It was silly of me to sit out Wes Anderson's Fantastic Mr. Fox when it came out. I don't remember why I wasn't terribly interested in the movie. It has three things I enjoy very much: 1) Roald Dahl, 2) George Clooney, and 3) Stop Motion Animation. As I also enjoy (to varying degrees) the films of Wes Anderson to this point, there was really no reason not to see it, but somehow I chose not to.
The good news is that I rectified this last night, and I'm happy to say that this year's Best Animated Film category was truly well contested (admittedly, I have yet to see The Secret of Kells, but I'll get there soon enough). I don't mean to beat up on Coraline* - which I feel like I do every single time I mention the film - but as stop motion goes, I really did enjoy Fantastic Mr. Fox more in just about every respect. There's something about watching the hairs move around on Mr. Fox and every other animal that reminds you just how much work went into the film.
Mr. Fox (George Clooney) and Mrs. Fox (Meryl Streep) are chicken thieves, until one night when, in a trap, she reveals that she's pregnant. Mr. Fox promises to give up stealing and live a crime-free life as a newspaper columnist. 12 fox years later (there is a fox to human time conversion handled in title cards) Mr. and Mrs. Fox are living a life of quiet domesticity with their angsty son Ash (Jason Schwartzman) and visiting Nephew Kristofferson Silverfox (Eric Anderson). Mr. Fox has aspirations, and moves his family from a hole in the ground to a new tree he can't really afford, in part because of its proximity to the farms of Boggis (Robin Hurlstone), Bunce (Hugo Guinness), and Bean (Michael Gambon), three rather unpleasant farmers who specialize in chicken, geese, and cider respectively.
With his new partner in crime, Kylie (Wallace Wolodarsky) - and against the wishes of his attorney, Badger (Bill Murray) - Mr. Fox resumes his life of crime, tempting fate by stealing from the meanest farmers around. All goes smoothly at first, but when the vindictive Bean declares war on Fox, all of the animals nearby are forced underground and face starvation and attacks from Rat (Willem Dafoe). Unless, of course, the newly tail-less Mr. Fox (Bean shoots it off) can come up with a scheme to win the day...
I'm going to focus on two things I really enjoyed about the film in order not to ramble - as the Cap'n tends to do. What's very impressive is that - despite the fact that Anderson was mostly "hands off" during the production, according to most reports - the film clearly fits into his stylistic approach. You can pause the film at almost any point and say, "Yes, this is a Wes Anderson film"; from the title cards to the production design to the use of music, but also particularly the pace of the story, Fantastic Mr. Fox occupies the same universe as Rushmore or The Royal Tenenbaums and The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou, just with stop motion animals.
That being said, the other element that I found really astonishing is how, despite the fact that it clearly could fall into "auteur" category, Fantastic Mr. Fox (it's so hard not to put a "The" at the beginning, but that's not the title!) is a film you can show to children without concern. In a world where Alvin and the Chipmunks: The Squeakquel is raking in the big bucks (I assume), it's a relief to see a movie like Fantastic Mr. Fox where the Cap'n enjoys the film from beginning to end but would not hesitate to show it to a youngster. Aside from (spoiler) the death of Rat, there's not much there to find objectionable. In fact, there's a rather clever conceit of removing profanity and simply saying the word "cuss"; it's a clear enough referent for adults what the word would be, but kids aren't going to pick up any new words you'd have to explain to their teachers later.
The pace of the film - which is only around 80 minutes without credits - still manages to feel leisurely but never dull. The cast are all having a great time and despite the fact that they come in clusters of similarly shaped animals, there's never a problem telling which character is which. Clooney, in particular, seems to be having a ball in what one could call "Fox's Eleven". Even Boggis, Bunce, and Bean have distinctive qualities that carry you through the fact that two of them barely say a thing. I was both impressed and very entertained by Fantastic Mr. Fox, and look forward to watching it again, which is kind of strange; typically, while I enjoy Wes Anderson films, I will revisit them periodically but never in any kind of hurry. I highly recommend you check Fantastic Mr. Fox out, as it's every bit as deserving of its nomination as Up and Coraline (I'll get back to you on The Secret of Kells and The Princess and the Frog).
* Allow me to reiterate that I really did enjoy Coraline, and feel in some part that my ambivalence towards the story has everything to do with me and nothing to do with the film itself. I've read Neil Gaiman's book three or four times, and because I know it backwards and forwards, the film didn't really surprise me in any way. That's totally on me and not at all a reflection of the exemplary work Henry Selick did with his adaptation.
Saturday, April 3, 2010
Friday, April 2, 2010
Blogorium Review: Shutter Island
At the outset, I'd like to pose the following question about Martin Scorsese, because I'm genuinely curious:
Which of his films qualify as "lesser works"?
I ask, in part, because many of the reviews for Shutter Island that I saw early used that very terminology as a means of "preparing" cinephiles to be disappointed in some way, but what does it really mean? We can take the obvious films (Cape Fear, The King of Comedy, and New York, New York are the usual punching bags) out of the way, and where do you go from there? Does that imply his non-gangster films are the lesser ones? The films that aren't crime dramas?
But wait, I remember people calling Casino "lesser Scorsese", and the same for The Gangs of New York. Bringing Out the Dead gets slapped with that a lot, but nobody ever seems to talk about Kundun or The Age of Innocence at all, so are they "lesser works"? Boxcar Bertha? Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore? After Hours? The Color of Money? But wait, The Color of Money revived his career and was a big hit for Paul Newman and Tom Cruise. After Hours is being taught alongside Taxi Driver as neo-noir. Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore figures prominently in almost every article about Kris Kristofferson and Ellen Burstyn, who won an Oscar for the film (Diane Ladd was also nominated). I'm a little fuzzy here.
Truthfully, there's some debate now about how "lesser" Cape Fear is, and Shutter Island is going to contribute to that discussion, because both films are exercises for Scorsese in making a particular style of film. If Cape Fear was his modernized take on the black and white thriller, then Shutter Island is Scorsese working period, this time on the technicolor cinerama films of the 1950s. Somehow it seems utterly appropriate that Criterion would release Nicholas Ray's Bigger Than Life within months of Shutter Island coming to theatres.
Ah, but I digress; Let's get to the film proper, shall we?
Federal Marshalls Teddy Daniels (Leonardo DiCaprio) and Chuck Aule (Mark Ruffalo) arrive at Shutter Island - a maximum security mental institution off the coast of Massachusetts - during the fall of 1954* to help find a patient who mysteriously disappeared from her room. When they arrive at the institution, they find very little assistance from Dr. Cawley (Ben Kingsley) or his associate Dr. Naehring (Max Von Sydow), or from much of the staff or guards. Daniels is suffering from terrible migraines and dreams of liberating Dachau, which already have him on edge, but indicators that there may be a larger conspiracy at Shutter Island send him to the edge of sanity - in exactly the last place you would want to be at that point.
Based on a novel by Dennis Lehane (Mystic River, Gone Baby Gone), Shutter Island is a throwback to B-movies of the 1950s. It could have been a Samuel Fuller film, but Scorsese opts instead to shoot it like a Douglas Sirk picture in Cinemascope: full of rich colors framed in the widest possible sense. Shutter Island is a film about the internal world rendered in epic proportions, particularly anything having to do with the cliffs that surround the island or the lighthouse that's so important to Daniels. Even on the ferry ride to Shutter Island at the beginning, the vivid oranges and purples of the sky seem to extend in every direction around Daniels and Auhe, swallowing them up. The juxtaposition of story and visual style, appropriately, tends to overwhelm the viewer.
But it is the story that's important. The mystery of what happened to Rachel Solando, the "missing" patient who may have never existed in the first place, is really just an opportunity for Daniels to get to the island. There's a chance that Andrew Laeddis (Elias Koteas), a pyromaniac responsible for Teddy's wife Delores (Michelle Williams) is in Ward C (a Civil War bunker remade as the "worst of the worst" ward), and Daniels want to confront him. The more Daniels searches, the more possible it becomes that a vast conspiracy involving neurological tests and brainwashing is happening to the patients, and even in his fragile mental state, Daniels pushes forward to follow the clues.
I think people are beating up on Shutter Island because of the "twist", which is not so much a twist as a slow reveal. There are plenty of clues from the first frame that all is not right for Agent Daniels, from the heightened colors of the sky to the way his coat looks just a little too big. Little things don't add up in the film as Daniels and Chuck investigate the missing patient, both for them, but also for the audience. Props disappear and re-appear, statements and behavior on the part of staff and prisoners is inconsistent, and Daniels' dreams point to something we can't quite pinpoint in his back story that seems very important.
Of course, if you're really paying attention, the scene with George Noyce (Jackie Earle Haley) spells it all out. It's right there in the middle of the movie - exactly what Dr. Cawley says at the end. Scorsese is just clever enough to make you doubt that's what you heard. Shutter Island is, in fact, very good at hiding the truth in plain sight; the film gives you all of the pieces to the puzzle - save for one pretty important part - but is designed in such a way that you doubt their reliability along with everything else Teddy discovers.
Then again, the "twist" itself isn't really what makes Shutter Island such a great movie. Yes, the construction of the mystery and its payoff are impressive, but it's what happens afterward that's the real kicker. Without spoiling anything (and don't let anyone tell you what happens, that's for your second viewing) Shutter Island is an emotional sucker-punch in its last ten minutes or so, leading up to Teddy's final line, one that's both on the nose for this film but also devastating for his character's arc. Martin Scorsese takes the B-Movie model and hooks it on to something deeply affective for audiences. You don't just leave Shutter Island when it ends; the film sticks with you and digs into your psyche.
And on that note, I must ask again what it is that makes this film a "lesser Scorsese", because so far the only argument I've heard in that term's favor is that "lesser Scorsese is still better than most movies" as though that makes it okay. I found nothing to be "lesser" about Shutter Island, but I've certainly talked to a lot of people who would have seen the movie had that term not been attached before it came out.
* somebody please double check me on this one. I know the year is correct, but because I have not many options to watch it again, I'm not positive of the time of year.
Which of his films qualify as "lesser works"?
I ask, in part, because many of the reviews for Shutter Island that I saw early used that very terminology as a means of "preparing" cinephiles to be disappointed in some way, but what does it really mean? We can take the obvious films (Cape Fear, The King of Comedy, and New York, New York are the usual punching bags) out of the way, and where do you go from there? Does that imply his non-gangster films are the lesser ones? The films that aren't crime dramas?
But wait, I remember people calling Casino "lesser Scorsese", and the same for The Gangs of New York. Bringing Out the Dead gets slapped with that a lot, but nobody ever seems to talk about Kundun or The Age of Innocence at all, so are they "lesser works"? Boxcar Bertha? Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore? After Hours? The Color of Money? But wait, The Color of Money revived his career and was a big hit for Paul Newman and Tom Cruise. After Hours is being taught alongside Taxi Driver as neo-noir. Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore figures prominently in almost every article about Kris Kristofferson and Ellen Burstyn, who won an Oscar for the film (Diane Ladd was also nominated). I'm a little fuzzy here.
Truthfully, there's some debate now about how "lesser" Cape Fear is, and Shutter Island is going to contribute to that discussion, because both films are exercises for Scorsese in making a particular style of film. If Cape Fear was his modernized take on the black and white thriller, then Shutter Island is Scorsese working period, this time on the technicolor cinerama films of the 1950s. Somehow it seems utterly appropriate that Criterion would release Nicholas Ray's Bigger Than Life within months of Shutter Island coming to theatres.
Ah, but I digress; Let's get to the film proper, shall we?
Federal Marshalls Teddy Daniels (Leonardo DiCaprio) and Chuck Aule (Mark Ruffalo) arrive at Shutter Island - a maximum security mental institution off the coast of Massachusetts - during the fall of 1954* to help find a patient who mysteriously disappeared from her room. When they arrive at the institution, they find very little assistance from Dr. Cawley (Ben Kingsley) or his associate Dr. Naehring (Max Von Sydow), or from much of the staff or guards. Daniels is suffering from terrible migraines and dreams of liberating Dachau, which already have him on edge, but indicators that there may be a larger conspiracy at Shutter Island send him to the edge of sanity - in exactly the last place you would want to be at that point.
Based on a novel by Dennis Lehane (Mystic River, Gone Baby Gone), Shutter Island is a throwback to B-movies of the 1950s. It could have been a Samuel Fuller film, but Scorsese opts instead to shoot it like a Douglas Sirk picture in Cinemascope: full of rich colors framed in the widest possible sense. Shutter Island is a film about the internal world rendered in epic proportions, particularly anything having to do with the cliffs that surround the island or the lighthouse that's so important to Daniels. Even on the ferry ride to Shutter Island at the beginning, the vivid oranges and purples of the sky seem to extend in every direction around Daniels and Auhe, swallowing them up. The juxtaposition of story and visual style, appropriately, tends to overwhelm the viewer.
But it is the story that's important. The mystery of what happened to Rachel Solando, the "missing" patient who may have never existed in the first place, is really just an opportunity for Daniels to get to the island. There's a chance that Andrew Laeddis (Elias Koteas), a pyromaniac responsible for Teddy's wife Delores (Michelle Williams) is in Ward C (a Civil War bunker remade as the "worst of the worst" ward), and Daniels want to confront him. The more Daniels searches, the more possible it becomes that a vast conspiracy involving neurological tests and brainwashing is happening to the patients, and even in his fragile mental state, Daniels pushes forward to follow the clues.
I think people are beating up on Shutter Island because of the "twist", which is not so much a twist as a slow reveal. There are plenty of clues from the first frame that all is not right for Agent Daniels, from the heightened colors of the sky to the way his coat looks just a little too big. Little things don't add up in the film as Daniels and Chuck investigate the missing patient, both for them, but also for the audience. Props disappear and re-appear, statements and behavior on the part of staff and prisoners is inconsistent, and Daniels' dreams point to something we can't quite pinpoint in his back story that seems very important.
Of course, if you're really paying attention, the scene with George Noyce (Jackie Earle Haley) spells it all out. It's right there in the middle of the movie - exactly what Dr. Cawley says at the end. Scorsese is just clever enough to make you doubt that's what you heard. Shutter Island is, in fact, very good at hiding the truth in plain sight; the film gives you all of the pieces to the puzzle - save for one pretty important part - but is designed in such a way that you doubt their reliability along with everything else Teddy discovers.
Then again, the "twist" itself isn't really what makes Shutter Island such a great movie. Yes, the construction of the mystery and its payoff are impressive, but it's what happens afterward that's the real kicker. Without spoiling anything (and don't let anyone tell you what happens, that's for your second viewing) Shutter Island is an emotional sucker-punch in its last ten minutes or so, leading up to Teddy's final line, one that's both on the nose for this film but also devastating for his character's arc. Martin Scorsese takes the B-Movie model and hooks it on to something deeply affective for audiences. You don't just leave Shutter Island when it ends; the film sticks with you and digs into your psyche.
And on that note, I must ask again what it is that makes this film a "lesser Scorsese", because so far the only argument I've heard in that term's favor is that "lesser Scorsese is still better than most movies" as though that makes it okay. I found nothing to be "lesser" about Shutter Island, but I've certainly talked to a lot of people who would have seen the movie had that term not been attached before it came out.
* somebody please double check me on this one. I know the year is correct, but because I have not many options to watch it again, I'm not positive of the time of year.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Blogorium Review: Twilight - New Moon
So New Moon is the second film in the Twilight series, based on the popular novels by Stephanie Meyer. Like the first film (entitled "Twilight", which is a little odd since that would make it The Twilight Series: Twilight, but that's kind of like changing the title of Pitch Black to The Chronicles of Riddick: Pitch Black, because what does that make the title of The Chronicles of Riddick?), New Moon centers on Bella Swan (Kristen Stewart), a teenager trying to make her way in the world.
At the end of Twilight, it looked like Bella and Edward Cullen (Robert Pattinson) were going to be together and happy despite the fact that he's a mopey hundred and something year old vampire that turns sparkly in the sunlight (don't ask). But some rival vampire clan isn't okay with this and things get a little heated during Bella's birthday party and Edward decides that thefarmer and the cowman should be friends world of humans and vampires shouldn't mix, especially in this specific case, so he decides to take off for parts unknown.
Bella is devastated and goes catatonic, but then this dude Jacob Black (Taylor Lautner), who was in the first movie, starts making his move, and suddenly she's caught up in this love triangle between an absentee vampire and a shirtless werewolf-
Okay, I'm just joshing you. There's no way I watched New Moon, or Twilight, nor will I ever. But I did watch Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland, and that is true. No April Fools there.
The best part is that even if I didn't put up that whole Twilight ruse to much with your schemas, you still won't believe that I kinda sorta enjoyed Alice in Wonderland. You really have to temper the hell out of your expectations, and it doesn't hurt that it cost me nothing but time to watch the movie, but I was truly ready for a massive trainwreck of a movie, which is not exactly the case.
Let's get this out of the way first: this movie could easily be called Alice's Adventures in Narnia. It's not really Alice in Wonderland in any form or fashion. Oh sure, all the characters you're expecting to see are there: the White Rabbit (Michael Sheen), the Mad Hatter (Johnny Depp), the Queen of Hearts (Helena Bonham-Carter), Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum (Little Britain's Matt Lucas), the Caterpillar (Alan Rickman), The White Queen (Anne Hathaway), The March Hare (Paul Whitehouse), the Dormouse (Barbara Windsor), and of course the Cheshire Cat (Stephen Fry). Even the Dodo from the beginning of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland is there, voiced by Michael Gough. But they, like Alice (Mia Wasikowska) are simply there to service an epic battle story.
Remember how in Prince Caspian (for the four of you who watched it), how the children return to Narnia and it's all broken down and decrepit after they left? That's Wonderland - pardon me, Underland - now, because the Queen of Hearts staged a coup with the help of the Knave of Hearts (Crispin Glover) and the Jabberwocky (Christopher Lee) and stole the White Queen's crown and Vorpal sword. Alice has been summoned back to Underland (the explanation is actually so stupid I don't want to explain it) in order to be the White Queen's Champion and slay the Jabberwocky to restore blah blah blah.
The story is crap. I mean, it's a dundering bore of a plot, hampered by its insistence that rather than finding her situation unusual, Alice insists that she's dreaming and should take nothing seriously. There's no sense of whimsy whatsoever, which I suppose is in keeping with the "take all the fun out of it" Hot Topic mentality of post-Ed Wood Tim Burton films. And believe me, Alice in Wonderland is going to make a killing for that faux-goth clothing emporium.
"But wait, Cap'n; you said you kinda sorta liked it! What gives?"
Too true. You got me; despite the fact that the story is alternately infantile and desecrating to the source material, Alice in Wonderland is a visually arresting movie. There's nothing that isn't fun to look at when Alice goes down through the rabbit hole, and Burton gets all the credit in the world for making something that had to be 95% visual effects and making it look like a world. Had I seen it in 3-D, maybe I would have appreciated that even more, but under the slightly dubious circumstances I saw it, even the partially washed out picture looked great.
The character designs are great too, and while it takes a little bit to get used to the elongated arms and legs on Crispin Glover, by the time he crashes the Tea Party hunting for Alice, you're more interested in watching the characters interact. There is a period before the battle when Burton is principally interested in re-acquainting the audience with (ugh) Underland, and that part is pretty good. Not great, or even necessarily very good, just pretty good.
I really can't forgive the ridiculous 11th hour dance sequence, as it really sticks out like a sore thumb and screams "kid's movie!" as loudly as possible. To wit: I find that funny because, for a children's movie - and this most certainly is that - primarily, Alice does cross the moat to the Queen of Hearts' castle by jumping from one decapitated head to the other. To make it clear they ARE actually heads and not head-shaped rocks, she gets her foot stuck in one and drags out some viscera. Gross, and not exactly kid-friendly, unless you like explaining to your children precisely how you get from "Off with their heads" to what Alice has to cross.
On the other hand, I really did like Stephen Fry's Cheshire Cat and Helena Bonham-Carter's Queen of Hearts. Crispin Glover is also pretty good and has a genuine speaking role for a change, but isn't exactly trading on the "weird" persona people tend to cast him for. Mia Wasikowska is also pretty good, although she doesn't have much to do as Alice. I realize that by necessity the Mad Hatter should be all over the map, but despite that it's hard to find any kind of character in Johnny Depp's performance. There are a few moments when he calms down a little bit and you get a glimpse of the Hatter behind the madness (a particularly good moment comes after *spoiler* Alice beheads the Jabberwocky. The Mad Hatter has the Knave of Hearts at sword-point, ready for the kill, but when he sees what actual killing looks like, he throws his sword down in disgust.)
You know, I'm having trouble figuring out exactly what it was I liked about this movie. Every positive I come up with is countered by an equally valid negative. I'm beginning to suspect that the Cap'n is being more forgiving of Alice in Wonderland because it wasn't totally unwatchable. It's aggressively okay, but not much more. It's certainly not something I'd own or even watch again (even in 3-D), but I suppose that the expectation for a truly awful movie was tempered enough that I'm willing to shrug and let Alice in Wonderland and I go our separate ways.
- so Bella goes to the Volturi to find Edward before he exposes himself in sunlight and is put to death. She doesn't quite get there in time, but she pleads her case to their leader Aro (Michael Sheen), and they agree to spare Edward on one condition. Because Bella has seen the vampire world when no mortal should, she has to be turned into a vampire when she's "of age", and Edward agrees to do it. But Jacob's not giving up, because werewolves and vampiresshould can never be friends. Not at least when they're duking it out over the girl from Panic Room and Catch that Kid, and I don't mean Joan Jett.
To be continued in the Blogorium review for The Twilight Saga: Eclipse...
At the end of Twilight, it looked like Bella and Edward Cullen (Robert Pattinson) were going to be together and happy despite the fact that he's a mopey hundred and something year old vampire that turns sparkly in the sunlight (don't ask). But some rival vampire clan isn't okay with this and things get a little heated during Bella's birthday party and Edward decides that the
Bella is devastated and goes catatonic, but then this dude Jacob Black (Taylor Lautner), who was in the first movie, starts making his move, and suddenly she's caught up in this love triangle between an absentee vampire and a shirtless werewolf-
Okay, I'm just joshing you. There's no way I watched New Moon, or Twilight, nor will I ever. But I did watch Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland, and that is true. No April Fools there.
The best part is that even if I didn't put up that whole Twilight ruse to much with your schemas, you still won't believe that I kinda sorta enjoyed Alice in Wonderland. You really have to temper the hell out of your expectations, and it doesn't hurt that it cost me nothing but time to watch the movie, but I was truly ready for a massive trainwreck of a movie, which is not exactly the case.
Let's get this out of the way first: this movie could easily be called Alice's Adventures in Narnia. It's not really Alice in Wonderland in any form or fashion. Oh sure, all the characters you're expecting to see are there: the White Rabbit (Michael Sheen), the Mad Hatter (Johnny Depp), the Queen of Hearts (Helena Bonham-Carter), Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum (Little Britain's Matt Lucas), the Caterpillar (Alan Rickman), The White Queen (Anne Hathaway), The March Hare (Paul Whitehouse), the Dormouse (Barbara Windsor), and of course the Cheshire Cat (Stephen Fry). Even the Dodo from the beginning of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland is there, voiced by Michael Gough. But they, like Alice (Mia Wasikowska) are simply there to service an epic battle story.
Remember how in Prince Caspian (for the four of you who watched it), how the children return to Narnia and it's all broken down and decrepit after they left? That's Wonderland - pardon me, Underland - now, because the Queen of Hearts staged a coup with the help of the Knave of Hearts (Crispin Glover) and the Jabberwocky (Christopher Lee) and stole the White Queen's crown and Vorpal sword. Alice has been summoned back to Underland (the explanation is actually so stupid I don't want to explain it) in order to be the White Queen's Champion and slay the Jabberwocky to restore blah blah blah.
The story is crap. I mean, it's a dundering bore of a plot, hampered by its insistence that rather than finding her situation unusual, Alice insists that she's dreaming and should take nothing seriously. There's no sense of whimsy whatsoever, which I suppose is in keeping with the "take all the fun out of it" Hot Topic mentality of post-Ed Wood Tim Burton films. And believe me, Alice in Wonderland is going to make a killing for that faux-goth clothing emporium.
"But wait, Cap'n; you said you kinda sorta liked it! What gives?"
Too true. You got me; despite the fact that the story is alternately infantile and desecrating to the source material, Alice in Wonderland is a visually arresting movie. There's nothing that isn't fun to look at when Alice goes down through the rabbit hole, and Burton gets all the credit in the world for making something that had to be 95% visual effects and making it look like a world. Had I seen it in 3-D, maybe I would have appreciated that even more, but under the slightly dubious circumstances I saw it, even the partially washed out picture looked great.
The character designs are great too, and while it takes a little bit to get used to the elongated arms and legs on Crispin Glover, by the time he crashes the Tea Party hunting for Alice, you're more interested in watching the characters interact. There is a period before the battle when Burton is principally interested in re-acquainting the audience with (ugh) Underland, and that part is pretty good. Not great, or even necessarily very good, just pretty good.
I really can't forgive the ridiculous 11th hour dance sequence, as it really sticks out like a sore thumb and screams "kid's movie!" as loudly as possible. To wit: I find that funny because, for a children's movie - and this most certainly is that - primarily, Alice does cross the moat to the Queen of Hearts' castle by jumping from one decapitated head to the other. To make it clear they ARE actually heads and not head-shaped rocks, she gets her foot stuck in one and drags out some viscera. Gross, and not exactly kid-friendly, unless you like explaining to your children precisely how you get from "Off with their heads" to what Alice has to cross.
On the other hand, I really did like Stephen Fry's Cheshire Cat and Helena Bonham-Carter's Queen of Hearts. Crispin Glover is also pretty good and has a genuine speaking role for a change, but isn't exactly trading on the "weird" persona people tend to cast him for. Mia Wasikowska is also pretty good, although she doesn't have much to do as Alice. I realize that by necessity the Mad Hatter should be all over the map, but despite that it's hard to find any kind of character in Johnny Depp's performance. There are a few moments when he calms down a little bit and you get a glimpse of the Hatter behind the madness (a particularly good moment comes after *spoiler* Alice beheads the Jabberwocky. The Mad Hatter has the Knave of Hearts at sword-point, ready for the kill, but when he sees what actual killing looks like, he throws his sword down in disgust.)
You know, I'm having trouble figuring out exactly what it was I liked about this movie. Every positive I come up with is countered by an equally valid negative. I'm beginning to suspect that the Cap'n is being more forgiving of Alice in Wonderland because it wasn't totally unwatchable. It's aggressively okay, but not much more. It's certainly not something I'd own or even watch again (even in 3-D), but I suppose that the expectation for a truly awful movie was tempered enough that I'm willing to shrug and let Alice in Wonderland and I go our separate ways.
- so Bella goes to the Volturi to find Edward before he exposes himself in sunlight and is put to death. She doesn't quite get there in time, but she pleads her case to their leader Aro (Michael Sheen), and they agree to spare Edward on one condition. Because Bella has seen the vampire world when no mortal should, she has to be turned into a vampire when she's "of age", and Edward agrees to do it. But Jacob's not giving up, because werewolves and vampires
To be continued in the Blogorium review for The Twilight Saga: Eclipse...
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Review Break (and some house-cleaning stuff)
Greetings readers. As you've no doubt noticed, there have been a steady stream of Blogorium Reviews over the last few days. There will be more to come, for two reasons:
1) I had the chance to watch several movies in a relatively short period of time and I'm trying to review all of them for you.
2) Because the electricity at Blogorium HQ remains shaky at best, I wrote many of them last week, including a handful of others you've yet to see. In the coming days, you can expect proper reviews for The Man Who Wasn't There, Fantastic Mr. Fox, Shutter Island, and possibly The Road.
I did also see Sherlock Holmes for the second time on Thursday, but as I've written about it twice previously (see here and here - no wait, here), and intend to give the Blu-Ray a proper write up when it arrives via Netflix, I will say that the film certainly holds up. I could pretend that I paid more careful attention to the clues (and I kinda did), but the character work from Downey and Law really do carry the film.
For those wondering if the Cap'n has yet or not: I have not seen Hot Tub Time Machine, nor do I know when I will. Issues at HQ are at times all-encompassing, and I frequently find myself staying home in order to explain something again to the newest repairman. If nothing else, the recent investment in an Uninterrupted Power Supply should prevent the computer from being fried permanently, which is of some relief to the Cap'n.
Onward and upwards, or what you can expect for the rest of the week: As I've settled on Wednesday for Video Daily Doubles, I think you shall be entertained with tomorrow's selections. Thursday brings a review that I daresay will surprise many of you, considering a position I have long upheld but may have recently caved to. Friday will either bring you Fantastic Mr. Fox or Shutter Island, with The Road or The Man Who Wasn't There on Saturday, followed by our usual Trailer Sunday hijinks.
In the meantime, as I have power and desperately need to catch up on some German homework, I must take leave of you good readers. Enjoy your evenings and the reviews to come, as I feel they should reflect what the Blogorium is about, rather than the ramblings of late.
1) I had the chance to watch several movies in a relatively short period of time and I'm trying to review all of them for you.
2) Because the electricity at Blogorium HQ remains shaky at best, I wrote many of them last week, including a handful of others you've yet to see. In the coming days, you can expect proper reviews for The Man Who Wasn't There, Fantastic Mr. Fox, Shutter Island, and possibly The Road.
I did also see Sherlock Holmes for the second time on Thursday, but as I've written about it twice previously (see here and here - no wait, here), and intend to give the Blu-Ray a proper write up when it arrives via Netflix, I will say that the film certainly holds up. I could pretend that I paid more careful attention to the clues (and I kinda did), but the character work from Downey and Law really do carry the film.
For those wondering if the Cap'n has yet or not: I have not seen Hot Tub Time Machine, nor do I know when I will. Issues at HQ are at times all-encompassing, and I frequently find myself staying home in order to explain something again to the newest repairman. If nothing else, the recent investment in an Uninterrupted Power Supply should prevent the computer from being fried permanently, which is of some relief to the Cap'n.
Onward and upwards, or what you can expect for the rest of the week: As I've settled on Wednesday for Video Daily Doubles, I think you shall be entertained with tomorrow's selections. Thursday brings a review that I daresay will surprise many of you, considering a position I have long upheld but may have recently caved to. Friday will either bring you Fantastic Mr. Fox or Shutter Island, with The Road or The Man Who Wasn't There on Saturday, followed by our usual Trailer Sunday hijinks.
In the meantime, as I have power and desperately need to catch up on some German homework, I must take leave of you good readers. Enjoy your evenings and the reviews to come, as I feel they should reflect what the Blogorium is about, rather than the ramblings of late.
Monday, March 29, 2010
Blogorium Review: Leaves of Grass
If I'm correct in reading IMDB, Tim Blake Nelson's Leaves of Grass should be playing this Friday at a theatre near you. I would recommend you go check it out; in addition to having the conceit of Edward Norton playing twin brothers - one a Professor of Philosophy and the other an awfully clever Pot Farmer - the film itself (which is also written by Nelson) takes a well worn genre and gives it some clever tweaks.
Norton plays Bill Kincaid, a Brown Professor of Philosophy who spent the better part of his life trying to disassociate himself from his mother Daisy (Susan Sarandon) and brother Brady (also Norton) and his background in Oklahoma. Despite some hiccups with a student making passes and writing suggestive love poems (in Latin), Bill is on track to have his own department at the Harvard Law School. That is, until he gets a call from Brady's friend Bolger (Tim Blake Nelson).
Brady's deep in debt to Pug Rothbaum (Richard Dreyfuss) for the cost of building his state-of-the-art hydroponic grow house, and in addition of Rothbaum's thugs hounding him for the money, he also has pressure from Jimmy and Buddy Fuller (Ken Cheesman and Steve Earle), whose dealing business he ran out of town. So Brady fakes his own death to trick Bill into coming back to Oklahoma. Brady thinks that if he can use Bill to convince people he's still in town, he can go to Tulsa and take care of Pug without consequences, then get back to being a husband and father to Colleen (Melanie Lynskey) and their unborn child.
Meanwhile, a rather confused Bill is talked into smoking up with Brady and meeting Janet (Keri Russell), a high school teacher and poet, as well as dealing with his hippie mother and coming to terms with the family he left behind.
Oh, I know. At a certain point, I was really worried that despite the philosophical backdrop and the great cast, I was just watching a variation on the "city person who left their family behind but then is drawn back in by the folksy good nature" movie. You know, the Sweet Home Alabama / Doc Hollywood kind of film. And while it is kind of that movie, Tim Blake Nelson has the good sense to take Brady's story in some unexpected directions, which Bill then has to deal with in very serious ways.
Leaves of Grass reminds me, in a lot of ways, of a much better version of Junebug. I like Junebug quite a bit, but Leaves of Grass is willing to go to darker places and constructs a better narrative, anchored by a really impressive dual role by Edward Norton. At no point did I not buy that Brady and Bill were different people. Yes, they both look like Edward Norton, and when Brady cuts his hair so that they kinda-sorta look alike, it's even clearer it's the same actor, but Bill Kincaid and Brady Kincaid are two very different people. Bill can only physically pass for Brady in the story, because Norton is that good at convincing you that they have lived different lives and that they do fundamentally see the world differently, even if they're both really intelligent about what they do.
Nelson doesn't re-invent the wheel with split screen technology here, and despite being cognitively aware of how the effects were being achieved, I still believed that two Edward Nortons were occupying the same space at times. There's a great shot involving a mirror with the two of them that really sells the physical proximity, even though it's technically impossible that Norton could be tapping himself on the shoulder.
Anyway, I don't mean to get bogged down on the technical stuff. The story keeps you going through the predictable beats and then heads down less worn roads, and the cast is all uniformly great. There are a handful of characters and plot points I'm not mentioning just to preserve some sense of discovery, but I think you'll find Leaves of Grass to be a movie worth visiting. And yes, Walt Whitman figures into the story, as though I needed to tell you that.
Norton plays Bill Kincaid, a Brown Professor of Philosophy who spent the better part of his life trying to disassociate himself from his mother Daisy (Susan Sarandon) and brother Brady (also Norton) and his background in Oklahoma. Despite some hiccups with a student making passes and writing suggestive love poems (in Latin), Bill is on track to have his own department at the Harvard Law School. That is, until he gets a call from Brady's friend Bolger (Tim Blake Nelson).
Brady's deep in debt to Pug Rothbaum (Richard Dreyfuss) for the cost of building his state-of-the-art hydroponic grow house, and in addition of Rothbaum's thugs hounding him for the money, he also has pressure from Jimmy and Buddy Fuller (Ken Cheesman and Steve Earle), whose dealing business he ran out of town. So Brady fakes his own death to trick Bill into coming back to Oklahoma. Brady thinks that if he can use Bill to convince people he's still in town, he can go to Tulsa and take care of Pug without consequences, then get back to being a husband and father to Colleen (Melanie Lynskey) and their unborn child.
Meanwhile, a rather confused Bill is talked into smoking up with Brady and meeting Janet (Keri Russell), a high school teacher and poet, as well as dealing with his hippie mother and coming to terms with the family he left behind.
Oh, I know. At a certain point, I was really worried that despite the philosophical backdrop and the great cast, I was just watching a variation on the "city person who left their family behind but then is drawn back in by the folksy good nature" movie. You know, the Sweet Home Alabama / Doc Hollywood kind of film. And while it is kind of that movie, Tim Blake Nelson has the good sense to take Brady's story in some unexpected directions, which Bill then has to deal with in very serious ways.
Leaves of Grass reminds me, in a lot of ways, of a much better version of Junebug. I like Junebug quite a bit, but Leaves of Grass is willing to go to darker places and constructs a better narrative, anchored by a really impressive dual role by Edward Norton. At no point did I not buy that Brady and Bill were different people. Yes, they both look like Edward Norton, and when Brady cuts his hair so that they kinda-sorta look alike, it's even clearer it's the same actor, but Bill Kincaid and Brady Kincaid are two very different people. Bill can only physically pass for Brady in the story, because Norton is that good at convincing you that they have lived different lives and that they do fundamentally see the world differently, even if they're both really intelligent about what they do.
Nelson doesn't re-invent the wheel with split screen technology here, and despite being cognitively aware of how the effects were being achieved, I still believed that two Edward Nortons were occupying the same space at times. There's a great shot involving a mirror with the two of them that really sells the physical proximity, even though it's technically impossible that Norton could be tapping himself on the shoulder.
Anyway, I don't mean to get bogged down on the technical stuff. The story keeps you going through the predictable beats and then heads down less worn roads, and the cast is all uniformly great. There are a handful of characters and plot points I'm not mentioning just to preserve some sense of discovery, but I think you'll find Leaves of Grass to be a movie worth visiting. And yes, Walt Whitman figures into the story, as though I needed to tell you that.
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Blogorium Review - The Descent: Part 2
Folks, I have good news and bad news. Let's get the bad news out of the way first.
By definition, The Descent: Part 2 is an unnecessary sequel. There is no reason for the film to exist, because the story is predicated on an assumption that director Neil Marshall's original ending to The Descent didn't happen. For you to even buy into The Descent: Part 2, viewers need to go with the truncated "American" ending, where Sarah (Shauna MacDonald) does escape and drives off for that last minute jump scare. The movie tries to play off her escape from the caves in a different way, but it still undermines the original ending, where it's clear she's bonkers and never leaving. But let's say we buy into that for the sake of watching this film - which is not directed or written by Marshall - and simply move forward.
Okay, so two days after the cast of The Descent go missing, a police search is underway with media coverage. It turns out that Juno (Natalie Mendoza) is the daughter of a Senator, so there's a pressing urge to find her. When Sheriff Vaines (Gavin O'Herlihy) finds out Sarah made it out and is in a nearby hospital, he drags her - along with his deputy Ellen Rios (Krysten Cummings), a spelunking instructor (Douglas Hodge) and his assistants/students (Joshua Dallas and Anna Skellern) - back into the cave system to find Juno and the other girls. Vaines assumes that Sarah killed Juno on account of all of the blood on her clothes and her semi-catatonic state.
The biggest problems I have with The Descent: Part 2 are in the opening. There's a big hurry to get back into the caves, so Vaines brings Sarah back out to the Appalachians hours after she's taken to the hospital. In fact, there's a pretty good reason to believe she's still sedated considering how choppy the narrative is up front. The other serious issue is Vaines' insistence that instead of re-directing the search in light of this discovery, he instead keeps it hush-hush and brings along an ill-equipped search team. Two police officers with no experience underground (one of whom appears to be the department's psychiatrist), a trauma victim, two students, and only one person who seems to know what he's doing. It doesn't make any sense.
But there is good news. Once the six of them get into the caves again, things get better. While the sense of claustrophobia isn't quite as pervasive as it was in The Descent, when things get tight later in the film, it does finally get unnerving. The unmemorable characters are dispensed with quickly by the Crawlers, and there is a reasonably good sense of tension in the second half of the film, particularly after (SPOILER) Juno turns out to be alive. (one minor point of contention - the opening is pretty clear that they've only been missing two days, one of which is theoretically the day in which the first film takes place, so it's a little odd that Juno goes quite as "feral" as she does when Vaines catches up with her).
Once the teams are split up and Sarah snaps of her "Barbara in Night of the Living Dead" state, it's actually a pretty good movie. Director Jon Harris finds interesting ways to keep the caves fresh, and has the good sense not to mess with what works. The Crawlers aren't really any different than they were in the first film, and that's probably for the best. It's harder to scare viewers when all the really good reveals were used in the first film, but Part 2 finds other ways to keep things moving.
The big one, I have to say, is that the gore in this film is a) all practical, and b) really gross. It's not often that you can have one really good disgusting gore moment, but Part 2 has several. A handful of them build off of deaths from the first film, but there's one moment in particular that I both give the writers and director credit for and found alternately pretty tasteless.
I imagine that most of you remember the "blood pool" scene in The Descent, so you're expecting something like that to happen in the second film. And it does. But it's not blood this time. In fact, it isn't really clear what Sarah and Rios are swimming in until a Crawler wanders over to the edge of the pool, turns around, and shits. Yes, they've been fighting in the toilet. Gross. As stupid as it sounds, the way it's revealed is more revolting than stupid, but it should give you some idea of where Part 2 is willing to go.
The acting is kinda all over the map, but Shauna MacDonald and Natalie Mendoza are still good, and when they finally cross paths again there's a nice moment of grudging respect that either one of them survived. Krysten Cummings emerges from Part 2 as the most memorable character, which is all the better considering a much better surprise ending in this film. I'm not going to spoil it, because I honestly didn't see what ends up happening coming ahead of time. That also bumps the movie into "better than I expected" territory.
Overall, while it's nowhere in the same ball park as The Descent, I have to say that Part 2 is a reasonably fun horror movie, and much better than I was expecting it to be. I thought I'd be getting into another s. Darko "so you won't have to", but this is worth checking out. Since it's going direct to DVD, I don't need to recommend you wait to rent it, because that's really your option. It's quite watchable after a bumpy beginning, and despite the fact that there is no reason for it to exist, The Descent: Part 2 is one of the better unnecessary sequels I've seen.
By definition, The Descent: Part 2 is an unnecessary sequel. There is no reason for the film to exist, because the story is predicated on an assumption that director Neil Marshall's original ending to The Descent didn't happen. For you to even buy into The Descent: Part 2, viewers need to go with the truncated "American" ending, where Sarah (Shauna MacDonald) does escape and drives off for that last minute jump scare. The movie tries to play off her escape from the caves in a different way, but it still undermines the original ending, where it's clear she's bonkers and never leaving. But let's say we buy into that for the sake of watching this film - which is not directed or written by Marshall - and simply move forward.
Okay, so two days after the cast of The Descent go missing, a police search is underway with media coverage. It turns out that Juno (Natalie Mendoza) is the daughter of a Senator, so there's a pressing urge to find her. When Sheriff Vaines (Gavin O'Herlihy) finds out Sarah made it out and is in a nearby hospital, he drags her - along with his deputy Ellen Rios (Krysten Cummings), a spelunking instructor (Douglas Hodge) and his assistants/students (Joshua Dallas and Anna Skellern) - back into the cave system to find Juno and the other girls. Vaines assumes that Sarah killed Juno on account of all of the blood on her clothes and her semi-catatonic state.
The biggest problems I have with The Descent: Part 2 are in the opening. There's a big hurry to get back into the caves, so Vaines brings Sarah back out to the Appalachians hours after she's taken to the hospital. In fact, there's a pretty good reason to believe she's still sedated considering how choppy the narrative is up front. The other serious issue is Vaines' insistence that instead of re-directing the search in light of this discovery, he instead keeps it hush-hush and brings along an ill-equipped search team. Two police officers with no experience underground (one of whom appears to be the department's psychiatrist), a trauma victim, two students, and only one person who seems to know what he's doing. It doesn't make any sense.
But there is good news. Once the six of them get into the caves again, things get better. While the sense of claustrophobia isn't quite as pervasive as it was in The Descent, when things get tight later in the film, it does finally get unnerving. The unmemorable characters are dispensed with quickly by the Crawlers, and there is a reasonably good sense of tension in the second half of the film, particularly after (SPOILER) Juno turns out to be alive. (one minor point of contention - the opening is pretty clear that they've only been missing two days, one of which is theoretically the day in which the first film takes place, so it's a little odd that Juno goes quite as "feral" as she does when Vaines catches up with her).
Once the teams are split up and Sarah snaps of her "Barbara in Night of the Living Dead" state, it's actually a pretty good movie. Director Jon Harris finds interesting ways to keep the caves fresh, and has the good sense not to mess with what works. The Crawlers aren't really any different than they were in the first film, and that's probably for the best. It's harder to scare viewers when all the really good reveals were used in the first film, but Part 2 finds other ways to keep things moving.
The big one, I have to say, is that the gore in this film is a) all practical, and b) really gross. It's not often that you can have one really good disgusting gore moment, but Part 2 has several. A handful of them build off of deaths from the first film, but there's one moment in particular that I both give the writers and director credit for and found alternately pretty tasteless.
I imagine that most of you remember the "blood pool" scene in The Descent, so you're expecting something like that to happen in the second film. And it does. But it's not blood this time. In fact, it isn't really clear what Sarah and Rios are swimming in until a Crawler wanders over to the edge of the pool, turns around, and shits. Yes, they've been fighting in the toilet. Gross. As stupid as it sounds, the way it's revealed is more revolting than stupid, but it should give you some idea of where Part 2 is willing to go.
The acting is kinda all over the map, but Shauna MacDonald and Natalie Mendoza are still good, and when they finally cross paths again there's a nice moment of grudging respect that either one of them survived. Krysten Cummings emerges from Part 2 as the most memorable character, which is all the better considering a much better surprise ending in this film. I'm not going to spoil it, because I honestly didn't see what ends up happening coming ahead of time. That also bumps the movie into "better than I expected" territory.
Overall, while it's nowhere in the same ball park as The Descent, I have to say that Part 2 is a reasonably fun horror movie, and much better than I was expecting it to be. I thought I'd be getting into another s. Darko "so you won't have to", but this is worth checking out. Since it's going direct to DVD, I don't need to recommend you wait to rent it, because that's really your option. It's quite watchable after a bumpy beginning, and despite the fact that there is no reason for it to exist, The Descent: Part 2 is one of the better unnecessary sequels I've seen.
Friday, March 26, 2010
Blogorium Review: The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus
I'm still trying to properly digest The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus, and the Cap'n has the feeling that I will probably be reviewing it again when I've had another viewing under my belt. What I can tell you is that I really liked Terry Gilliam's latest, and any concerns about the surrounding Heath Ledger business disappear quickly for two reasons:
1) Perhaps precipitously, the film addresses many issues audiences might have about Ledger's presence in the film. The character of Tony, while introduced hanging and near-dead, is essentially tied up in a moral quandry about life and death as it is, and his desire to escape into the Imaginarium is handled well enough that the substitutive performances by Johnny Depp, Jude Law, and Colin Farrell make perfect sense in the story.
2) The movie isn't really about Tony. He plays an instrumental role in the story, but Tony is more of a pawn in the ongoing struggle between Doctor Parnassus (Christopher Plummer) and Mr. Nick (Tom Waits), or The Devil. Parnassus lives eternally - perhaps a result of Nick's doing - and the two of them are constantly making bets in order to prove the other one wrong, almost all of which seem to be about who can claim more souls.
Parnassus begins the film in a bit of a mess, because he made a deal with Nick that if he ever had a child, he would give them over to Nick at age 16. His daughter Valentia (Lily Cole) doesn't know this, and despite being told she's 12 by Parnassus, his assistant Anton (Andrew Garfield) and ringmaster Percy (Verne Troyer), she knows something bad is looming on the horizon. But Nick is willing to make one more deal with the Doctor: the first person to claim five souls wins.
Herein enters Tony (Heath Ledger), and more importantly, The Imaginarium. Parnassus creates the Imaginarium by meditating, and by traveling through a mirror any person that enters is taking into their own imagination. Of course, they have to choose whether to follow Doctor Parnassus on a hard journey to spiritual enlightenment, or a quick fix with Mr. Nick that ends in flames. Many opt to take Nick's way out until Tony arrives.
Tony, it seems, has a flair for keeping people in the Imaginarium on the right path, even though he is desperately hiding from something in his own past. Terry Gilliam sets up early on that appearances can change in the Imaginarium to reflect your state of mind, and the transitions from Ledger (who seemed to have filmed almost exactly the right amount of footage) to his surrogates is seamless. If you didn't know better, you'd swear that's how the story was all along.
I'm not going to get too much further into the story until I watch it again, because I really want to spend more time with the second half of the film (particularly the Jude Law and Colin Farrell sequences), but I will say that the film does look amazing. Gilliam has finally hit upon the perfect balance between his vision and what digital effects can do, and what didn't work in The Brothers Grimm fits like a glove here.
Before I go, I really do want to mention the cast of The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus. And not just Ledger, who is actually pitch perfect as Tony - another reminder of just what audiences lost when he died two years ago. Christopher Plummer manages to balance Parnassus somewhere between a shambling mess and world weary enlightenment.
I'd never seen Lily Cole before, and didn't recognize Andrew Garfield from a few episodes of Doctor Who I'd seen, but they're both very good. Garfield has the tough task of being a roughly unlikable character - particularly compared to Tony - but he still keeps Anton sympathetic. Verne Troyer has never been better than he is as Percy; I was really quite impressed with how well he holds all of the characters and plot machinations together so effortlessly.
Johnny Depp actually has the least to do of the Imaginarium Tony's, but he's quite good. Jude Law takes a little longer to register, mostly because his Tony says very little at first (and is running most of the time), but his scene with Anton makes up for it. Colin Farrell gets the lion's share of Tony time and makes the most of it, splitting the difference between himself and Ledger as Tony's story comes full circle at the end. All three fit into the atmosphere quite well and they never make you think anything but "well, of course that's Tony!"
Special recognition has to go to Tom Waits, who is endlessly watchable as Mr. Nick. His devil is a dapper fellow in a bowler cap with bright red hair and a pencil thin moustache. Waits and Plummer are so enjoyable together that I would readily watch another movie about Parnassus and Nick if Gilliam were so inclined. Waits gives Mr. Nick an impish tone, but one that makes it clear at all times just how dangerous he really is, and while he's not underused in the film, I'd gladly take more Tom Waits.
I'm giving The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus a big recommendation for all of you, and insisting that Gilliam fans go ahead and buy a copy when it comes out on DVD and Blu-Ray next month. Personally speaking, I not only need to but very much want to see it again, because this is the sort of film that requires multiple viewings to really let it all sink in.
1) Perhaps precipitously, the film addresses many issues audiences might have about Ledger's presence in the film. The character of Tony, while introduced hanging and near-dead, is essentially tied up in a moral quandry about life and death as it is, and his desire to escape into the Imaginarium is handled well enough that the substitutive performances by Johnny Depp, Jude Law, and Colin Farrell make perfect sense in the story.
2) The movie isn't really about Tony. He plays an instrumental role in the story, but Tony is more of a pawn in the ongoing struggle between Doctor Parnassus (Christopher Plummer) and Mr. Nick (Tom Waits), or The Devil. Parnassus lives eternally - perhaps a result of Nick's doing - and the two of them are constantly making bets in order to prove the other one wrong, almost all of which seem to be about who can claim more souls.
Parnassus begins the film in a bit of a mess, because he made a deal with Nick that if he ever had a child, he would give them over to Nick at age 16. His daughter Valentia (Lily Cole) doesn't know this, and despite being told she's 12 by Parnassus, his assistant Anton (Andrew Garfield) and ringmaster Percy (Verne Troyer), she knows something bad is looming on the horizon. But Nick is willing to make one more deal with the Doctor: the first person to claim five souls wins.
Herein enters Tony (Heath Ledger), and more importantly, The Imaginarium. Parnassus creates the Imaginarium by meditating, and by traveling through a mirror any person that enters is taking into their own imagination. Of course, they have to choose whether to follow Doctor Parnassus on a hard journey to spiritual enlightenment, or a quick fix with Mr. Nick that ends in flames. Many opt to take Nick's way out until Tony arrives.
Tony, it seems, has a flair for keeping people in the Imaginarium on the right path, even though he is desperately hiding from something in his own past. Terry Gilliam sets up early on that appearances can change in the Imaginarium to reflect your state of mind, and the transitions from Ledger (who seemed to have filmed almost exactly the right amount of footage) to his surrogates is seamless. If you didn't know better, you'd swear that's how the story was all along.
I'm not going to get too much further into the story until I watch it again, because I really want to spend more time with the second half of the film (particularly the Jude Law and Colin Farrell sequences), but I will say that the film does look amazing. Gilliam has finally hit upon the perfect balance between his vision and what digital effects can do, and what didn't work in The Brothers Grimm fits like a glove here.
Before I go, I really do want to mention the cast of The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus. And not just Ledger, who is actually pitch perfect as Tony - another reminder of just what audiences lost when he died two years ago. Christopher Plummer manages to balance Parnassus somewhere between a shambling mess and world weary enlightenment.
I'd never seen Lily Cole before, and didn't recognize Andrew Garfield from a few episodes of Doctor Who I'd seen, but they're both very good. Garfield has the tough task of being a roughly unlikable character - particularly compared to Tony - but he still keeps Anton sympathetic. Verne Troyer has never been better than he is as Percy; I was really quite impressed with how well he holds all of the characters and plot machinations together so effortlessly.
Johnny Depp actually has the least to do of the Imaginarium Tony's, but he's quite good. Jude Law takes a little longer to register, mostly because his Tony says very little at first (and is running most of the time), but his scene with Anton makes up for it. Colin Farrell gets the lion's share of Tony time and makes the most of it, splitting the difference between himself and Ledger as Tony's story comes full circle at the end. All three fit into the atmosphere quite well and they never make you think anything but "well, of course that's Tony!"
Special recognition has to go to Tom Waits, who is endlessly watchable as Mr. Nick. His devil is a dapper fellow in a bowler cap with bright red hair and a pencil thin moustache. Waits and Plummer are so enjoyable together that I would readily watch another movie about Parnassus and Nick if Gilliam were so inclined. Waits gives Mr. Nick an impish tone, but one that makes it clear at all times just how dangerous he really is, and while he's not underused in the film, I'd gladly take more Tom Waits.
I'm giving The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus a big recommendation for all of you, and insisting that Gilliam fans go ahead and buy a copy when it comes out on DVD and Blu-Ray next month. Personally speaking, I not only need to but very much want to see it again, because this is the sort of film that requires multiple viewings to really let it all sink in.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Coen Brothers Midterm - Day Three: Social Commentary
3. The Coen films are sometimes considered "ahistorical" or out of touch with contemporary social reality, more interested in providing "entertainment" rather than serious commentary on political and social problems. On closer investigation, however, a case can be made that there is social commentary in their films, but presented in a way that is inconspicuous, hidden among the layers of detail in their filmic worlds. Expand on this idea.
While it is true that of the Coen brothers fourteen films (to date), nine of them are not contemporaneous with the year they were shot. In fact, even ones that can easily be mistaken – like Fargo and The Big Lebowski – are actually “period” films. This does not mean, however, that they reflect an “ahistorical” perspective. In fact, it could be argued that Blood Simple and Raising Arizona (two of the five non-“period” films which also include Intolerable Cruelty, The Ladykillers, and Burn After Reading) have less overt social commentary than does O Brother, Where Art Thou?.Everett
While it is true that of the Coen brothers fourteen films (to date), nine of them are not contemporaneous with the year they were shot. In fact, even ones that can easily be mistaken – like Fargo and The Big Lebowski – are actually “period” films. This does not mean, however, that they reflect an “ahistorical” perspective. In fact, it could be argued that Blood Simple and Raising Arizona (two of the five non-“period” films which also include Intolerable Cruelty, The Ladykillers, and Burn After Reading) have less overt social commentary than does O Brother, Where Art Thou?.
O Brother, Where Art Thou? could easily be excused as providing escapist “entertainment” over serious social commentary; the film is essentially an “old timey” musical, and on the surface appears to be Homer’s The Odyssey filtered through a nostalgic look at a bygone era of chain gangs, bank robbers, and slapstick violence. What one misses, in part because Joel and Ethan Coen are adept at hiding their messages, is a continued fascination and cynicism for politicians and religious figures, coupled with the dueling power of mysticism and technological advancement in the early stages of Franklin Roosevelt’s New Deal.
Although it is never clearly stated why he felt the need to do so, Ulysses Everett McGill (George Clooney) is not a common criminal, but instead a man illegally practicing law during the Great Depression. His gift of gab is matched only by the oratory trickery of Big Dan Teague (John Goodman), who tricks
If Big Dan Teague is corruption in disguise, Pappy O’Daniel (Charles Durning) is the crooked politician personified. Not only are his opponent, Homer Stokes (Wayne Duvall)’s claims of “nepotism” and “crony-ism” true, but every appearance of Pappy onscreen is involves scheming to win the Governor’s election by hook or by crook, even if it means stealing away Stokes’ campaign manager. Like David Huddleston’s “Big” Lebowski, the Coen’s display with Pappy O’Daniel a fondness for overweight, corrupt officials who speak out of both sides of their mouths without fear of the consequences. When Stokes is revealed to be the leader of the local Klan – a jab at so-called “reform” candidates – Pappy is quick to capitalize on the popularity of the Soggy Bottom Boys. The Coens cement the irony of political opportunism when Pappy offers Peter, Delmar, Tommy, and Everett positions in his cabinet, holding the camera on Delmar’s face, who clearly does not understand the concept of “power behind the throne, so to speak.”
At the same time, the brothers Coen juxtapose the mystical elements of The Odyssey with a light-hearted take on the “social realism” John Lloyd Sullivan is hoping to capture in Preston Sturges Sullivan’s Travels. His proposed film-within-a-film, O Brother, Where Art Thou? was co-opted by the Coen brothers and could be read as their take on the film Sullivan might have ended up with. While the looming poverty is always in the background of O Brother, so too is an optimism for the future. The cavalier attitude of George “Babyface” Nelson, like that of the openly corrupt local politicians, is only a precursor of true advancement. Everett’s faith that flooding the valley to create hydroelectric energy – part of FDR’s Tennessee Valley Authority – stands in stark contrast to Pete and Delmar’s quick fix baptisms and the blind prophet’s visions. However, the two invariably collide at the end of the film when progress meets prophecy:Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Coen Brothers Midterm - Day Two: Incongruities
4. Discuss the use of incongruity in the Coen Brothers' films - for example (in Barton Palmer's words), the "incongruity between revelation and reaction" in Fargo, or the opposition of the depraved and stupid crimes committed by the thugs and the bewildered reaction of the "normal" folks. Film scholar Douglas MacFarland suggests that there is a "generic incongruity" in the Coen films - for example, the frequent juxtaposition of horror and comedy... There are numerous examples in the films we have viewed so far. Choose several and explicate them.
The incongruity of characters, plots, and locations are a consistent motif in the films of Joel and Ethan Coen. Much of the humor in their films is derived from the juxtaposition of a conventional narrative and unorthodox locations or characters that seem inconsistent with the “reality” that governs other films.
The incongruity of characters, plots, and locations are a consistent motif in the films of Joel and Ethan Coen. Much of the humor in their films is derived from the juxtaposition of a conventional narrative and unorthodox locations or characters that seem inconsistent with the “reality” that governs other films.
Take, for example, the fascination of juxtaposing “genre” pictures – notably film noir – into locales for which they appear wholly unsuited. Miller’s Crossing, like The Man Who Wasn’t There after it, takes film noir to the suburbs, where the conventions audiences are accustomed to come under closer scrutiny. On top of this, the film is also punctuated with violence more at home in “gangster” pictures of the 1930s, which further compounds the black humor of the film. During on an assault at Leo’s suburban home, Albert Finney fires an impossibly high amount of ammunition as his would-be assailants without ever reloading. At a certain point, the coupling of the story’s overly serious tone with cartoonish violence in a typically “quiet” setting serves as a point of release for the audience. The ludicrous nature of this incongruity is cause for laughter at exactly the point Miller’s Crossing needs it.
Raising Arizona, on the other hand, creates an incongruity of character type with story: H.I. McDunnough and Ed are basically good people who go out of their way not to harm anyone, and yet the Coen brothers place them at the center of a kidnapping scheme. While they fail to reflect the ideals of a greed-driven 1980s culture, the “apocalyptic biker” Leonard Smalls represents a different kind of incongruity. A Leone-esque warrior of the wastelands, the Coen brothers present Smalls as an articulate and knowledgeable reflection of the “Free Market” capitalist. Despite his appearance, Smalls is better at negotiating the terms of Nathan Arizona’s ransom than
The Big Lebowski is constructed of incongruities, each designed to comment in one way or another on the “plot” (if there is one to speak of). The Chandler-esque narrative is transposed to the
Admittedly, it is not merely the characters that are incongruous with the story in The Big Lebowski; the
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Coen Brothers Midterm - Day One: Doppelgangers
Greetings, Blogorium readers. As the Cap'n decides exactly how he wants to move forward with life, film, and the blogorium in general, I'm going to share my freshly written answers for a midterm exam in the Coen Brothers class. Since the Blogorium's been lacking in "Critical Essays" for a while, I figure this is apropos.
6. The contemporary figure of the doppelganger (double, alter-ego, shadow self) derives from both literary and cinematic models. Give brief examples of previous models, then compare them with the various manifestations of the doppelganger in the Coens' films. What particular meaning do the Coens attach to these figures?
The Coen brothers have a tendency to use the idea of doubling, or the doppelganger, in subversive ways. Even when they create a set of doubles who must clash – as is the case in Raising Arizona – the doppelganger must always deviate from the classic definition. While steeped in literary and theoretical history, the impish Joel and Ethan Coen cannot resist twisting our expectations of recognizable psychological tropes.
6. The contemporary figure of the doppelganger (double, alter-ego, shadow self) derives from both literary and cinematic models. Give brief examples of previous models, then compare them with the various manifestations of the doppelganger in the Coens' films. What particular meaning do the Coens attach to these figures?
The Coen brothers have a tendency to use the idea of doubling, or the doppelganger, in subversive ways. Even when they create a set of doubles who must clash – as is the case in Raising Arizona – the doppelganger must always deviate from the classic definition. While steeped in literary and theoretical history, the impish Joel and Ethan Coen cannot resist twisting our expectations of recognizable psychological tropes.
In his essay “The Uncanny”, Sigmund Freud describes the doppelganger as “originally an insurance against destruction of the ego,” in the primitive mind, but manifests itself in the developed ego as “the ghastly harbinger of death” (387). The doppelganger is littered throughout film history, appearing in its most explicit – and possibly literal – form in the expressionistic classic The Cabinet of Doctor Caligari, where Cesare the somnambulist carries out the murderous wishes of the title character after dark. Fritz Lang uses a metaphoric representation of the doppelganger in M, where mirrors and reflections stand in for a direct double of Peter Lorre. When the child murderer’s madness takes over, a reflection – or shadow – is never far behind, the manifestation of his “dark self.”
The doppelganger also appears in “the language of dreams, which it is fond of representing castration by a doubling or multiplication of the genital symbol” (387). It should come as no surprise then that in Raising Arizona, H.I. McDunnough’s doppelganger, the apocalyptic rider Leonard Smalls, first appears in a dream. Smalls is the hyper-masculine expression of manhood that H.I. lacks, as a father and husband. His proclivity for destruction of “little things” expresses Thanatos, the death drive that H.I. lacks (all H.I.M’s guns are unloaded), and he wields dual shotguns, a doubling of the phallic image. Smalls is anything but. H.I. must, in order to prove his manhood, destroy his doppelganger – with literally explosive force – and assert himself as potent.
A more interesting form of “doubling” – a word that frequently appears instead of doppelganger in “The Uncanny” – occurs in The Big Lebowski. To be sure, there are many instances of characters doubling for each other: the two Jeffrey Lebowski’s, the Dude, Walter, and Donny and the Nihilists, amateur detectives The Dude and Da Fino, and the polar opposite Lebowski women (Bunny and Maude). However, the most interesting case of doppelganger comes from two characters that never actually meet.
Maude Lebowski (Julianne
Were it not for Treehorn, The Dude’s relationship with the “other” Jeffrey Lebowski would not be possible; without Maude, he would be a patsy for a non-existent kidnapping scheme. The doubles each invite The Dude to their homes under false pretenses, and his visits invariably begin with nudity and end with violence. It should hardly be considered a coincidence that the doppelganger’s worlds collapse when The Dude is drugged; his Busby-Berkley influenced dream sequence is at once a parody of Treehorn’s porn films and wish fulfillment involving Maude.
Without these dueling alter-egos driving The Dude’s search for a rug that “really ties the room together,” The Big Lebowski would have no catalyst for its story – such as it is.
Monday, March 22, 2010
Pain in the Wallet
I know you spent most of your hard earned pennies on New Moon last Friday, kiddos, but tomorrow is a kinda/sorta ridiculous day for cinematically inclined nutzoid geeks. Allow me to elaborate:
We'll start with movies coming out on Digital Versatility Disc and Blu-Ray, then move to BD exclusives....
The African Queen - Tuesday marks the first time The African Queen has ever been available on DVD in the U.S. If you've never seen it, do yourself a favor and pick this up, sight unseen. Humphrey Bogart, Katharine Hepburn, a rickety old steamboat, and John Huston directing a C.S. Forester adaptation. Just watch it, then read Hepburn's book about going to the jungle to film The African Queen and nearly losing her mind. Great stuff.
Bigger Than Life - Criterion releases another previously unavailable product of the 1950s, this one starring James Mason in a film about the dangers of medication. Also starring Walter Matthau and directed by Nicholas Ray (Rebel Without a Cause, Johnny Guitar, King of Kings), and like The African Queen, on DVD and BD.
The Fantastic Mr. Fox - I've yet to hear anyone breathe an unkind word in the direction of Wes Anderson's newest, and despite my hesitation to see it in theatres, I think I might be sold on giving it a go.
Mad Men: Season Three - the Cap'n can't honestly say he's watched the show, but I've heard great things from those who have, and if I ever get around to it, seasons one and two are in the "to watch" pile.
The Men Who Stare at Goats - You've read my review, now see the film for yourself. I do not believe you'll regret it one bit.
Now, moving on to some Blu-Ray only releases:
Days of Heaven - have you seen the Criterion Collection DVD? Remember how good that looked? Let's try to imagine Days of Heaven in 1080p, shall we? (If it helps, put in the Blu-Ray of the Malick-fied cut of The New World and let that soak in...)
Yojimbo / Sanjuro - While Criterion is putting the finishing touches on Seven Samurai, they're releasing Akira Kurosawa and Toshiro Mifune's rogue samurai films. If you consider yourself a fan of the Eastwood / Leone Spaghetti Westerns, there's no reason you shouldn't see where A Fistful of Dollars came from.
Toy Story / Toy Story 2 - Look, I already have A Bug's Life, Monsters Inc., Ratatouille, Wall-E, and Up on Blu-Ray (sorry, no Cars, and The Incredibles somehow hasn't made the leap yet). I even have the Pixar Short films BD, so there's really no question as to how on-board I am with Toy Story and Toy Story 2. As much as I love the first film, the second one really does it for me in some way, so I'm looking forward to watching it again.
Oh, and I guess The Blind Side and Brothers are coming out tomorrow, if that's your bag. I shan't leave them out in the off-chance you were waiting to hear officially. And New Moon, if for some reason you forgot about the midnight sales, or (worse) you were so busy putting together your, uh, sparkly vampire guy costume that you got there too late.
Yeah, I bet he has a name. And I dare you to be the one who posts it in a comment.
We'll start with movies coming out on Digital Versatility Disc and Blu-Ray, then move to BD exclusives....
The African Queen - Tuesday marks the first time The African Queen has ever been available on DVD in the U.S. If you've never seen it, do yourself a favor and pick this up, sight unseen. Humphrey Bogart, Katharine Hepburn, a rickety old steamboat, and John Huston directing a C.S. Forester adaptation. Just watch it, then read Hepburn's book about going to the jungle to film The African Queen and nearly losing her mind. Great stuff.
Bigger Than Life - Criterion releases another previously unavailable product of the 1950s, this one starring James Mason in a film about the dangers of medication. Also starring Walter Matthau and directed by Nicholas Ray (Rebel Without a Cause, Johnny Guitar, King of Kings), and like The African Queen, on DVD and BD.
The Fantastic Mr. Fox - I've yet to hear anyone breathe an unkind word in the direction of Wes Anderson's newest, and despite my hesitation to see it in theatres, I think I might be sold on giving it a go.
Mad Men: Season Three - the Cap'n can't honestly say he's watched the show, but I've heard great things from those who have, and if I ever get around to it, seasons one and two are in the "to watch" pile.
The Men Who Stare at Goats - You've read my review, now see the film for yourself. I do not believe you'll regret it one bit.
Now, moving on to some Blu-Ray only releases:
Days of Heaven - have you seen the Criterion Collection DVD? Remember how good that looked? Let's try to imagine Days of Heaven in 1080p, shall we? (If it helps, put in the Blu-Ray of the Malick-fied cut of The New World and let that soak in...)
Yojimbo / Sanjuro - While Criterion is putting the finishing touches on Seven Samurai, they're releasing Akira Kurosawa and Toshiro Mifune's rogue samurai films. If you consider yourself a fan of the Eastwood / Leone Spaghetti Westerns, there's no reason you shouldn't see where A Fistful of Dollars came from.
Toy Story / Toy Story 2 - Look, I already have A Bug's Life, Monsters Inc., Ratatouille, Wall-E, and Up on Blu-Ray (sorry, no Cars, and The Incredibles somehow hasn't made the leap yet). I even have the Pixar Short films BD, so there's really no question as to how on-board I am with Toy Story and Toy Story 2. As much as I love the first film, the second one really does it for me in some way, so I'm looking forward to watching it again.
Oh, and I guess The Blind Side and Brothers are coming out tomorrow, if that's your bag. I shan't leave them out in the off-chance you were waiting to hear officially. And New Moon, if for some reason you forgot about the midnight sales, or (worse) you were so busy putting together your, uh, sparkly vampire guy costume that you got there too late.
Yeah, I bet he has a name. And I dare you to be the one who posts it in a comment.
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Quick Review: UnConventional
I've decided that it's best to keep this review short; otherwise, I'm going to feel like the Cap'n is kicking a dog when it's down. See, UnConventional may be the most unflattering document of any event I've seen on DVD.
Somewhere on the cover artwork, there's a statement along the lines of "Like Trekkies for Horror Fans", which I guess is technically true if you watched Trekkies the same way I did: as a collection of increasingly goofy people that make that one super-dork you know look cool by comparison. Which is what that movie is. Trekkies is a freak show disguised as a documentary about fandom, as is Ringers: The Lord of the Fans or whatever its called. You watch because you can't help but guffaw at these poor people, but you feel awful afterwards.
UnConventional is like that, but not entirely because of the subject matter. The film attempts to be about the 13th Annual Chiller Theater Convention in East Brunswick, New Jersey. Chiller Theater is, if you've read my review of American Scary, hosted by Zacherely the Cool Ghoul, one (if not) the first Horror Hosts on television.
While Zacherely appears in UnConventional periodically, the documentary focuses primarily on one person you've heard of, one you might kinda recognize the name of, and somebody the Cap'n had to look up to figure out what she'd been in. They are (in order): Gunnar "Leatherface" Hansen, 42nd Street Pete, and Tiffany Shepis.
This is not to say that there weren't many more recognizable names at the Chiller Theater Convention. Appearing briefly on camera are Sid Haig, Bill Moseley, Linda Blair, David Carradine, Kane Hodder, Michael Jai White, Linda Blair, Cybill Danning, and Tom Savini. If you take the credits' word for it, apparently Bruce Campbell, Clint Howard, and Elvira, among others who don't appear on camera for one reason or the other.
Instead, we spend the lion's share of our time with Tiffany Shepis, who I had to look up on IMDB, and found was in Abominable and a number of Troma movies, plus LOTS of movies I've never heard of. Considering how much narration by 42nd Street Pete (who also appears in the film and, as far as I can tell, is responsible for this) and fan interaction revolves around how hot Shepis is, I'm gathering she's the sex appeal for the documentary. Mostly she drinks, complains about fans, and later in the film appears in various states of undress.
This all seems somehow tame compared to the lesser billed "star", Bob Gonzo. The producer, writer, director, andpimp employer of "Gonzo's Gorgeous Girls", Gonzo makes movies that would barely classify as "horror." Think of Fred Olen Ray crossed with the film Snuff and you have some idea. Bob Gonzo has a table at the convention to sell his sexploitation films (of which he's also the star) and to let attendees oogle his girls, who also show up. Sleazy doesn't begin to cover it.
Only Gunnar Hansen comes off looking good, mostly because he's such a genuinely likable guy in UnConventional. He's not really that attached to being Leatherface, but appreciates the fans and stays for the three day convention in order to make them happy. He doesn't get involved in the drunken parties that make up the Chiller Theater after-hours portion(s) of the doc, and is happy to sit down and talk about The Texas Chain Saw Massacre and horror fandom during the movie.
In fact, I gather that the Chiller Theater Convention is actually a reasonably cool place to be. I don't know, because UnConventional is a documentary which seems to point the camera in all the least interesting directions - like 42nd Street Pete pretending to vomit in a trash can or the world's lamest Horror Auction - for 90 minutes.
It also doesn't help that the documentary feels so low rent. At times it feels more like a collection of home movies than an actual film, and none of it seems all that intriguing to people not directly involved in the convention. The Cap'n will admit that he turned UnConventional off a few times out of boredom, particularly when they seem to run out of things to do and send Shepis down to the laundry room of the hotel in a skimpy dress.
See? This is just getting mean. I don't know any of the people involved in UnConventional, and I don't have any reason to believe they'd ever read a review of their documentary from 2004, but I feel bad beating up on them. They were doing the best they could, and I guess they thought all of this footage was pretty cool. The problem is that it makes them look silly, the fans look idiotic, and the convention look cheap and uninteresting. All of that may not be the case, but UnConventional doesn't leave me with any other verdict.
Somewhere on the cover artwork, there's a statement along the lines of "Like Trekkies for Horror Fans", which I guess is technically true if you watched Trekkies the same way I did: as a collection of increasingly goofy people that make that one super-dork you know look cool by comparison. Which is what that movie is. Trekkies is a freak show disguised as a documentary about fandom, as is Ringers: The Lord of the Fans or whatever its called. You watch because you can't help but guffaw at these poor people, but you feel awful afterwards.
UnConventional is like that, but not entirely because of the subject matter. The film attempts to be about the 13th Annual Chiller Theater Convention in East Brunswick, New Jersey. Chiller Theater is, if you've read my review of American Scary, hosted by Zacherely the Cool Ghoul, one (if not) the first Horror Hosts on television.
While Zacherely appears in UnConventional periodically, the documentary focuses primarily on one person you've heard of, one you might kinda recognize the name of, and somebody the Cap'n had to look up to figure out what she'd been in. They are (in order): Gunnar "Leatherface" Hansen, 42nd Street Pete, and Tiffany Shepis.
This is not to say that there weren't many more recognizable names at the Chiller Theater Convention. Appearing briefly on camera are Sid Haig, Bill Moseley, Linda Blair, David Carradine, Kane Hodder, Michael Jai White, Linda Blair, Cybill Danning, and Tom Savini. If you take the credits' word for it, apparently Bruce Campbell, Clint Howard, and Elvira, among others who don't appear on camera for one reason or the other.
Instead, we spend the lion's share of our time with Tiffany Shepis, who I had to look up on IMDB, and found was in Abominable and a number of Troma movies, plus LOTS of movies I've never heard of. Considering how much narration by 42nd Street Pete (who also appears in the film and, as far as I can tell, is responsible for this) and fan interaction revolves around how hot Shepis is, I'm gathering she's the sex appeal for the documentary. Mostly she drinks, complains about fans, and later in the film appears in various states of undress.
This all seems somehow tame compared to the lesser billed "star", Bob Gonzo. The producer, writer, director, and
Only Gunnar Hansen comes off looking good, mostly because he's such a genuinely likable guy in UnConventional. He's not really that attached to being Leatherface, but appreciates the fans and stays for the three day convention in order to make them happy. He doesn't get involved in the drunken parties that make up the Chiller Theater after-hours portion(s) of the doc, and is happy to sit down and talk about The Texas Chain Saw Massacre and horror fandom during the movie.
In fact, I gather that the Chiller Theater Convention is actually a reasonably cool place to be. I don't know, because UnConventional is a documentary which seems to point the camera in all the least interesting directions - like 42nd Street Pete pretending to vomit in a trash can or the world's lamest Horror Auction - for 90 minutes.
It also doesn't help that the documentary feels so low rent. At times it feels more like a collection of home movies than an actual film, and none of it seems all that intriguing to people not directly involved in the convention. The Cap'n will admit that he turned UnConventional off a few times out of boredom, particularly when they seem to run out of things to do and send Shepis down to the laundry room of the hotel in a skimpy dress.
See? This is just getting mean. I don't know any of the people involved in UnConventional, and I don't have any reason to believe they'd ever read a review of their documentary from 2004, but I feel bad beating up on them. They were doing the best they could, and I guess they thought all of this footage was pretty cool. The problem is that it makes them look silly, the fans look idiotic, and the convention look cheap and uninteresting. All of that may not be the case, but UnConventional doesn't leave me with any other verdict.
Friday, March 19, 2010
Blogorium Book Review: The Greatest Sci-Fi Movies Never Made
The Greatest Sci-Fi Movies NEVER Made
by David Hughes
2001, A Capella Books
Reviewed by the Cap'n
---
David Hughes chronicles a number of high profile Science Fiction (and to be honest, Comic Book and television) properties that failed to materialize despite considerable efforts on the part of artists, writers, designers, directors, and producers. Oh, and H.R. Giger, who appears in almost every chapter as a key figure in pre-production for The Greatest Sci-Fi Movies NEVER Made. What works is that Hughes does a very good job of putting together the stories from as many sources as possible, but the book suffers from a handful of problems, the largest of which is that the bold claim in the title is frequently undermined by the reality that many of these films WERE made.
I'm going to try very hard not to beat up on straw men here, because it's really not fair to hold a book from 2001 accountable for suggesting a number of movies would not be made that were subsequently produced and released. And believe me, I'm really having a hard time not calling out Ain't It Zoul's Harry Knowles for saying "It's a melancholy examination of that which will never come to pass..." (242) in the Afterword, because he of all people should know that in Hollywood all films are in a constant state of flux until the last penny is squeezed out of "Unrated Director's Cut" DVDs and Blu-Rays. But instead of criticizing the book for periodically unfortunate timing, I'll stick with some amusing ironies:
Had Hughes waited, let's say four years, several of the films listed under a "NEVER" moniker would at least be in active production, and quite a few of them would be already be out. For example, there are breakdowns of Spider-Man, Terminator 3, Aliens vs Predator, Superman Returns (nee Lives), I Am Legend, Watchmen, The Fantastic Four, The Silver Surfer, The Hitch-hiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Thunderbirds, and the unlikelihood that James Cameron would ever make Avatar.
What you're noticing (and what struck me) is that all of these came out not long after the book was published. While not Science Fiction, it's entirely possible that had Freddy vs. Jason found its way into the book, that also would have been a "never" going to happen movie, and yet it sits on many a shelf. But getting back to the proximity of release, I was continually reminded in the middle chapters of just how close Hughes coverage of the films was from the final version; usually no more than a script draft or directorial swap. The suggestion that a Will Smith version of I Am Legend is brought up in its chapter, although the focus is on the Ridley Scott take that didn't come to pass.
To be fair, Hughes has updated the book for a 2008 version, which I have not seen, but the point remains that "Never" unfortunately became "yeah, I saw that" for a lot of you.
What I will grant you is that none of the films were made as described in Hughes book; The I Am Legend film with Ridley Scott and Arnold Schwarzenegger did never did materialize, and probably won't since the Will Smith one did. Whether that's good or bad is a matter of debate. Like Science Fiction in general, what's outdated about the book becomes a game of speculative "what if"s.
However, not all of the book covers films that did eventually happen. The early chapters, devoted to Alfred Bester's The Stars My Destination, Arthur C. Clarke's Childhood's End, The Tourist, and two stillborn David Lynch projects (Ronnie Rocket and One Saliva Bubble) do thoroughly cover films that have not and may not ever appear. Other chapters deal with unrealized visions of Star Trek and Alien sequels, plus various takes on Dune.
I was also quite fond of the chapter on how Steven Spielberg's Night Skies idea split off and became E.T. and Poltergeist, or the strange saga of how Supernova came to be, but was the most interested in a blow-by-blow account of how The Island of Dr. Moreau became the disaster it is*. For that, I certainly felt like the book was worth reading. (I had no idea that Richard Stanley, director of Hardware and Dust Devil, was initially directing the film and subsequently fired and replaced by John Frankenheimer)
Not all of the stories are new to the book; in fact, I'd venture to guess that since Hughes lifts most of the quotes from other magazines, books, or newspapers that there's only a bit of original research, but his ability to collect it all in one volume is quite valuable. I was troubled by minor but consistent typos throughout the text, particularly when it's a case of misspelling someone's name when the correct spelling is less than half the page up.
My only other quibble was that the chapter on The Hitch-hiker's Guide to the Galaxy tries very hard to replicate Douglas Adams' style, and it doesn't really work. I had hoped it would only last a paragraph of two, but it appears sporadically throughout the chapter and is more annoying than clever. I get why Hughes tried to do it (I myself have attempted to co-opt Adams' style once or twice), but even in 2001 it had been done to death.
Overall, I'd have to say I give The Greatest Sci-Fi Films NEVER Made a "check it out" recommendation. If you happen to find it used somewhere (or the 2008 edition, which no doubt addresses many of the drawbacks), I will admit that at no point was I particularly bored. The caveat is that I spread out reading the chapters over visits to the bathroom, and I find it works quite well broken up into smaller portions. I'm not sure that sitting down and reading the book beginning to end would be the same experience.
"Never" might have been too strong of a word, but as a collection of collapsed productions and good ideas that never took off, it's definitely worth looking into.
* The film is famous for being one of the few movies a regular Blogorium reader ever walked out of.
by David Hughes
2001, A Capella Books
Reviewed by the Cap'n
---
David Hughes chronicles a number of high profile Science Fiction (and to be honest, Comic Book and television) properties that failed to materialize despite considerable efforts on the part of artists, writers, designers, directors, and producers. Oh, and H.R. Giger, who appears in almost every chapter as a key figure in pre-production for The Greatest Sci-Fi Movies NEVER Made. What works is that Hughes does a very good job of putting together the stories from as many sources as possible, but the book suffers from a handful of problems, the largest of which is that the bold claim in the title is frequently undermined by the reality that many of these films WERE made.
I'm going to try very hard not to beat up on straw men here, because it's really not fair to hold a book from 2001 accountable for suggesting a number of movies would not be made that were subsequently produced and released. And believe me, I'm really having a hard time not calling out Ain't It Zoul's Harry Knowles for saying "It's a melancholy examination of that which will never come to pass..." (242) in the Afterword, because he of all people should know that in Hollywood all films are in a constant state of flux until the last penny is squeezed out of "Unrated Director's Cut" DVDs and Blu-Rays. But instead of criticizing the book for periodically unfortunate timing, I'll stick with some amusing ironies:
Had Hughes waited, let's say four years, several of the films listed under a "NEVER" moniker would at least be in active production, and quite a few of them would be already be out. For example, there are breakdowns of Spider-Man, Terminator 3, Aliens vs Predator, Superman Returns (nee Lives), I Am Legend, Watchmen, The Fantastic Four, The Silver Surfer, The Hitch-hiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Thunderbirds, and the unlikelihood that James Cameron would ever make Avatar.
What you're noticing (and what struck me) is that all of these came out not long after the book was published. While not Science Fiction, it's entirely possible that had Freddy vs. Jason found its way into the book, that also would have been a "never" going to happen movie, and yet it sits on many a shelf. But getting back to the proximity of release, I was continually reminded in the middle chapters of just how close Hughes coverage of the films was from the final version; usually no more than a script draft or directorial swap. The suggestion that a Will Smith version of I Am Legend is brought up in its chapter, although the focus is on the Ridley Scott take that didn't come to pass.
To be fair, Hughes has updated the book for a 2008 version, which I have not seen, but the point remains that "Never" unfortunately became "yeah, I saw that" for a lot of you.
What I will grant you is that none of the films were made as described in Hughes book; The I Am Legend film with Ridley Scott and Arnold Schwarzenegger did never did materialize, and probably won't since the Will Smith one did. Whether that's good or bad is a matter of debate. Like Science Fiction in general, what's outdated about the book becomes a game of speculative "what if"s.
However, not all of the book covers films that did eventually happen. The early chapters, devoted to Alfred Bester's The Stars My Destination, Arthur C. Clarke's Childhood's End, The Tourist, and two stillborn David Lynch projects (Ronnie Rocket and One Saliva Bubble) do thoroughly cover films that have not and may not ever appear. Other chapters deal with unrealized visions of Star Trek and Alien sequels, plus various takes on Dune.
I was also quite fond of the chapter on how Steven Spielberg's Night Skies idea split off and became E.T. and Poltergeist, or the strange saga of how Supernova came to be, but was the most interested in a blow-by-blow account of how The Island of Dr. Moreau became the disaster it is*. For that, I certainly felt like the book was worth reading. (I had no idea that Richard Stanley, director of Hardware and Dust Devil, was initially directing the film and subsequently fired and replaced by John Frankenheimer)
Not all of the stories are new to the book; in fact, I'd venture to guess that since Hughes lifts most of the quotes from other magazines, books, or newspapers that there's only a bit of original research, but his ability to collect it all in one volume is quite valuable. I was troubled by minor but consistent typos throughout the text, particularly when it's a case of misspelling someone's name when the correct spelling is less than half the page up.
My only other quibble was that the chapter on The Hitch-hiker's Guide to the Galaxy tries very hard to replicate Douglas Adams' style, and it doesn't really work. I had hoped it would only last a paragraph of two, but it appears sporadically throughout the chapter and is more annoying than clever. I get why Hughes tried to do it (I myself have attempted to co-opt Adams' style once or twice), but even in 2001 it had been done to death.
Overall, I'd have to say I give The Greatest Sci-Fi Films NEVER Made a "check it out" recommendation. If you happen to find it used somewhere (or the 2008 edition, which no doubt addresses many of the drawbacks), I will admit that at no point was I particularly bored. The caveat is that I spread out reading the chapters over visits to the bathroom, and I find it works quite well broken up into smaller portions. I'm not sure that sitting down and reading the book beginning to end would be the same experience.
"Never" might have been too strong of a word, but as a collection of collapsed productions and good ideas that never took off, it's definitely worth looking into.
* The film is famous for being one of the few movies a regular Blogorium reader ever walked out of.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Growl, Argh!
Welcome to another truncated visit to the Blogorium! I knew that I was spoiling you good readers by being up early and posting while I was waiting for people to do things with the power, but you'll just have to get used to later postings again, because the Cap'n was really only up so early because he's sick and prone to waking up at 5 a.m. and not being able to get back to sleep.
Now that I'm, uh, slightly less sick, I'll probably get back to my regimen of posting later at night and trying to sleep like a human being, or bear disguised as a human being that's been shot by a tranquilizer dart at close range by people who think that's a funny thing to do to a human-looking bear that's sleeping in bed. Or something like that.
Luckily for you, the electrician is coming back tomorrow to put in new outlets (or something to that effect), theoretically ensuring that no more power hiccups plague Blogorium Central. Then I can get back to my regimen of watching something from beginning to end without the TV, PS3, PC, and lights inexplicably cutting out and then right back on.
I actually have a few things in the works:
- I started watching MST3k's The Final Sacrifice, which I do admit is pretty damned funny in its first half hour (although disappointingly Rowsdower-free). I'll try to wrap that up by Saturday and give you my thoughts, along with a recap of the "Crow vs. Crow" extra on The Beatniks.
- the Cap'n is also 3/4's of the way through UnConventional, which might also be called "the lamest convention ever": focusing on the 13th Annual Chiller Theatre Horror Convention in New Jersey from... geez, at least five years ago but probably longer (they keep making reference to the Texas Chainsaw Massacre remake not being in theatres but also not on "home video" yet). I'll get into the specifics when the full review comes up, but so far the focus has been... maybe I could say "off."
- A book called The Greatest Sci-Fi Films NEVER Made, which (and I mean this in the best way possible) has made for good bathroom reading. Again, I'll get into the specifics soon, but the funny thing I've noticed is that if David Hughes had waited oh, two years, half of the book's chapters would end with the "NEVER" being removed. (I notice there's a "revised" version on Amazon from 2008, but the one I'm almost done with is from 2002 or so and is devoted to a number of movies that happened shortly after publication, like Superman Returns , Aliens vs. Predator, and The Hitch-Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy. More amusing are assertions that Watchmen and Avatar "will probably never happen").
Okay, I need to be up early tomorrow morning so we can restore power to HQ, and the tranquilizer dart is finally penetrating my thick layers of bear-fur. Sleeeepy...
Now that I'm, uh, slightly less sick, I'll probably get back to my regimen of posting later at night and trying to sleep like a human being, or bear disguised as a human being that's been shot by a tranquilizer dart at close range by people who think that's a funny thing to do to a human-looking bear that's sleeping in bed. Or something like that.
Luckily for you, the electrician is coming back tomorrow to put in new outlets (or something to that effect), theoretically ensuring that no more power hiccups plague Blogorium Central. Then I can get back to my regimen of watching something from beginning to end without the TV, PS3, PC, and lights inexplicably cutting out and then right back on.
I actually have a few things in the works:
- I started watching MST3k's The Final Sacrifice, which I do admit is pretty damned funny in its first half hour (although disappointingly Rowsdower-free). I'll try to wrap that up by Saturday and give you my thoughts, along with a recap of the "Crow vs. Crow" extra on The Beatniks.
- the Cap'n is also 3/4's of the way through UnConventional, which might also be called "the lamest convention ever": focusing on the 13th Annual Chiller Theatre Horror Convention in New Jersey from... geez, at least five years ago but probably longer (they keep making reference to the Texas Chainsaw Massacre remake not being in theatres but also not on "home video" yet). I'll get into the specifics when the full review comes up, but so far the focus has been... maybe I could say "off."
- A book called The Greatest Sci-Fi Films NEVER Made, which (and I mean this in the best way possible) has made for good bathroom reading. Again, I'll get into the specifics soon, but the funny thing I've noticed is that if David Hughes had waited oh, two years, half of the book's chapters would end with the "NEVER" being removed. (I notice there's a "revised" version on Amazon from 2008, but the one I'm almost done with is from 2002 or so and is devoted to a number of movies that happened shortly after publication, like Superman Returns , Aliens vs. Predator, and The Hitch-Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy. More amusing are assertions that Watchmen and Avatar "will probably never happen").
Okay, I need to be up early tomorrow morning so we can restore power to HQ, and the tranquilizer dart is finally penetrating my thick layers of bear-fur. Sleeeepy...
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Additionally
Don't think the Cap'n doesn't know you were all out picking up New Moon at midnight last night. I may not have been conscious, but my psychotic psychic projection was, and it saw you.
ALL OF YOU
ALL OF YOU
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