to a theater showing "Transformers".
Spiderman 3 – If I’d told you 10 years ago that a Spiderman movie in the future would feature actors from “Wings” and “That ‘70’s Show” as its villains, what would you have said?
Pirates of the Caribbean 3 – A lot of people are probably wary about this one after the smorgasbord of disaster that was the second one. I am not among them. This is because Johnny Depp will still be playing Captain Jack Sparrow and that’s like sending Derek Jeter up to the plate with a runner on 2nd in the bottom of the 9th. Even if he’s gone hitless in his last 10 games you know he’s still got the goods to get the job done.
Ocean’s 13 – Essentially, there’s only one actor who could even dream of upstaging the imposing trio of George Clooney, Brad Pitt & Julia Roberts. His name is Al Pacino. He’s in this movie. If I was the director of this one there would be a scene in which all four of them sit together in a room and literally read the phonebook. Then we’d see who was King of the Mountain.
The Bourne Ultimatum - Actually, I really want to see this one. If it's as good as the last one, I'll be ecstatic.
Live Free or Die Hard – Yes, that’s right. It’s yet another installment of Bruce Willis as everyone’s favorite in-the-wrong-place-at-the-wrong-time cop John McClane. After this one, I think the next sequel would have no choice but to give John McClane a brother. Jack McClane, perhaps? The question – what actor would play him? I say Kevin James (of "King of Queens"). It could be an uproarious comedy! Kevin James could make wisecracks and then Bruce Willis could give him snide looks. What's more humorous than a snide look from Bruce Willis?
Transformers - I am proud to say that I am perhaps the only male in America who has utterly no desire to see this movie. In fact, not only do I not plan on seeing it, I hope any movie I do see around the Fourth of July weekend isn't even in a theater next to a theater showing "Transformers".
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