Sunday, February 7, 2010

After Dark Horror Fest 4: Final Thoughts

Instead of doing the eight movies in three days, we did the movies in five, and I don't actually think that made much of a difference. You have to wonder, particularly around the fourth or fifth movie (usually toward the end of day 2) whether or not fatigue is weighing on your judgment.

But Unearthed was the first movie of the second fest, and also one of the hardest to sit through. Meanwhile, Autopsy was the sixth movie we saw last year, and one of the most fun. So, I'm inclined to think that I'm really responding to the movies, and not sleepiness. Truly, Lake Mungo is positively soothing.

If there was a theme this time, I'd say it was "man's inhumanity to man". Of course, that's not a big surprise for horror flicks in general, but it really did seem to be a strong undercurrent. There were no monsters to speak of, except for the Zombies of Mass Destruction—where the theme was very strongly man's inhumanity to man—and the putative demon of The Graves.

The rest was ghosts and people behaving badly, or both. Which, again, is not a big surprise for horror movies, but the kind of far out element of a Gravedancers or Deaths of Ian Stone was completely missing.

The standouts were Zombies of Mass Destruction and Dread for being the ones that really grabbed you, while The Graves stood out as being remarkably bad, sadly. (A sequel is already planned; maybe it will be better.) Lake Mungo stood out as being just not horror. Kill Theory was a pleasant surprise.

Overall, the highs were not as high and the lows not as low. Dread was probably the movie that hung together the best.

Most of the movies did not screw up the ending, which was a pleasant change over last year. There was also a distinct absence of all-over scuzziness. In other words, a lot of horror movies get their twist by, or operate on the basis of, everyone in the whole world being a creep, a sadist or otherwise evil. I mean, The Final, Dread and Kill Theory were basically about human nature under stressful circumstances, to say the least, and all three took the viewpoint that people weren't, basically, evil.

The strongest part of The Grave was the sorroral relationship of the Graves sisters, to where I would give the sequel a try.

I expressed my doubt last year as to whether there could be another Horror Fest after the poor attendance, and the number of venues drastically shrunk this year without, from what I could tell, any increase in the attendance. The larger audiences seemed to be actual members of the cast and crew.

It was kind of neat seeing the cast and crew but as I said, that also makes it a little more awkward when the movie is bad.

Overall, we had fun and will be back next year, if there is one, and it's not even further away.

Saturday, February 6, 2010

After Dark Horror Fest 4: Lake Mungo

Way back in 2006, when the very first Horror Fest was, and they had some advertising budget, the After Dark folks tried the angle of "horror movies TOO INTENSE for regular release". This was two years after Saw had been released to general popularity, however, and none of the movies came anywhere near that level of intensity (to say nothing of gore).

They've dropped that now, and good thing, since Lake Mungo—the last of the eight movies for us—isn't, in fact, a horror movie.

It's a mystery. It's a ghost story. It's a travelogue for Victoria, Australia. But mostly, it feels like a "documentary" on the SyFy channel, without the cheesy narrative. (Actually, the style is very much like a Christopher Guest mockumentary, so if he decides to make one of those again, haunting would be a great topic.)

It's the documentary aspect that guarantees a complete absence of any sort of real visceral shocks or thrills. This isn't Blair Witch Project or Paranormal Activity style of "hey, we found the videotapes"; this is characters being interviewed after the fact. You know right off the bat none of them died or sprouted tentacles or whatever.

That said, this is a fairly well crafted story of the Palmer family, who loses their daughter while swimming at the lake. (Not the titular Lake Mungo, however.) Then it alternately looks like they were being haunted, and then not, and then haunted, and then maybe just subject to a less supernatural (but creepier!) kind of harrassment, as they try to make sense out of the whole thing.

Along the way we learn a surprising detail or two about the missing Alice and her brother Matthew, and then the mysterious secret of what happened to Alice at summer camp the season before that changed her. (That camp was the titular Lake Mungo.)

The truth will SHOCK you.

Nah, not really. It might give you a little frisson, if I may abuse that word. It won't make a lot of sense. And, on reflection, the big reveal sort of reminds me of The Reeds, where I didn't much care for it either.

This one has a curious message: If you ignore ghosts, they'll go away. I suppose, strictly speaking, that's true. Barring a violent poltergeist like The Entity, you can just ignore anything incorporeal by definition.

But it's not real exciting. I will concede that the time-lapse photography of Victoria is absolutely breathtaking, though it set up a particularly slow, almost soporific, rhythm. (At one point The Boy thought I had fallen asleep. I'm pretty sure I hadn't, but I was sitting back with my eyes half-closed.)

The stinger is kind of interesting (and runs through the first part of the final credits), though still, if you dare call it a horror movie, then it's is a horror movie for people who don't like horror movies. Or being scared much. (Looking at you, Darcy!)

Noteworthy is Talia Zucker, who plays Alice, the missing girl. She never appears in the movie, except on "archival footage", you might call it, and she has no dialogue, I don't think. But she (or perhaps more accurately, the director) manages to create a presence.

I was glad we saw it last. It was so low-key and mild that it would have put me to sleep for the movies that came after it. But it sure ended the festival on a quiet note.

Friday, February 5, 2010

After Dark Horror Fest 4: The Final

Another first time outing for the revenge story The Final, though director Joey Stewart has a substantial assistant director credits. Writer Jason Kabolati has a few credits, too. And the cast is fairly experienced, too. I mention this for no reason in particular.

The Final is the story of two sets of clichés at odds with each other. Clichés that would've made John Hughes blush. On the one side you have the jocks and cheerleaders. On the other, the outcasts. The former, naturally, torment the latter. And then, the icing on the cliché cake: The cool kid (the only black kid in the school, natch) who bridges the two worlds.

When I say cliché, I'm not talking mild similarities, either, to school archetypes. The "popular" kids are so incredibly cruel to the geeks, and in such typical ways, while the geeks themselves are just a little more varied, that there's virtually no reason to add any characterization. You're not surprised that the alpha jock is cheating on his girlfriend, and you could probably guess what class the banjo player is when he plays D&D. (Druid.)

Is this bad? Well, not necessarily. It's easy to instantly hate the villains, which is always good considering the protagonists' are going to do terrible things to them. The protags are blandly inoffensive at worst, really—they actually don't do anything overtly geeky, or anything at all, really. It's a very one-sided story.

The villains are so villainous, that when the outcasts trick them, drug them and capture them, you're not really feeling sorry for them. You don't feel all that sympathetic for the outcasts either, though, curiously. The whole thing doesn't resonate much.

Actually, this also isn't necessarily a bad thing, since the outcasts do some pretty horrible things. Acids, cattle guns, gun guns, traps, etc. If you really felt deeply for anyone, it would be an awful experience. As a morality play acted out by symbols, it's much more bearable.

Some of the effects are weirdly bloodless. They're cuttin' off fingers (e.g.) right and left, but not much blood comes out.

Oh, yeah. There's a crazed Vietnam vet, too. He looked a little young to me, but I guess the last troops came out in 1973, so I guess he was plausible. (He didn't look much older than I, but I look old.) Anyway, seems like those guys are getting long in the tooth to keep being the go-to-troops for crazy.

Anyway, the whole thing sort of lopes along. There were some moments where the director came very close to giving us some great, Hitchcockian suspense, but those were safely bypassed without much excitement. The story elements are all there but not really fully engaged. So, there's close calls and betrayals and surprises but none of it really grabs you.

Again, not necessarily a bad thing.

Then it's over. The characters, the audience, and I guess the filmmakers, have had enough.

They didn't screw up the ending. I think there was a real attempt to make it plausible. (There were some rumors about being based on a true story. Don't believe it. The school torment plausibly was; the violent retribution? Not so much.)

I'm dunno. The whole thing felt a little conflicted. Like it didn't want to be there. On the one hand, there's no torture porn aspect, i.e., you're not expected to enjoy it. (Or if that was intended, it wasn't successful.) On the other hand, the violence feels understated—not really as horrible and visceral as it would really be.

It comes off kind of paper thin, such that the stinger kind of makes you go, "Oh. I get it," without really feeling anything.

The Boy kind of liked it, but it didn't knock our socks off.

Thursday, February 4, 2010

After Dark Horror Fest 4: The Reeds

A group of six young adults rent a boat for a weekend to go out in the marshes. What could possibly go wrong?

Well, your boat could be trashed and all the other boats be out for the weekend.

But wait! The old boat rental guy has an old boat he doesn't rent out much but will let you have if you want. Great. Weekend saved. Nothing else could possibly go wrong, right?

Well, your boat could be covered with recalcitrant teenagers. Including the one that ran out in front of your car on the way in.

But wait! You offer them some beers and they go away. So, now you're good to go. Nothing else could possibly go wrong, right?

Well, you could get lost. There's nothing out there as far as the eye can see and the reeds make a kind of maze. And of course your cell phones don't work. And there's all this junk at the bottom of the marsh that might just end up wrecking your boat.

But that's gotta be it, right? It's not like there's anything in the reeds to worry about. Except maybe those kids who seem to be able to show up wherever you go ahead of you, and without needing any cars or boats or fancy things like that.

And of course, some of your friends (or you) could end up dead.

So, basically, this is a typical vacation movie.

Seriously, this is a reasonably well-executed movie that throws in a lot of miscues to create some mystery and horror around what's basically a straight ghost story.

The problem with a movie like this is that it throws all these cues out about what the movie's about, and doesn't follow through with them. Like, you might think that the boat was significant, since the movie makes a point of that boat being the only one available. Like, if the only place to spend the night is the creepy motel outside the city limits, you expect that creepy motel to factor into things.

But the boat never does. And there's nothing in the reeds, at least nothing like the camerawork implies. In the end, it's a ghost story. There's a twist with the lead, but I saw it coming, well, almost immediately.

In the end, I was pretty satisfied, though the multiple distractions bored me a bit.

And then, they screwed it up in the last 2 seconds again. The movie's end is pretty good, but the stinger throws the whole damn thing into question, makes no freakin' sense, and can't even be described as a plausible lead-in for a sequel.

Pointless. Pissed us off, too. Otherwise, The Boy rather liked it.

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

After Dark Horror Fest 4: Dread

If you wanted to put a label on what it is I dislike about "Usher" movies like Skjult, you could use "Dread" pretty accurately. Dread, of course, is not wanting to confront something, generally out of fear. For me, dread quickly turns to boredom and sleepiness. (Just get it out of the way already!)

Fortunately, Dread, the movie, is nothing like that. Clive Barker is attached (author of the original story and producer) which says to me that a) there's gonna be some kinky sex, and; b) the ending's gonna be dark.

Dread is the story of young Stephen (Jackson Rathbone of the Twilight series) who falls under the sway of the moody, angry Quaid (Shaun Evans, evoking a kind of young Dennis Leary) and agrees to elicit his friend Abby's help in collecting people's stories of—you guessed it—dread.

Rounding out the core cast is Hanne Steen as Cheryl, a girl who works in the used bookstore with Stephen, and who has a birthmark that covers half her face and body.

I may have Abby and Cheryl mixed up, in terms of their roles. I actually wondered for a second if they were the same actress, and if this were some sort of surreal turn, but it was just a matter of having cast two dark-haired, doe-eyed 5'4"/5'5" actresses.

Most of the initial stories are trivial and Quaid gets more and more dissatisfied with their "progress", until Abby shares a personal story of abuse. We've already learned that Stephen lost an older brother to a car accident, but Quaid trumps them all: He saw his mother and father murdered with an axe.

One of the interviewees, a young man who experienced years of deafness after a trauma, pinpoints the dread: After surviving suffering, you have this dread that you will suffer it again. As bad as the others have it, when your dread is focused on an axe murderer coming back to get you, that trumps most other fears.

This movie really underscored a probably unconscious theme in this year's selections: Man's inhumanity to Man. There's not a monster movie in the lot.

Anyway, the first half of the movie builds up the tension, as Stephen and Abby hook up and Quaid ends up hooking up with Cheryl, in what at least initially seems almost like an act of kindness.

I actually had a little problem with this storyline: Hanne Steene (I think it's her) is really, really cute. A bit bubbly. The birthmark actually looks, well, sexy. Kind of like a superhero mask. (The movie needed a bit more of showing her shyness.) Also, while Stephen is interested in Abby, that seems to start at the beginning of the movie, and doesn't explain why he's not all over Cheryl, who's interested. (The implication is almost that it's her birthmark, which just strikes me as dumb.)

That aside, the disintegration of the characters, particularly Quaid, who becomes obsessed with taking things to "the next level" is fascinating—and (typically of Barker) increasingly sadistic.

Philosophically, the story's actually a little weak and limited in its understanding of terror. Quaid's theory is that, in a tragedy, the terror comes from thinking "that could happen to me". I don't really buy that.

That aside, this is a low-key psychological horror film that pays off in a fairly big way, though a way that is really, really creepy and gross.

Another theme of the festival: the director Anthony DiBlasi is a first-timer, and shows a lot of promise. Overall, we both liked this one, and were especially pleased that they didn't screw it up.

After Dark Horror Fest 4: Hidden (Skjult)

We started our third day of the Horror Fest with the Norwegian flick, Hidden. One of my idiosyncratic movie genre labels is "Usher" (after Poe's tale "The Fall of the House of Usher", not the hippity-hoppity guy). In an "Usher" movie, it is clear that the main character(s) is(are) doomed from the opening scene from events that have occurred in the past. Whatever struggles seem to grant any kind of light or hope of escape are merely teases; there is, in fact, no plot movement whatsoever because the plot happened before scene 1.

In the very first ADHF, their big movie was The Abandoned, which epitomizes the genre, down to the main character fighting with her family in the ancestral manse. Blair Witch has a little of that feel. Jacob's Ladder sort of fits, too, and 1408 has much of the feel, but the key emotion is an overwhelming despair. A sort of nihilism.

I generally hate those kinds of movies. I actually skipped the last three movies of ADHF 1 because I couldn't take any more after The Abandoned. They feel like cheats to me, like a denial of free will.

So, when the main character of Skjult comes home to the house he's inherited from his recently deceased evil mom, I despaired. But then he had two big cans of gas, and I was happy. But then the local sheriff (a girl who kind of likes him) stops him, and I despaired again.

That's sort of how these movies work. You think there's an out but there's not.

Another thing these movies like to do is present you with all these riddles. And then not resolve them in any comprehensible way. Honestly, it makes me pass out, and I had a hard time staying awake for the film, which was subtitled.

I should point out that The Boy rather liked it, except for the last two seconds, which he decided to pretend did not occur.

Basically, the movie opens at night with a young boy taking a pee by the side of the road as his parents wait in the car. Out in the (gorgeously shot) forest, a hand emerges from the ground, then a whole boy, half-naked, of a similar age as the micturating one. Half-naked boy runs in wild escape, out into the road, when a truck swerves to miss him and runs into the car containing the other boy's parents. (Bet he wishes he'd gone at the rest stop like they asked him to then!)

Nineteen years later, our hero K.K. returns to make sure his mom is really dead. It's somewhat confusing but, it turns out K.K. is half-naked wild boy. Beyond that, things get a little murky. K.K. apparently spent some time in foster homes. Pee Boy, on the other hand, fleeing the accident, died the night of the car crash when he plunged over the side of a cliff, into a (gorgeously shot) waterfall.

Or did he?

Basically, K.K. is haunted by the notion that Pee Boy—er, Peter, is the character's name—didn't actually die, but was instead captured by his mother and subsequently abused, just as she abused K.K.

The other problem with this sort of movie is that the main character (and what he experiences) is unreliable and/or the director bends reality to cheat however is needed to keep things bleak. (Blair Witch's walking in circles thing for example.) So, it's very hard to tell whether a character is crazy or just more aware.

We never do learn why everyone hates K.K. We don't know if the girl at the hotel is real, or even if the hotel itself is real. And if it is, why is the room number significant, or is it not that the number itself is significant, but just our cue that he's not really in said hotel?

Meh. These movies are filled with stuff like that. But while it can make you try to puzzle out the plot, it doesn't make the process palatable.

But again, I'm not your go-to guy for reviews of stuff like this since, as I point out, I don't like this whole genre. The Boy was unfazed and thought it original and fresh (except for the last two seconds). So. There you are.

After Dark Horror Fest 4: Zombies Of Mass Destruction

This is another movie where the cast and crew were around. In fact, we kept seeing the director hanging around in the lobby while we killed time between movies. In a lot of ways, this movie is the antithesis of The Graves. The direction and editing is fantastic: It's smart, funny, campy, sharp and pops.

And at the end, I began to think if I stayed for director Kevin Hamedani's Q&A, I'd end up smacking him in the face.

But let's talk about the good: This is the story of Frida Abbas (Janette Armand), a Persian who's come back to her small northwestern hometown of Port Gamble, just in time for a zombie outbreak. Frida's dropped out of Princeton, much to the disappointment of her traditional father (played wonderfully by, I'm guessing, the director's actual father). No less disappointing is her taste in boyfriends (Ryan Barret as Derek, who composes a song largely composed of repeating "Frida" over-and-over again).

Meanwhile, closeted homosexual Tom (Doug Fahl) is back from New York with boyfriend Lance (Cooper Hopkins), preparing to come out to his mom. And hippie Cheryl (Cornelia Moore) is running to oust Mayor Burton (James Mesher), who is busy commiserating with the desultory Reverend Haggis (Bill Johns) about how things have gone to Hell.

Oh, yeah, and there are zombies, but nobody seems to notice. (Very Shaun of the Dead.)

As I said, the script pops. Lots of jokes and cute plot points, so that when the first zombie attack occurs, you are genuinely shocked. (This movie actually shocks pretty well, though it never achieves the tension you get from other zombie comedy classics, like Shaun or Return of the Living Dead.) The director's hand is as sure in the action sequences as in the character building.

So, about the slapping?

Well, first of all, this movie is pretty left. Not entirely left and, in fact, some of the best parts are the ones where the political tilt is dropped for a good joke. But it starts with the Persian girl being accosted by a redneck family. The wife apologizes for the war in Iraq and says they always vote Democrat. The husband demurs. ("I don't vote for pussies!") And, of course, they don't know the difference between Iraqi and Iranian.

Eh. It's fine. It's funny enough, at first. But at a later point, the redneck dad decides he's going to torture Frida, and the torture theme is re-introduced in the church later on, in reference to the gay couple. The movie really breaks down at these points, particularly the later scenes in the church. The third act church scenes, while funny, completely rob the movie of any momentum.

But there was something else that began to bug me, early on, and more and more as the movie progressed. The initial horror movie scene—the one I talked about in reference to The Graves, where the movie ceases to be one kind of movie and clearly becomes a horror flick—is shocking and also (intentionally) kind of funny, because it's so far over the top.

And there are other similarly over the top gore scenes, including a pan-by of a body which is sending up two small steady streams of blood like a fountain, zombies eating their own body parts, and so on. Clearly meant as campy fun.

But there's a cruelty there, too. The director seems to relish some of the really painful parts, to the point that borders on torture porn. Too, there are scenes of our Persian and gay characters hacking up zombies that smack of revenge fantasy. (Note that Hamedani is a native of a small Washington town which both makes one think he's relating real experiences and also maybe indulging a bit.) I realized halfway on that the only smart and really likable characters were the ones from out of town, with a nod to Frida's dad, who gets more sympathy than any other character.

And there's a scene at the end with a fence that commemorates the attacks in pictures on letters to the dead which has some funny aspects to it on the one hand, but on the other seems like a tasteless comparison to 9/11.

I think that was ultimately why I wanted to slap the Director: The guy is clearly talented, extraordinarily so. He used a crew of largely inexperienced actors and crew and put together a movie that largely succeeds, and beyond expectations. But even allowing for the fact that the movie's supposed to be campy and satirical, and therefore not entirely warm, I felt like I could easily see this talent being wasted from a lack of empathy to other viewpoints.

Nonetheless, this is probably the best of show.

Monday, February 1, 2010

After Dark Horror Fest 4: The Graves

If you're a regular reader, then you've probably grasped that I don't care particularly for trashing movies. There are a lot of reasons for that. It is fun to make fun of movies, of course, and I can certainly rail with the best of them about things I don't like.

But when you get down to it, making a movie is an accomplishment, involving at least dozens of people and often hundreds. And even bad movies bring joy (which is why I'd usually prefer to see an awful movie than just a mediocre one) and a certain sense of amazement.

And if I don't like it in general, you can imagine how it is when the cast and crew is in the audience. You don't want to—well, I don't want to, I can't speak for your character—say, "Hey, nice to meet you. You suck."

Which brings us to The Graves. This is kind of a cute title since the movie isn't graveyard based but based on the The Graves sisters, Abby and Megan. Megan is on her way to New York City, which will separate the two for the first time. For reasons that elude me, this leads to the world's shortest road trip, where they end up in Skull City.

The director (Brian Pulido) came up before the movie and thanked everyone, his wife, Francisca, was a co-producer, and the other producers, the Ronalds Brothers were there. (The movie has, like, six executive producers, whose contribution was just money, I believe.) And he thanked the cast for doing a great job, etc.

Unfortunately, it's a terrible movie. And most of that can be laid at the director's feet, with most of the rest laid at Dean Matthew Reynolds' feet, as he doubled as the film's editor.

The Boy said the acting was terrible. I disagreed. One of the things I've learned over the years is that, in low budget movies, editing is the big killer. Think for a moment of a daytime soap. There are these long pauses in between the lines, and especially on fade outs. It makes everything seem stilted.

I've seen great actors reduced to looking foolish by bad editing. Or, say, bad directorial choices. (See Jeremy Irons in Dungeons and Dragons. Or don't. You'll be glad you didn't.) So, for the most part, I'd say it wasn't bad acting, but bad editing and bad choices.

The great Tony Todd, who has provided menace for dozens of movies and TV shows, is ridiculously over the top. There's another guy who talks in the same overblown baptist preacher cadence who is also absurd. But someone told them to play it that way (Brian).

To recap the plot, Megan (played by Maelstrom PB-girl Clare Grant) and Abby (the teeny Jillian Murphy) are splitting up, in a kind of Cloverfield-party sequence shot off-and-on on camcorder, and then off on the road to Skull City (also shot off-and-on in handicam style), where they're terrorized by some murderous folk.

This is more-or-less a remake of the first part of Texas Chainsaw Massacre, down to where every single person in the audience was unsurprised by the "twist". There's a supernatural Children of the Corn angle, as the demon of the mine is shown swallowing some souls in dodgy CGI.

When they escape the the first peril, and you're thinking "Well, maybe this movie will go for being short..." there's a whole cultist angle. This is set up in the beginning, so it's not a surprise, but it's totally a shift in movie tone and feels very slapped on. As if there weren't enough pages in the script so they ended the one movie and started a new one.

It just doesn't hang together. A lot of things don't really follow one-to-the-next. The camcorder thing is completely dropped. (Why have it at all?) The thing in the mine seems to have no autonomy and yet no clearly defined purpose for the townspeople. And on and on. Kill Theory was just as clichéd, but hung together far more successfully and interestingly.

Worse, the director misdirects. There aren't really any great shots in the movie; there's one pretty good one where the girls are in the archetypal car-that-won't-start and you can sort of make out the maniac-of-the-moment coming up. That was effectively subtle.

But otherwise, the movie feels mis-cued. With most horror movies, there's a moment where the film transitions from ordinary story to horror story. (Often these movies start with some horror, but then resets to a road trip or buddy flick, or whatever.) Usually when the characters first become aware that they're in a horror movie, by witnessing a murder or other horrific act.

This movie transitions as the girls are walking through a house in the ghost town, and Megan suddenly pins herself up against the wall and tells Abby there's a murder going on outside. Abby thinks she's putting her on. I thought she was putting her on. There was no music—a shame, as the music used in the opening scene was a nice melange of clichés put together effectively—and when the body shows up, it's outside a window, occupying maybe 15% of the screen.

It's not impossible to pull that off. Well, strike that, it might be. This is your first big shock! Contrast with Kill Theory, where they throw the freakin' body through the freakin' window. Clichéd? Sure! But so is the guy fighting for his life slamming up against the window.

It's all been done; the director's job is to do it well. And sell it.

And it happens a lot in this movie that the director's just not there in any kind of close action sequence. Probably half-a-dozen times, I turned to The Boy to ask him what had happened. (He mostly didn't know either.) At one point, for example, Abby tackles a baddie, and they both drop off the bottom of the screen.

Now, things going out of frame is a common low-budget tactic, and a perfectly valid one. But Abby looks like she weighs less than a hundred pounds and we don't see what happens to the baddie for several minutes (apparently he says something like "Ow! My face!" but I didn't hear that) and even having seen it, it's hard to figure exactly how it happened.

But this happened a lot, like the director wasn't really comfortable with action shots.

Another bad choice was—well, okay, the smell from the mine is supposed to drive the girls crazy at two points in the movie, and that was just silly. And a little bit (unintentionally) sexy. I mean, they're snarling and snapping, but it's not clear what's keeping them from actually biting. I'm all for restraint when using effects, but with no help at all, the two girls just looked kinda hot. Heh.

Then, approaching the film's climax, there was a bunch of exposition which had the unfortunate effect of slowing everything down while failing to illuminate anything. It was all kinda "Duh".

Yeah, I mostly blame the director here. On the plus side, it's his first feature and while I think nobody should ever make some of these mistakes, a lot may simply be knowing what to emphasize given severe budgetary constraints.

And, as bad as it is, I'd still rank it above most of last year's movies, on the strength of the Megan/Abby relationship. Last years' movies were inept in a variety of ways but on top of that features casts of dismal representations of humanity. While Grant and Murphy are among the actors who end up looking silly from time to time, they had good chemistry and could do well with a little more help from Pulido and Ronalds.

This is really apparent when veteran Bill Moseley is on-screen. Moseley (late of HBO's "Carnivalé") is great, even when his lines aren't, and the girls also get better when they're interacting.

Overall, though, hard to recommend, except for Grant and Murphy fans.

Fun side-note: The movie's hulking menace of a blacksmith, Shane Smith, sat two rows directly in front of me. He's about my height and probably weight, too, though he has a wider frame. The rest of the cast was around after, and were all pretty much teeny.

Fun side-note 2: The movie's casting director was Nina Axelrod, star of Maelstrom house-favorite Motel Hell, among other '80s horror goodies. I've noticed her (casting) work in the past, too, and it was cool to see her name come up here.

This Is The Title Of A Post Attempting To Start A Blog War

This sentence presents the author of a post on another blog as a jackass. This sentence is a litany of his various past sins, stupid ideas and random odd mistakes, barely masking the fact that I just plain don't like the guy, regardless of what particular position he's staking out.

This sentence is the beginning of a fisking:

This sentence contains the thesis of the blog post, a trite and obvious statement cast as a dazzling and controversial insight.

This sentence points out that the trite and obvious statement is trite and obvious, and typical of (my narrow summation) of the the post author's point-of-view.

This sentence claims that there are many people who do not agree with the thesis of the blog post as expressed in the previous sentence. This sentence speculates as to the mental and ethical character of the people mentioned in the previous sentence.

This sentence elicits the readers of my blog to mock this, as they are exactly the sort of people who disagree with the author's thesis.

This sentence invites readers to respond freely and without constraint as long as those responses fall within certain parameters. This sentence consists of an Internet in-joke that doesn’t quite fit the topic.

This sentence mocks the blog's commentors as humorless prigs of subnormal intelligence. This sentence invites my commentors to visit the authors blog and troll the comment section.

Last Night I Dreamed

Last night I dreamed
That I won a Grammy
It was presented to me
By Debbie Harry

I ran up on stage in my tux
I gulped and I said, "Aw, shucks."
"I'd like to thank my producer,
and Jesus Christ."

The audience gave me
A standing ovation
I shed tears of joy
I shed tears of elation

Behind the podium there
Debbie grabbed my derriere
And I'd like to thank my producer
And Jesus Christ.

I took my Grammy, and Debbie
And I walked off stage
We made the cover of Cashbox
And the Random Notes Page

In the weeks that followed
Things went fine for me
An Oscar, a Tony, and an Emmy

Bo Derek and Barbara Mandrell
Meryl Streep and Tammy Terell
A Pulitzer and a Nobel
Five gold and one bronze as well

And I'd like to thank my producer
And Jesus Christ.

(Congratulations to Loudon Wainwright III, for finally winning that elusive Grammy.)

Sunday, January 31, 2010

After Dark Horror Fest 4: Kill Theory

On the scale of unpromising horror premises, "college kids trapped in house by maniac" has got to be in the top...one. So, when Kill Theory starts with a maniac being released by a doctor and we cut to a bunch of college kids in a van on a way to the Rich Kid's dad's lake house, I was not optimistic.

All the clichés are here: You got snotty Rich Kid, all around Good Guy, the Fat Dude, the Hyper Guy, and their girlfriends. You got the Level-Headed girl who loves Good Guy, and the kinky Curvy Girl who's hooked up with Rich Kid but pines for lost love, Good Guy. Hyper Dude has the Sweet girlfriend. Fat Dude is, of course, alone, but Slutty Stepsister shows up at the lake house.

There is what seems to be an inordinate time spent on characterization in these opening scenes. This also didn't fill me with hope.

Yet, when the first dead body shows up, not only does the story move in some unexpected ways, a lot of the earlier characterization shows up again as a plot point.

This movie is, sort of, Friday The 13th by way of Saw. You know, in a very real way, the Jigsaw Killer is not far removed from Jason, Freddy or Michael. He's all-powerful in his anticipation of the characters' actions, and his ability to plan for them far in advance, and (more importantly for the movie's purposes) his ability to lock them into a very simple moral dilemma.

The Maniac in this movie is not quite so sophisticated. His traps are simple and secondary.

The main tension is this: Mr. Maniac (Kevin Gage, who could easily do a bunch of sequels to this, a la Tobin Bell) spent three years in an institution because on a mountain climbing expedition, he cut loose three of his friends to save his own skin. (I'm not sure how that's illegal but play along.)

His exceedingly annoying psychiatrist (working actor Don McManus, whom you recognize without being able to name, and who actually manages to be irritating on a Richard-Dreyfuss-in-What-About-Bob? scale) has taken exception to Mr. Maniac's insistence that anyone would do the same thing he did, and in his smug, wanna-punch-him-in-the-face way demands that while Mr. Maniac is no longer a threat to society, he does need more therapy.

Mr. Maniac plans to prove his side of the argument by putting the college kids to the following test: If one of them is left alive in the house at dawn, that person goes free. If more than one is left alive, they all die.

The kids are pretty good actors, though I was really confused at first because I thought they were high school kids. But they looked far too old and they acted like college kids. Then, yeah, it was made clearer later on, but, to be honest they're largely too old for that, too. (It doesn't matter much, but I did notice, and I'm not the most observant in this area. Theo Rossi, whom I've dubbed "Hyper Kid", is 34! He's in good shape for a middle-aged man!)

It's not, I don't think a huge acting challenge, for the most part. There's a lot of low-key stuff. Curvy Girl Ryanne Duzich has a relatively tough part, having to be both sexy and vulnerable and in love and desperate, all in turns. (Also, she's not that curvy but wears what must've been a pretty dang uncomfortable bra the whole time.) Fat Kid Daniel Franzese (30 years old, by the way) has to do a lot of whining and cowering, but manages to be sympathetic all the same.

I'd lay the credit for the success of this movie at the feet of writer Kelly C Palmer, who was in the audience. Within some very narrow constraints, she does a good job of avoiding a lot of the horror movie trope traps. And there's a strong undercurrent about the characters' basic goodness: They don't, for the most part, want anything to do with the Maniac's plan—and willingness to go along comes from some surprising arenas.

The other guy who gets the credit is Chris Moore. Now, this is Moore's first outing as a director, but if you ever watched "Project Greenlight", he was the incredibly nice, remarkably professional producer who made sure that the movies actually got made.

Moore handles this movie really well. Most of the directors picked for "Project Greenlight" were sort of flamboyant. Moore handles this confidently without being flashy. You never think, "Oh, that was clever." The shots tell the story without pulling you out of it. His pacing, along with the humor and twists of the script make this above par.

'course, we get the old "so far out we can't get cell phone reception" gag, along with the phone lines being cut, but Something Must Be Done about the phone thing. Still, recommended.

Saturday, January 30, 2010

After Dark 4: First Thoughts

I pondered last year how long the After Dark Horrorfest could go on, with so few people in the audience. This year, there are a total of four venues in all of California, and the closest one (by a margin of 50 miles) is the dreaded Beverly Center 13, located in that monstrous mall in downtown Beverly Hills.

Actually, the theater itself is not bad. But having to navigate the streets is not great.

We planned to split the movies up in to four days this year, a plan I think The Boy favored given how bad the movies were last year. But he was in the mood to go Friday, so we went to the 10PM showing of Kill Theory.

About ten people in the whole theater, until some members of the crew came in.

Got a bad feeling about After Dark 5. Good news, though: Kill Theory did not suck.

White Ribbon: A German Children's Story

Generally speaking, if a foreign language film gets much play in the US, it's going to be pretty good. We are monoglots with extreme prejudice. (I don't find this a condemnation of the USA; we're monoglots because we can be, and any other group with that luxury would take to it just as readily as we do.) It takes a Das Boot or a La Vita E Bella to get our butts in the chair (and even then, a lot of us insist on dubbing).

When I heard that White Ribbons (the title actually translates to The White Ribbon - A German Children's Story but I can see why the distributors didn't want to use that) had won a Globe and was being praised up-and-down, I seized on it as a likely way to break the award-season doldrums. (This year has been particularly uninspired.)

A little hasty on my part, unfortunately. Da Weisse Band was directed by Michael Haeneke, who is a critic's darling and, well, you have to know that he directed one of his movies going in, or you're probably going to be disappointed.

This reminded me heavily of one of his earlier films, Caché, which is about a French couple that's being mysteriously filmed. The films are being sent to them, the (rather despicable) hero runs around tracking down people he's pissed off in the past, and the general level of menace increases until—well, until nothing, really. That's sort of the problem.

You start to engage with the movie as a mystery, as a thriller, but it never goes anywhere. Because it's neither a mystery nor a thriller, it's a metaphor. It's a metaphor for how crappily the French treated the Algerians, something portrayed excellently (and literally) in the contemporary film Indigenes.

This can really piss you off. You're not being entertained, you're being instructed.

Which brings us to White Ribbon.

Same deal. Here we have a story that should be exciting, thrilling, suspenseful and creepy, but it really just comes off as creepy. Any actual excitement or enjoyable aspect is meticulously stripped out. Sort of like an Oliver Stone movie, where if you actually start having a good time, the movie's gonna turn around and slap you for being so shallow.

Believe it or not, I don't mean that to be condemnatory. Some people like going to serious, joyless films. Most of them seem to be art critics. And, honestly, I can do that if I'm aware of it going in. And I did pick up on it soon enough.

The Boy was irritated, though.

Basically, the story is that bad things are happening in this small town in Germany. Some are accidental, but some are very clearly deliberate. As the tale unfolds, we get a closer look at the characters.

The widowed town doctor, is the movie's first victim, when someone strings a wire between two fence posts and trips his horse on his daily ride. We learn that he's a sexual deviate who abuses the midwife who has taken care of him since his wife's demise. (And that he was no better to his dead wife.)

Oh, hell, I can't even bring myself to list the litany of horrible things everyone is doing to everyone else. The narrator and his love interest are at least decent people, but apparently the only decent ones in the village.

It becomes apparent soon enough—like, from the opening scene—that the children are behind all the horrible "accidents". They don't restrict themselves to taking revenge on the bad adults, mind you. They happily do bad things to each other and even babies and, in that crowning glory of storytelling, a Down's Syndrome kid. (Don't you love it when movies feature abuse of the handicapped?)

Of course, we don't see any of this. What we see is the slow, plodding narrator (a schoolteacher) figuring out what's going on. All the action occurs off-screen, and we're left to view the horrible after-effects.

Whee.

OK, I'm not gonna beat the guy up for making an unpleasant movie because that's clearly what he had in mind. Mission accomplished. I am going to beat him up a little because the movie, which takes place on the eve of WWI, is meant to be insightful as to the rise of Nazi-ism.

In that regard, I think it's a wash. I mean, it's a made up story with made up characters, and while I have no doubt that there was plenty of sexual perversion in Germany before the War (as everywhere else), and that they were perhaps indulgent of their children (though my experience says "seen and not heard"), I don't think it makes for an insightful storyline.

But it's really my fault: A bit more research and I would've connected the director with his past works, but I'm not so up on foreign films that I expect to recognize directors.

Anyway, if you're into flat, nasty, long stories of decadence, this is your movie.

So, What About That iPad?

I don't really follow Apple stuff. I've worked on Apples from time-to-time but the last Apple product I owned was the Apple ][+. (First computer I ever owned. Learned programming on it.)

Back then, I, of course, favored Woz of the two Steves. The engineer over the sales guy. The guy who had built the machine, not the guy who had sold it. And some of the other Steve's failures seemed to vindicate that viewpoint. (Though, even though the NeXT was never very successful it did show Jobs' dedication to making a quality product.)

But clearly, I underestimated the guy. He was the CEO of my beloved Pixar, and now is a major player at Disney. And he brought Apple back from the almost-dead.

However, the two most interesting things he's done, to me, are the iPod and the iPhone. Both products were introduced into a seemingly saturated market. They were both, from a technical standpoint, not all that impressive, at least on paper. They were both relatively expensive.

And both ended up dominating their markets. The iPod, factually, with something like 3 out of 4 all music players being iPods. I'm not a gadget guy, don't have any real interest in an MP3 player, but do find the iPod sort of pleasing despite that.

The iPhone "only" has 30% of the phone market. But it dominates the mindspace. It's the iPhone, largely, that has contributed to this idea that the computer of the future will be a phone. (This makes a whole lot of sense, and has been semi-predicted in many ways over the years. I always figured a computer that you carried with you, but that hooked up to available screens and keyboard/mouse set ups, would be ideal in many ways.) I don't really need a fancy phone (or, truth be told, any cell phone) but I might get an iPhone for development purposes.

So, all the noise about the iPad is amusing. People's hopes were incredibly high—one of the hazards of being so amazingly successful. Will it be successful? I don't know. The iPod was very clearly an MP3 player and the iPhone a phone. I'm not sure what the iPad is, really. An eReader? Well, it could be successful, then, depending on how books get to it—where's the iBooks store?

Also intriguing to me is that one of its main flaws being cited is that it doesn't support Flash.

From a developer's standpoint, I've seen this sort of battle play out many times. Back in the '80s, a machine had to support DOS. Microsoft worked very hard to make sure that there was a lack of confidence in any non-Microsoft solution (even though there were many better ones). In the '90s, the battle was over running Windows programs—again with MS doing every dirty trick in the book to break competitors both at the low end (with DOS) and at the high end (with OS/2).

That's why MS destroyed Netscape and then essentially abandoned the Internet. Their purpose wasn't to try to compete on the Internet so much as it was to make the Internet non-competitive with Windows. (Many advances were made to allow programs on the Internet more like desktop applications, but since they weren't supported by the dominant browser—Internet Explorer 6—things stalled until Netscape reincarnated as Firefox. This is why Google has Chrome, too; they have no desire to see MS dominate browsing again.)

But the de facto winner in all this is Flash, which is now pretty clearly "The Platform". iPhone apps may be great, but people want their Flash games. MS (finally) responded with Silverlight which may, eventually, overtake Flash—but which also doesn't run on the iPad.

However, Silverlight's very existence suggests that Microsoft realizes that it's lost the mobile OS war, and Windows CE, while not technically dead, isn't going to secure their monopoly.

Nobody cares if the iPad runs Windows.

Thursday, January 21, 2010

A Single (Gay) Man

We should be flush with Oscar-bait movies and I guess we are, but they seem to lack a certain majesty. Or even modicum of interest. I suppose Avatar will sweep, since it combines the right politics with big budget and big success. (I will see it. Eventually. I guess.)

We haven't been able to muster up the interest in seeing The Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus so The Boy opted for the other seemingly, potentially, might-be-good A Single Man. We didn't know much about it other than being the story of a widower trying to get through his day.

Being the sort of heteronormative guy that I am, and seeing Julianne Moore on the poster, I jumped to the conclusion that his wife had died. But no, it was his partner. His young, male partner.

While Cartman may not be correct that indie movies are all about "gay cowboys eating pudding"—an observation made years before Brokeback Mountain—there was a time about five years ago where it seemed like every indie movie had to have a subplot with a gay character.

Now, not so much. And it's preferable to have a main gay character if that's the story you want to tell. So, props there, even if minus a few points for the stealth ad campaign.

Expectations were not exactly high. This is a movie about a guy moping. Part The Constant Gardener (without the massively stupid drug plot), part Hamlet's soliloquy, you've got about 100 minutes of "to be or not to be, for a broken heart".

Colin Firth plays a college professor (looked like UCLA) in 1962 who's lost his partner of 17 years (they met during post-WWII celebrations). Eight months has passed and he's still racked with grief, and as when we meet him, he's making preparations for his own demise.

Well, gay or not, it's not exactly an exciting story. And it's rather indulgent, like Constant Gardener, but it comes in well under 2 hours which means that you only get a little tired of the slow-mo and flashes of imagery. It also wasn't as oppressively bleak as you might think, either.

There seemed to be a modern sensibility imposed on the story from time-to-time, but nothing too heavy-handed to me.

Strengths: Performances by Colin Firth and Julianne Moore as the woman who loves him; A lush score by Pole Abel Korzeniowski, who also scored the moody Tickling Leo; confident direction; not overlong.

There were some weaknesses, too. It's a very static film; the main character is hung up between living and dying. You can't get much more static than that. But The Boy was particularly insightful and loquacious.

He said the problem wasn't that the main character was gay, but that was all he was. We didn't learn anything about him except that he was gay. No hobbies. Nothin'.

Well, yeah. Good point, kid.

Truth be told, if I'd known it was about a gay man, I probably wouldn't have gone to see it. As well as directors, certain themes are particularly overrated (to my mind) relative to others. Alcoholism and drug addiction, homosexuality or sexual deviance, anti-American, etc. Not to say these movies can't be good, or that this one isn't good, just that it tends to result in inflated evaluations.

Where would I put it? It's...okay. The ending is such an "art movie" cliché, it reminded me of all these horror movies where everyone dies. And somehow, it comes off not as pretentious as it seems like it ought to. It's often touching and of course very intimate.

But as The Boy points out, it doesn't do the leg-work as far as characterization goes to build the sentiment properly.

Now I can see there being an exception, if you're a 50-60+ year old gay man. You might really be able to relate in a way that needs no further detail.

That's another one of those niche markets.

Saturday, January 16, 2010

Today Is Not That Day, Part 8: Weird Science

You know, the sort of cowardly stupidity (combined with awesome arrogance) described here is pretty run-of-the-mill in today's schools.

The part that won't get mentioned much, if at all, is that the principal was apparently so astounded by the 11-year-old's science project—so baffled, so dazzled, so stunned—that he thought not only was bomb a reasonable interpretation of a motion detector but also, having cleared up his confusion after much expense and hysteria, that counseling was a reasonable suggestion for the child and his family.

Being a bureaucrat, of course, means that it's never your shortcomings that cause these problems. It's not that you're too stupid to have a basic grasp on not just electronics but human nature and current events (quick, name the number of times an eleven-year-old has blown up his school!), nor even that you should handle such a situation to delicately cover-up your ignorance.

No, take it to the mattresses every single time and insist that anyone who makes you feel uncomfortable with your ignorance is probably psychologically disturbed.

TINTD.

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Sherlock Holmes and the EXXXTREME Mysteryish Thing!

I miss mattes. There, I said it.

I remember seeing The Wizard of Oz and the matte of the Emerald City that Dorothy and her pals were dancing toward. I loved that matte. It was quite evident they were going to dance their way into a wall if they kept on, but the very principle was elegant storytelling, to me.

"This is the setting. We have painted it for you on plywood. We've done an excellent job, and we're going to throw it away after the shoot. Enjoy."

I loved the matte used in When Worlds Collide, too. The oncoming Alpha and Bronson Beta painted multiple times larger and larger and super-imposed over the foreground—sheer menace.

There's some great matte work in the 1979 Dracula by the master, Albert Whitlock, who did a lot with Hitch, the disaster movies of the '70s, and even the '80s-era Dune. The guy was genius with

Mattes used to be such a big deal, the Universal Studios tour—back when it was more tour and less amusement park—actually began with a display of a matte. I think it was of San Francisco. Gorgeous.

Mattes aren't used much any more. Instead, everything is 3D computer generated cityscapes. As a result, everything looks like freakin' Hogwarts. Mordor. Gotham. Fake. Comic-booky.

"But Blake," you say, "mattes were, like, the fake-est looking fake things evar!" Well, yeah, maybe the early ones, but I think they were simple and communicated clearly. The obsession over "fake" and "natural" is a dumb one. It's all fake.

But this CGI stuff isn't supposed to look fake. And CGI smoke, dust and fog particularly does to me. There's a scene in this movie where some mooring comes loose and smashes through the scenery. And whatever it smashes through leaves a kind of dusty haze. The same dusty haze you saw when the troll broke through the door in Mordor, or when the Quidditch ball breaks through some bleacher supports. Fake.

Why am I talking about mattes in a review of Sherlock Holmes? I guess because the computerized cityscape, with its computerized fog and smoke, looked fake to me. Also, mattes have about as much to do with this movie as this movie has to do with to Arthur Conan Doyle's stories.

Anyway, assuming you're not as big a dork as I—and, let's be honest, who is?—you're probably interested in other parts of the new Sherlock Holmes movie than set design and related special effects. And fortunately, the other parts are better.

Robert Downey Jr. plays the master detective this time. He looks not at all Holmesian, but that's okay, he's a good enough actor. Jude Law plays Watson, and I think that's one way the new version excels compared to most older ones. Nigel Bruce, who paired with Basil Rathbone in the classic '30s-'40s movies, tended to be a bit more bumbling, more comic relief, than the character in the stories, who was both tough and handsome.

The Boy really nails it, when he says if you're expecting an action-adventure movie, it's pretty good.

And it is. It's fun. It moves, mostly, with just a little bit of drag in the 2nd to 3rd act transition. And it's basically a buddy movie, with an aggressively modern sensibility applied to a stuffy old late Victorian tableau.

Director (and Madonna survivor) Guy Ritchie applies a mishmash of modern tropes to Holmes observational skills, making him somewhat reminiscient of TV characters like Adrian Monk or even Shawn Spencer of "Psych". Casual. A bit slovenly.

I found it didn't really fit with my idea of the character. Not that Holmes wasn't eccentric, but my memory of him is that of a gentleman without land. An aristocrat without money. A man who had used his skills to act as he felt a lordly person should, even though he didn't have the means.

But, okay. I wasn't expecting Basil Rathbone.

There is a sort of mystery here, though the whole thing is greatly informed by The Illusionist and The Prestige. There's the question of is it, or isn't it, supernatural, but you can't really have genuine supernatural elements in a Holmes story. The more the movie tries to convince you that it is supernatural, the more likely the final reveal is going to have a "Scooby Doo" feel to it.

But then, this isn't your momma's Holmes, or her momma's, or her momma's. So maybe they would ghost it up.

Not that you really care by the time Holmes explains everything at the end. It's an action movie. It's not like you're brooding over the meaning of the drop of blood on the transom nor the petals strewn mysteriously on the ledge.

Look, I did like it. But parts of it sort of irritated me, like the non-mattes, I guess because it didn't hang together for me in little ways. London didn't look quite right. Rachel MacAdams didn't seem quite English enough. Downy and MacAdams didn't seem to have any real chemistry. Hans Zimmer's score seemed a little clunky.

Also, it more than teases the sequel, which strikes me as a little presumptuous.

But these are minor irritations which may have drawn me out more than most viewers, due to my own prejudices rather than any real flaws in the movie. Like The Boy says, go in expecting a light action-adventure flick, and you'll have yourself a good time.

Monday, January 11, 2010

Alvin and the Chipmunks: The Cashing In

There are things you just have to do as a parent. You don't have to enjoy them, you just have to do them.

Seeing a sequel to Alvin and the Chipmunks is one of them. I tried, mind you. The original movie's rated about a 6 on IMDB, with the sequel at just under 3, so it's nearly half as good as the original, right? (That was more for The Boy, admittedly.)

The highly lauded Princess and the Frog was playing at the same time, for example. But, as The Flower explained, the Princess is a frog practically the whole movie. And who wants to see a movie about frogs?

Chipmunks, on the other hand, are apparently God's gift to celluloid.

So, let me start by saying The Flower was pleased. No regrets. Thought it was a fine movie.

Me? Well, I survived. Racked up a few Daddy points. It was only physically painful a couple of times—as when the Chipmunks did the Bee Gees. (I'm not exaggerating: The frequency and volume did actually hurt my ears, which I have not sufficiently impaired through the blasting of rock music.)

And it's nice to see that Betty Thomas is still working. She was great on "Hill Street Blues". And as a director, I thought some of her '90s movies were cute (The Brady Bunch Movie, Private Parts, The Late Shift). Sort of interestingly, The Flower was also obsessed with seeing Thomas' previous feature John Tucker Must Die. (She didn't like it, though. If I'd remembered, I would've tried that, too.)

The original A&TC was not without its charm. Jason Lee is pretty good at being both irascible and paternal as Dave. (He's barely in the sequel.) Cameron Richardson was cute 'n' perky as the cute 'n' perky love interest. (She's not in the sequel at all.) David Cross is, of course, excellent at being the sleazy record company executive. (He's back, at least.)

And you had a simple plot: Chipmunk singing group makes it big in the city, learns family values. In the (ugh) "squeakuel", you've got more plot than any 80 minute movie oughtta have. (This movie has a whole lot of plot gettin' in the way of the story, as Joe Bob Briggs would say.)

You've got loser Toby (Zachary Levi, Chuck of "Chuck") taking care of the Chipmunks. You've got the chipmunks going to school. You got Alvin trying to fit in with the cool kids (even though the girls adore the Chipmunks who are both rock stars and cuddly little mammals). You've got the stern principal (Wendy Malick) who's trying to save the school music program. You've got Alvin and Simon fighting while Theodore longs for family values.

This all taking from the presumably main plot of evil David Cross having three new singing Chipmunks almost literally dropped in his lap, and trying to use them to both destroy the old Chipmunks and restore his lost musical producer career.

Also, of course, these are girl chipmunks ("The Chipettes") who are perfect analogs for the boys and act as their biggest fans, love interests and foils. Fun fact: Janice Karman, who created the Chipettes and receives a credit for this in the movie, was the daughter-in-law of Ross Bagdasarian Sr., who created the Chipmunks. She also voiced all of the Chipettes in the TV series where they originally appeared.

We're going for the $200M box office here, though, so we get hot properties Christina Applegate, Amy Pohler and Anna Faris doing the girls.

And, hell, they're going to get pretty close to $200M, so who am I to complain? (Oh, right, the guy who paid $20 to see this!) And, really, if you lower the bar on your expectations—I mean, way low, here, lower than the original—the time will pass reasonably quickly, if rather frantically.

But The Flower liked it, and so did some of her friends who saw it, and in the long view, it's not any worse than Dungeons and Dragons, which I took the boy to see.

Sunday, January 10, 2010

So, How Radical Are You?

I was watching Stossel's new Fox Business Channel show ("Stossel!"), and he had on the Whole Foods guy to talk about health care. This is a great plan: You can get anything on this plan. (And snake oil is expensive. I thought I should try to find a job with these guys.) Stossel had a good mix in the audience, and a communistsocialistprogressive to attack any ideas that didn't involve the government taking over the most intimate of choices we make.

As a sidebar, the progressive version is such an easily repeated lie, it reminds me of—well, of every other progressive lie I've been swamped with in my life. "Single-payer is the only way to get universal coverage." As if the government's first move isn't going to be to make that coverage a lot less universal to save costs. As if "medical treatment" had no metric of quality, just so long as everyone gets some.

Anyway, the lefty guy didn't have anything in the way of substance—not his fault, there really isn't a good case to be made, especially in light of the universal failures of the schemes at home and abroad—and so he accused the two of them of being Grover Norquist acolytes.

I, and both Stossel and Whole Foods guy John Mackey (and I hope most people) regarded this ad hominem with bemusement. The progressive wanted to equate their distaste for a state-run health system to a desire to destroy Social Security, Medicare, roads, apple pie and motherhood.

I don't really know who Norquist is. He seems to want to cut government in half, which is something I'm cool with. He then wants to cut it in half again. I'm pretty sure I'll be cool with that, too. He's anti-FDA, NEA and IRS. These strike me as good things to be against.

Anyway, the reason I bring it up is that Ruth Anne commented in the Cargo Cult thread:

Could you clarify this? My husbands thinks it means you want to legalize drugs. I don't disagree about the bad effects of the 'War on Poverty' and the probable bad effects of the 'War on Health'...

In short: Yes. I'd phrase it differently. I'd like to see a whole class of laws simply go away. The same power that allows the government to regulate drugs also allows it to threaten vitamins and other supplements.

I used to believe that the Democrats were the party of civil liberties. After listening throughout the '80s to the damage done to civil liberties by the War on Drugs, I could not help but notice the hypocrisy of not repealing it in the '90s. In fact, as soon as a Democrat was in charge, it was like the gross expansion of government powers was a feature, not a bug.

Needless to say, I wasn't any more surprised that the Democrats didn't curb the Patriot Act in 2009 than I was that the Republicans didn't curb spending.

What am I getting at? Well, the scourge of drugs is a problem; probably one of the worst we face today. (I'm so anti-drug, I extend this to a great many prescription drugs. See the latest reports on how anti-depressants are largely less effective than placebos.) It's right up there with—well, with a massive, intrusive, all-consuming government.

Let me tell you, if I had to choose between our current monstrous government or a country without drug abuse, I would probably take the latter. (Maybe partly because I think the stupidity of drug abuse feeds into the stupidity of big government. But still.) But that's not the choice.

Our monstrous government is particularly inept at social engineering. There have been successful wars on drugs in the past. They were won by rounding up all the suspected drug dealers and killing them. That's not something we can do, even if we wanted to.

So, if I want the government out of drugs—and sex, and health, and safety—does that mean I want a country full of drugs (and diseased helmet-free whores)?

Shockingly, no.

And this is sort of a problem. We used to have a church and society that enforced relatively homogeneous ideas of normalcy, decency, morality and other things that do the actual work of holding society together.

The whole question of what to do about that is a whole 'nother post at least. But it's also actually tangential to the question of government control. Because the War on Drugs hasn't appreciably reduced the amount of drug use, as far as I can tell. And government has a particular talent for both undermining traditional morality and destroying civil liberties in a draconian and semi-random manner.

So, yeah, in short, if you have a question about whether I think the government—particularly the federal government—should be involved in, well, just about anything, my answer's probably going to be no.

Movie Review: Invictus

The Boy was particularly eager to see the latest Clint Eastwood movie, Invictus. I had some reservations about it myself. I remember all the anti-apartheid protests of the '80s, which were all focused on divesting. While I got the potential power of the statement, I questioned the practical effect of success. (Withdrawing all the investment money from a country would hardly be likely to result in a happy ending.)

Anyway, South Africa-based apartheid stories have always sort of put me off (exception: District 9) but The Boy makes very few direct requests. So off we went.

Verdict? Warm, if not exactly enthusiastic applause. Now, on one level, I'm liking these movies better in some ways than the slicker films of his early '70s (Million Dollar Baby, Mystic River) but I can't deny that the unevenness may not have universal appeal. It's a fair call to point out Gran Torino, for example, is corny. I personally loved that, however.

Invictus? Actually cornier. Mostly in a good Capra-esque way, but a few of the pop songs do demand your attention, and they're a bit heavy. The score is generally an interesting mish-mash, with a jazzy '70s-ish track characteristic of Eastwood movies going back to Play Misty For Me, and a couple of tracks that are reminiscent of the marvelous Thomas Newman. (Eastwood veteran Michael Stevens also worked on the score, so I don't know who's who as far as the music goes.)

I mention the music I suppose because the story itself is—well, in an earlier era, I'd call it inevitably corny. These days, the inverse is true: A story like this would almost demand to be a tale of venality and corruption in order to be taken seriously at all.

But, hey, it's Eastwood. He's 79, and with five-and-a-half decades of showbiz experience in the bank, he's gonna do whatever he damn well pleases.

So, it's corny. This is the story of the persecuted man who ends up in charge of a country deeply divided by an ancient historical animus. But rather than strike back at his former tormentors, he seeks to mend the country's problems by soliciting a celebrity member of the former ruling class to unite everyone.

You see? The main characters are all good. There's no villain, except human frailty.

It basically works, though. Morgan Freeman's Mandela is the acting polar opposite of Langella's towering Nixon. Freeman almost disappears, portraying Mandela as a very humble, even ordinary guy. You end up thinking "Of course this is the right thing to do. Any decent person—and certainly a great leader—would know that."

And then you get depressed because even this level of basic competence and humanity exists in a vanishingly small percentage of politicians worldwide.

But it was a good way to go; you end up venerating Mandela without wallowing in martyrdom, and the story ends up being a nice, light one, with a strong, serious undercurrent that doesn't obscure the message of hope.

So, occasionally, the music makes you aware of the corniness which otherwise is similarly pleasant, as it was in Gran Torino.

The story, if you don't know it, involves Mandela's solicitation of rugby star Francois Pienaar, and Mandela's exhortation for the rather desultory South African rugby team to win the World Cup, a contest they clearly have no business winning.

It seems that rugby is a white man's sport—the team has only one black player—and the South African blacks (more invested in soccer) traditionally voted against the nation's team, which still uses the old flag and prefers the old anthem.

So Mandela's task is to inspire the team, unite the country behind them, and ultimately invest the country in the team's winning. The movie doesn't at all suggest that this is his main task as leader, and the other characters react with astonishment at his own level of interest. Ultimately, Eastwood's juxtaposition of the "sports movie" with more serious dramatic genres is what raises it a cut above.

The acting is fine, though some die-hard rugby fans chafe at the notion of Matt Damon playing the considerably bulkier Pienaar, but he looked pretty bulky to me. It's not a role with a wide dramatic range, but Damon's actually pretty good at becoming this kind of stoic, rugged character. He's a good second banana.

Still, it's primarily Freeman's movie, with various characters reflecting off of him. Where his talent particularly comes through is that he manages to do this without hogging the screen. The others get their space.

So, we liked it, even if it didn't knock our socks off. I wouldn't recommend it, however, if you're looking for a more sports-action movie (like a Hoosiers or a Victory); the actual rugby scenes aren't that many, and they're kind of hard to follow (unless maybe you're well versed in rugby already, maybe).

I only mention this because my mom found it a little "talky". But she loved Victory.

Saturday, January 2, 2010

Up, Up In the Air (san beautiful balloons)

Jason Reitman (son of iconic comedy director Ivan Reitman) is probably one of the most promising young directors around, having directed the darkly comic Thank You For Smoking as his feature debut, and following that up with the comically dark Juno.

So, while waiting for the lights to go down on his latest, Up In The Air, I had to wonder: Would it be comic? Would it be dark? What would the ratio of comic to dark be?

As it turns out, way more on the dark, not so much on the comic.

The story is about ruthlessly shallow Ryan Bingham, whose job it is to fly around the country firing people. The company he works for acts as a (very) short-term Human Resources department which has as its sole function the removal of employees in as painless and low-key manner possible. Bingham is glib, and so thoroughly disconnected from humanity that he actually prefers being in the air 320 days out of the year, and loathes the few days he has at home.

Played aptly by George Cloony and oh, my God! what did he do to his face? I wish I were kidding when I say that. I spent about 30% of the movie trying to figure out whether he'd been botoxed or lifted or what. And that's a shame since this is the kind of role he was made for.

Anyway, Bingham is flying around the country firing people when he gets called home by his boss (Bit Maelstrom favorite Jason Bateman). Seems that the latest addition to the firm, firm young Natalie Keener (Twilight's Anna Kendrick) has successfully promoted the idea of firing-by-webcam.

Cue existential crisis as Bingham must contemplate the notion of not flying all around the country. This plays out as Bingham flies Keener around the country to get some real hands-on experience firing people.

So. Yeah. Seeing people get fired for a good half-hour may not be exactly what the doctor called for in this economic climate. (Seriously, anyone looking for a veteran computer programmer/movie geek?) There's a buttload of acting, though, and we actually do gain a little respect for Bingham; there is some technique to what he does.

The other tension in the story comes from love interest Alex, played by the sexy Vera Farmiga (of this year’s Orphan and last year's Oscar bait Boy In The Striped Pajamas). Alex shares Bingham's love of the perks of travel, including the niceties that ultra-frequent travelers enjoy. As Bingham's work situation comes to a head, he also finds himself reconnecting with his sisters (about whom we know nothing till late in the film).

Can Bingham use this old connection to hel phim find happiness with a chick he picked up in an airport bar?

It's a well-made movie, with strong characters and believable settings, yet I wouldn't recommend it broadly. It's hard to explain why without some spoilers so let me just say that beyond the firings, while the movie's not exactly bleak, it's not exactly a pick-me-up either. (More dark than comic, like I said.)

Great little performances from J.K. Simmons, Bateman (of course), and Sam Elliott (who I swear is reprising his role as "The Stranger" from The Big Lebowski).

The Boy thought it was okay, but he expected more humor. This is the umpteenth movie we've seen this year that was made out to be funny in the commercials, but turned out to have a much more dramatic edge in the theater. (Adventureland, Duplicity, Observe and Report, Sunshine Cleaning, Management, just to name a few off the top of my head, all were advertised as being wackier comedies when they all had a fairly serious dramatic edge.)

A little more truth in advertising would be nice.

Cross-posted at Ace of Spades HQ.

Phrases That Should Never Begin Movie Synopses, Part VII: Piling It On!

Passengers (Sophia Loren, Richard Harris, Ava Gardner) are trapped with a terrorist and a plague on a Eropean train heading for a condemned wooden bridge.

Saturday, December 26, 2009

The Blind Side

When you see as many movies as I do, you learn to avoid entire categories, either because you don't like them or because you're just flat out tired of 'em. For example, I skipped last year's "The Class" and "The History Boys", just because I'm tired of the whole Blackboard Jungle thing.

Even when I like a movie, if I'm acutely aware of the formula, it can be hard to really get into it. (I liked "The Last Samurai" but I couldn't keep from thinking "Oh, look, a white guy's gonna show the Japanese how to be better Japanese.")

Rarely, however, you end up missing something that approaches a well-worn storyline in a refreshing way, as I almost did with the new Great Expectations-ish The Blind Side.

In this movie, Michael Oher, a ginormous black orphan who has lucked into a place in a fancy Christian private school, ends up being adopted by Leigh Ann Tuohy (a MILFed-up Sandra Bullock). Over the next two hours, they change each others' lives.

You can understand my dread. "Based on a true story!" even.

In what constitutes a Thanksgiving miracle—yeah, it's been out for a while—this actually works. Why?

Well, first of all, the characters are well-defined and interesting, the story is lively with lots of barriers impeding the characters' desires, the dialogue is funny and touching, and the resolution is satisfying. It all sounds so easy when you put it that way. But really, there are a ton of pitfalls t this kind of movie, and the movie avoids almost all of them neatly.

For example, there's a tendency (to put it mildly) in a movie like this to wallow in racism. There is racism in this film, but it goes both ways and mostly comes across as one of many forms of xenophobia. There's no temptation to make it the central point of the film.

This can lead to the related pitfall of viewing the world as a unrelentingly cruel place where selfishness is the sole motivator, and the righteous protagonists are the only beacon of hope, sacrificing all in the process. Now, the Tuohys are definitely good folk, but there's no real hardship for them. It's not about them "sacrificing"; the movie shows a convincing case that (as said in the movie's most wince-worthy moment) Michael is changing their lives.

Their "sacrifices" are shown in contrast to what their charge has endured, but rather through their understanding of those things, instead of through graphic flashbacks. Really, the only serious discussion about whether they should be doing what they're doing revolves around their kids. And even then, it's not like there's a question that they should help.

It's kind of refreshing. And it feels true, too, in the characters' reactions to what is, essentially, Leigh Ann's rather powerful sense of responsibility.

The tertiary characters are a rich assortment. There's a lot of naked self-interest. There's some altruism. There's a veneer of altruism masking healthy doses of self-interest. At the same time, the movie doesn't try to portray self-interest as evil. It comes across as natural: There is an "I"; there is also an "us" (as in our team or family). In other words, it seems very realistic.

This movie avoids The biggest pitfall of all—mawkishness. This is charmingly reflected in Leigh Ann's tendency to leave the room rather than have anyone see her get emotional. But the whole film does that: It shows us the projects, the poverty, the bureaucracy, the politics, the opulence, the desperation, the kindness, the bravery—all without the high melodrama or glib politics these sorts of movies are prey to. It allows you to feel what you'll feel from the circumstances, not from having characters overact.

I can't say I viewed it entirely apolitically. The Tuohys are Republican. So Republican, apparently, they don't know any Democrats. But this is more of a cute point, only significant because I can't recall any film ever where the main characters are both kind, generous and explicitly Republican. The real (political) thought that occurred to me, as I was watching this poor kid wander around The Projects was, "Gosh, everyone wants to go to public school and live in public housing! Why wouldn't they be crazy about public health care?"

So, yeah, I brought my own snark. The movie doesn't address the issue at all. (Which is fitting, I think.)

Anyway, the Boy (my 14-year-old movie companion) enjoyed it quite a bit. I attribute that to the lack of gross sentimentality and the general liveliness of the whole movie.

Anyway, if you're like me and you've been waffling on seeing it, give it a shot: There's a reason it's still playing. And stay for the closing credits to see pictures of the real Tuohys with Michael Oher.


(Previously posted at Ace of Spades HQ.)

Conversations From The Living Room, Part 26: Why I Hate "Go Diego Go"

Me: "Old McDonald had a farm."
Me & The Barb: "Ee-Eye-Ee-Eye-Oh!"
Me: "And on this farm he had a ..."
The Barb: "..."
Me: "..."
The Barb: "Leatherback Sea Turtle."