Stop Frame

A Tale of Two Trailers

2011-11-14T20:09:00.000-08:00

‘Tis the season and here come the trailers for next year. First up...

I want to see this film. Right. Now. While I find it unbelievable that Charlize Theron would ever feel threatened by Kristen Stewart in the looks department, I am comforted by two facts: First, presumably if the spell breaks then Theron’s evil Queen would become very ugly, very quickly. Second, the Magic Mirror doesn’t say that Stewart’s Snow White is more beautiful, he says that she will surpass the Queen. In this context, that word becomes heavy with meaning, begging the question, “Surpass in what way?”

And then they showed Stewart as warrior woman and I felt mildly ill. I am so sick of that trope. Theron doesn't dress up in battle armor and I haven't a doubt in the world that she could kick Stewart's ass. Stewart puts on all the armor and I'm not even convinced that she'd be able to move, let alone fight.

Putting that aside, the film looks gorgeous. Seriously, someone appears to have rediscovered the tripod and is at least trying to compose their shots. And the way Theron speaks as the Queen is sheer ecstasy. Even the way she says, “Mirror, mirror” is foreboding. The rest of the cast looks great, and I can’t wait to see the dwarves.

And then there’s...

I enjoyed the books, I think Jennifer Lawrence looks too perfect for words. I’ve said before that her performance in Winter’s Bone was training for this role, because I always pictured District 12 looking like backwoods Missouri and Arkansas, or even Kentucky (can we all say, “Harlan County USA”?). I’m not as taken with the rest of the cast, and while I’ve seen lots of raves for Lenny Cravitz as Cinna, I’m not convinced. I’m more forgiving of Woody Harrelson as Haymitch, and I am so not a Woody Harrelson fan.

The snippets of dialogue are the stuff of awful, awful legend.

There's also the look of the film. There’s a jiggle of the camera that makes me think shaky cam will be the order of the day, as though they’re going for that pseudo-documentary look that seldom, if ever, works. Shots are held just a tad too close; even the wide shots seem confined. The set and production designs scream "generic sci-fi." Granted that a swashbuckling fantasy gives the designers a bit more leeway, but Snow White and the Huntman kicks The Hunger Games around the block.

I desperately wanted to see a nicely composed and framed shot of Elizabeth Banks as Effie Trinket, looking out at the expectant faces of District 12, and pronouncing those dreaded and, in context, dreadful words: “May the odds be ever in your favor.” That would have been a chilling moment that could sell the film.

Was not meant to be, though. In the end, I want to see Snow White because of Theron as the Evil Queen. And I want to see The Hunger Games because I want to see Lawrence’s portrayal of Katniss Everdeen. Either will make or break their film.

BD/DVD: X-Men & Thor

2011-09-16T21:59:00.001-07:00

Let’s start with X-Men: First Class:

Short version: Great film; buy it, watch it, love it.

The story takes place in the early 1960’s, around the time (and events) of the Cuban missile crisis. The film follows the young and ambulatory Charles Xavier (James McAvoy) meeting and befriending the young and angry Eric Lehnscherr (Michael Fassbender). The man who will become Professor X hasn’t lost his hair or the use of the legs yet, and the man who will become Magneto isn’t quite yet a villain, though he is one very, very angry individual.

First and foremost, this is a film about friendship, and that makes it wonderful. Xavier wants to find and train mutants in the use of their powers and how to blend with human society. Lehnscherr, scarred both from a childhood spent in Nazi concentration camps and time spent with Sebastian Shaw (Kevin Bacon) is less tolerant of humans but equally fascinated to find others like himself.

Watching McAvoy and Fassbender play off each other is a joy. Surprisingly, and pleasantly so, McAvoy doesn’t play Xavier as all clean and good and wonderful; he’s a bit of prick, truth be told. And Fassbender is staggeringly good as Lehnscherr. Indeed, the film succeeds in large measure due to the humanity Fassbender brings to the role as he portrays Lehnscherr’s journey from mutant to Magneto.

Really, I can’t say enough wonderful things about Fassbender’s work here. I’ve enjoyed him in pretty much every film I’ve ever seen him in, but his performance here even transcends the work of the great and powerful Ian McKellen (Magneto in three earlier X-Men films) and that’s no small feat.

For me, a good superhero film lives or dies on the quality of its villains. While Lehnscherr doesn’t start out as the film’s villain, you know that when he assumes his Magneto guise he’s going to be. Fassbender nails this perfectly, and in so doing elevates the entire film.

He’s helped immensely by Kevin Bacon’s Sebastian Shaw character, the villain for most of the film. Maybe it’s true, that Bacon can do no wrong; it’s certainly true here. Great villain, very well played.

There are other mutants in the film, but really, so what? All of the actors do decent work, nothing exceptional and nothing on the same level as Fassbender, Bacon, and McAvoy. This might sound like damning through faint praise; it’s not meant to be. (Well, maybe for January Jones as Emma Frost; her performance is stiff and a lost opportunity.) It’s just that they felt like filler material for the main characters to play off. As such, they do their job well.

There are a few cameos, made excellent by how they’re used. My favorite is Rebecca Romjin; don’t blink, you might miss her.

X-Men: First Class is a film that I didn’t want to see end. With an incredibly tight schedule and fast turnaround time, Matthew Vaughn has crafted a masterpiece of a superhero film. He has also made the film accessible even to those who aren’t fans of the comics and earlier films. First Class can easily stand on its own, no prior knowledge needed by the viewer.

And then there’s Thor:

This film represents what is, without a doubt, the most audacious move Marvel Studios has made in their series of superhero films. Up until now, all have struggled to remain grounded in some semblance of reality. Tony Stark is a billionaire genius who has the brains and the funding to create Iron Man. Bruce Banner is the unfortunate victim of science run amuck and thus becomes the Hulk. World War II era science manages to turn a puny runt into Captain America.

All, to one degree or another, attempt to say, “Hey, this could happen. Look, inventive humans plus money equals Science!”

Thor steps beyond this and into the realm of gods from outer space. In ancient times, an alien race known as the Frost Giants attempts to invade Norway (God knows why), but benevolent beings from Asgard intercede on the behalf of mankind and work a smackdown on the frosties. Humans look at them and create the Norse gods of legend. Behold Clarke’s Law in action: Any science sufficiently advanced will appear as magic to the less advanced.

So is this leap into outer space any good? Yes, quite. Kenneth Branagh was a curious choice for director and he does an excellent job. Not surprisingly, he brings a certain Shakespearean tone to the proceedings, eagerly and confidently working with daddy and honor issues in grand style. The result is almost operatic.

Chris Hemsworth does a great job as Thor. Who knew that Kirk’s dad could portray the Norse god of thunder? As a bonus he also has some great comic timing, not just in delivering humorous lines but in terms of physical comedy. He also does a great job delivering some lines that might otherwise have been clunkers, like addressing the omnipresent Agent Coulson as “Son of Coul.” It’s a quick moment that easily could have fallen flat, yet Hemsworth pulls it off.

Equally up to the task, and in following with my rule that these films live and die with the quality of their villain, is Tom Hiddleston as Loki. Excellent performance, complete with more nuance than you’d expect.

Not everything is perfect, though. The film sags in the middle and some of the design choices are way over the top. Some costumes work, others...meh. Asgard has awesome aspects (e.g., it’s a flat world) and awful aspects (e.g., is that pan flute thing a castle?). Most shocking, though, is that Anthony Hopkins, as Odin, is dull. I didn’t think it was was possible for Hopkins to be dull in anything, and yet...

Bottom line: Worth seeing, worth owning. As with all Marvel films, be sure to watch through the end of the credits. This time we get a hint as to who the villain will be in next year’s The Avengers. Actually, more than a hint, and one that leads nicely into the teaser at the end of Captain America.

Coming Soon: The Hunger Games

2011-08-29T21:04:00.000-07:00

I enjoyed the books, even if the very end left me a little cold. And I was thrilled with the casting of Jennifer Lawrence after I saw what she could do in Winter's Bone. But this teaser...meh, at best. Though it is cool hearing those four notes at the end, presumably Rue's the end of the day call.

May the odds be ever in your favor, indeed.

Harry Potter & The Deathly Hallows, Part 2

2011-07-22T23:23:00.001-07:00

Seven novels, dozens of actors, hundreds of production personnel, 400 million book printings, millions of dollars spent, billions of dollars earned, we have reached the end of the Harry Potter line. The Hogwart’s Express is retired, the cast may finally move on with their careers.
And at the end of the day, the strongest emotion I feel is: Meh.

Reviewing a Potter film was always problematical, and became even more so as the series ground on. The first two films don’t even feel a part of the same galaxy as the next six, and the third is such a stand-out excellent production it feels as though it came from another universe.

The fourth is almost as good, but starting with the fifth the series fully committed to the goal of telling one enormous story. At the same time, it became increasingly clear that if you weren’t a Harry Potter reader than these are not the films you are looking for. If you had not read any of the Potter books, you could watch The Sorcerer’s Stone (the first film) and The Prisoner of Azkaban (the third film) and follow their stories nicely. For all of the others, you need a guide and interpreter, and the demand for such only increased as the series went along.

In large part, this is the result of J.K. Rowling’s legendary and fanatical control over her intellectual property. When the film series began, the book series was still being written and she did not share with the film producers where the story was ultimately going. Presumably this worked in the books (which I haven’t read) because she could leave little fore-shadowing details, but those same fore-shadowing details are completely absent in the films. The result is that the action on screen must periodically grind to a halt while an expository lump ensues.

Examples abound in TDH 7.2, none of which I can discuss without huge spoilers. Ditto my reasons for why the end product just felt…flat. I’m not alone in this. I’ve discussed the matter with my resident Potter experts, those who have read, absorbed, and adore the books, and they all agree. The entire film is a let-down after seven films of build up. Its most egregious failing is that throughout the film, its heroes fail to feel heroic.

It’s beautifully filmed; I would have preferred that Azkaban have been the style template, but the choices made here aren’t bad. I wish Azkaban could have been the template for other things, such as ensuring a feel that this is, after all, a magical world.

The music is deathly hollow and dull, though, inexplicably so given Alexandre Desplat’s other work (Birth and Lust, Caution come to mind). Some of the editing is off-putting in subtle ways, the timing of things not quite sitting right. There are scenes that should have held massive emotional heft, given what was happening to whom, and yet they aren’t given a fraction of the screen time they deserved.

Maggie Smith, though, is finally allowed to come into her own, and Alan Rickman simply shines. (He hasn’t been this much a part of the plot since, you guessed it, Azkaban.) Indeed, all of the acting is well done, with these two just being the stand-outs.

As many have said, the film is essentially one massive, rolling firefight, but so was Black Hawk Down, and in that film there was more emotional wallop than I felt at the end of this one. Which is a pity.

I reject the presumption that the book is always better than the film. I present Jaws and The Godfather as exhibits A and B, wherein the film is vastly superior to the book. And aesthetics and debate over “art” aside, there’s no excuse for requiring a viewer to have read the book in order to understand what’s going on in the film; if that’s required then you’re just being a lazy filmmaker.

Given that, the books are now done and this film series has wrapped, so I wonder if some day someone will take up the massive task of filming them again. Maybe as a seven year television series, with each season only being as long as needed to tell one given book. So the first season, being from the shortest book, would need the fewest episodes, while tomes like The Deathly Hallows, would need a full 24-26 episode arc. BBC Productions revels in this sort of thing (see Torchwood as proof).

Maybe then Harry will get the cinematic love he’s earned and deserves, and we’ll get the full story we paid for, as well as an ending that’s far better than “meh.”

Update: It would appear that the Potter fan base generally agrees, as the box office is tracking a staggering 84% drop, comparing weekend one to weekend two.

DVD: From the Earth to the Moon

2011-07-12T20:49:00.001-07:00

By now, if you recognize that title, you’re probably going, “Gee, that’s timely.” Considering that the miniseries aired in 1998 and has been available on DVD for the better part of a decade, you’d be right. I beg forgiveness, however, because it only recently became available at a price I could afford. Also, its subject matter seems timely given changes at NASA and the US space program, i.e., bye-bye shuttle, hello...er, what replacement?

From the Earth to the Moon is a 12-part miniseries that aired on HBO. It received widespread critical acclaim at the time and holds up remarkably well. It does so because it tells a direct and accurate history, while at the same time restraining its use of visual effects. The result is a compelling, historically-accurate, and very human drama.

The miniseries essentially bridges the gap between the films The Right Stuff and Apollo 13, while also adding an addendum to bring the Moon program to its conclusion with the flight of Apollo 17. Each episode is, to a large extent, a self-contained story. While certain characters will run through other episodes, each story being told is its own entity. So, the series starts with “Can We Do This?”, a simple question posed by President John Kennedy’s call to put an American on the Moon by the end of the 1960’s. This episode simply recaps a few of the obstacles the Moon program would face, how they could be tackled one by one, and introduces the men who would eventually fly the Apollo spacecraft.

The show is an emotional treat for me because it recounts the history of my childhood. When I would walk to school in the morning, I could see the headlines of the morning newspaper (the San Francisco Chronicle) give one status check on Mercury or Gemini or Apollo. When I walked home in the afternoon, the headlines of the afternoon paper (the San Francisco Examiner) would give another. Time and again, From the Earth to the Moon had me relieving those brief news snippets, as well as what Walter Cronkite would report that evening. (Interestingly, Cronkite does not appear in the series. Lane Smith portrays Emmett Seaborn, Cronkite’s stand-in.)

More than nostalgia, the series presents the stories of the scientists, researchers, mechanics, engineers, etc., that made the entire endeavor possible. For example, the episode covering the Apollo 1 disaster brought to life the horror felt by those involved, especially the men who designed the capsule that would eventually kill Grissom, White, and Chaffee. It is as uncynical a view as you are likely to find, a straight and direct presentation of people whose lives are destroyed by the failure of a tool they designed and built. It culminates in a fictionalized presentation by Frank Borman to the US Senate committee investigating the disaster, which presents in the clearest possible way that sometimes accidents happen for no other reason than “a failure of imagination.” Everyone knew the risks, everyone new the dangers, but no one could imagine just this type of failure...until it happened.

My favorite episode is a toss-up between “Spider” and “Is That All There Is?”. Spider tells the story of how Grumman designed and built the Lunar Excursion Module, or LEM. I would have never believed that a one-hour story about nothing more than rocket scientists doing what rocket scientists do could be so emotional and absorbing. It’s brilliant.

Also brilliant is “Is That All There Is?”, about the flight of Apollo 12. The crew of Apollo 12 was the most close-knit of any of the Apollo crews, and the episode captures that to perfection. The sheer glee that they all evince during the entire mission is a wonder to behold.

Again and again, the series reaches for brilliance and succeeds. The episode chronicling the geology training the astronauts received is, in and of itself, the perfect argument for manned space flight.

And this is where I begin to get a little depressed, because all of the energy and enthusiasm and exuberance that went into making Apollo possible seems...gone. I watch the new NASA administrator say that one of NASA’s prime missions is to reach out to the Muslim world and I wonder what in the hell does that have to do with the exploration of space. In terms of space exploration, the current administration seems to have all the vision of a blind man, with his head in a sack, locked in a dark closet, down in an unlit basement, at night.

The naysayers, as illustrated by the portrayal of Walter Mondale in the series, have won. Their priorities have taken the lead and achieved...nothing. We have willfully closed our eyes to space and gained, on earth, not a thing. We have fallen backwards, into a deep belief that such things as traveling in space are impossible.

The claim that no single nation, including America, can send men to the Moon, Mars, and beyond is proven wrong by a simple fact: We’ve already done it. Alone. All it takes is the will, driven by a dream and determination. From the Earth to the Moon presents the drive and will that got us there on July 20, 1969.

Do we really want to inspire a new generation of mathematicians and scientists? We could do a lot worse than make elementary school viewing of From the Earth to the Moon mandatory. And then, perhaps inspired by little more than “we did it before, and we can do it again, and we will do it again,” we will return to the stars.

BD/DVD: Winter’s Bone

2011-07-11T19:22:00.001-07:00

I don’t believe this film ever played in my area, and the first time I heard of it was when it popped up with several Oscar nominations, including Best Picture and Best Actress (Jennifer Lawrence). So into my Netflix queue it went, and in Blu-Ray format it arrived, and...

Wow. Winter’s Bone is a tense story about a teenage girl pushed into danger by the acts of her father. Living in the backwoods of Missouri can be challenging enough, but for Ree (Lawrence) things go from hard to bad to worse. The eldest of three children, it’s fallen to her to be both mother and father. Mother because her actual mother has lost her mind, and father because he has simply disappeared.

This last is the drive behind the film’s plot. Ree’s dad was one of the best crystal meth cooks in the area. He was out of bail. To secure his bail, he put his property up as collateral. Now he’s vanished and if he doesn’t show for court he’ll forfeit bail. Which means Ree will lose the house, the property, and have nowhere to take care of mother and brother and sister.

Ree’s desperation to avoid this drives her to ask questions that maybe she shouldn’t, to go places where she’s not wanted, to risk her own life in order to save the lives of her siblings.

Winter’s Bone doesn’t revel in false leads or misleading tricks. Yet at the same time it’s unpredictable and engrossing. If you consider yourself a law-abiding citizen, Winter’s Bone is a small window into a world you might never understand. It is essentially a modern version of bootleggers versus revenuers, in this case meth producers versus the sheriff. Notions of good and bad don’t exist in this world. And while lip service is paid to blood, to family, it’s clear that the business takes priority over all. Antipathy underscores everything.

The film is rife with excellent and moving performances. Jennifer Lawrence should have taken the statuette that Natalie Portman didn’t deserve (because let’s face it, Black Swan was terrible and Portman’s performance was dreadful). Lawrence’s performance as Ree is a revelation and makes me excited to see how she’ll do as Katniss Everdeen in The Hunger Games. (In many ways, Winter’s Bone feels like a training camp for parts of The Hunger Games; it feels like District 12.)

As much as I enjoyed her performance, though, I was taken away by John Hawkes as Teardrop, her uncle. His personal journey is as arduous as hers, maybe more so because he has no illusions as to where it may lead. He reeks of a fatalistic air, accepting his fate without surrendering to it, and this lends him such power and presence. Very well done, indeed.

At any time the film could have gone in any direction, and any of them would have felt right. As such, Winter’s Bone mimics life to perfection. Great film, well worth the effort to see.

Super 8

2011-07-11T18:29:00.001-07:00

Part of the reason I blog at all is to maintain some practice with writing. This hasn’t worked well since by the time I’m done with the work day, I never want to type again. But there’s this old manuscript that wants to finish its digital conversion (from analog Smith-Corona original to digital Word) so that I can revive the 1988 published novel (Derelict, ah I remember it fondly). And then I can polish the new one, and get on with the next one. Kindle, I have stuff coming to Kindle!

In the meanwhile, I’m not sure what to make of Super 8. I know, it’s been out a few weeks already, but I don’t want to write about Transformers: Dark of the Moon because it was just loud and silly, the motion picture equivalent of a decent Fourth of July fireworks display (i.e., all flash, less than zero substance). So I took a moment to catch Super 8 and I’m left with this overall feeling of meh.

It is by no means a bad film, it’s just...lacking.

Super 8 is J.J. Abrams’ homage to Steven Spielberg, specifically Spielberg’s films of the late 1970’s, early 1980’s. As such, it is set in 1979 and tells the tale of Joe Lamb (Joel Courtney) and his band of early teen buddies. This band of buddies are budding filmmakers, filming a zombie epic in their small, Ohio town. During a late-night shoot at a train station, they witness the deliberate derailment of an Air Force freight train. They flee as the military comes sweeping in to secure the area, and thus is the film’s central mystery launched because something seems to have fled the scene of the crash, something not of this earth (cue eerie and suspenseful music cue).

And as the central plot is launched, the film begins to unravel. Not the least of its problems is its utter predictability. If you were to pause the film immediately after the train wreck, and then sketch out the plot points you know about and those you might speculate about, you’d discover you were right and, worse, your guesses as to how all would be handled would be spot on. “Predictable” is such an understatement as applied to this film.

Super 8 is also vaguely nasty and cynical. While it’s trying to be an homage to early Spielberg, it is clearly a product of our times. The film can be directly compared to E.T. and Close Encounters of the Third Kind. From E.T. comes the notion of a young kid encountering an extraterrestrial, and from CE3K comes the more adult contact and the government’s reaction.

Yet, both Spielberg films are utterly devoid of cynicism. Rather, they revel in wonderment (something that livens most Spielberg films). Even when the government is perceived as acting poorly, they do so with honorable intent. They may be blundering and stupid, as in E.T., but their ultimate goal is peaceful contact, to learn and understand rather than be fearful and destroy. They are never evil.

Consider the scene and line in E.T. that makes me gasp and tear-up every time I see it. E.T. is captured and dying, Elliot (Henry Thomas) is dying right along with him, and everyone is afraid of everything. And in that dark moment, Keys (Peter Coyote) tries to reassure Elliot. How? “I’ve been waiting for this moment since I was eleven years old.” This is a moment void of cynicism and deception; it is a moment of connection and honesty.

Super 8 has nothing even close to this. Instead, adults are almost universally stupid, the military is simply evil, the kids are almost universally the good guys, and the alien is just an innocent. Yes, there is a moment near the end where Abrams attempts to make a connection between events in Joe’s life and what’s been happening to the alien. But it is done in such obvious fashion, is so utterly predictable, that its pay off is more “you have got to be kidding me” than “wow.”

The film does have its positive aspects. Joel Courtney is impressive as Joe and Kyle Chandler does his standard excellent bit as Joel’s father, but the stand out is Elle Fanning as one of the band of buddies newest member. Her performance is a stand-out.

The look and feel of the film capture perfectly those early Spielberg films, except for Abrams continued affection for lens flare. Really, J.J., it just sucks. Maybe not as bad as shaky-skaky cam, which this film completely rejects, but damn near. The special effects are good enough, even if the alien looks like a tiny version of Clovie from Cloverfield.

Michael Giacchino’s music deserves a quick comment. Like several other film composers in recent years, Giacchino is coming into his own. One of the things he is truly excellent at is capturing the tone and feel of other era’s and other composers, and doing so in such a way that it feels fresh rather than rehash. Here, he channels Spielberg’s go-to composer, John Williams, and some of the music captures precisely the early wonder that came from Williams, and that Williams himself seems to have lost the ability to recreate. Picasso said that a good artist borrows, while a great artist steals. Giacchino is a great thief on his way to becoming a great artist.

In the end, Super 8 is all set-up with no pay-off. All the first act effort goes precisely nowhere. And because of that, as an homage it’s a failure. Spielberg films always had a superb pay-off, be it as spectacular as an alien mothership lifting into the heavens, or as simple as the face of a little boy watching as his alien friend heads home. Comparatively speaking, Abrams hasn’t even found Spielberg’s shadow.

Green Lantern

2011-06-20T21:44:00.001-07:00

My intent was to post a brief review after precisely one year of silence. If I had been able to keep to that schedule, I could have made a nice, happy review of the BD/DVD release of Battle: Los Angles. Instead, I missed that “deadline” and now I’m stuck commenting on Green Lantern.

If it were merely bad, it would be one thing, but the reality is that Green Lantern is awful. It is awful in that calculated and deliberate way that makes one suspect that everyone involved knew it was awful and conspired to ensure its awfulness. Really, this is a bad film.

I don’t recall ever reading Green Lantern as a child. I knew such a superhero existed, but the concept didn’t capture my imagination, not in the same way that Nick Fury, Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. did. Nonetheless, I love a good to great superhero film. Loved Chris Reeve’s Superman; loved the first two Sam Raimi Spider-Man films; loved Watchmen; adore The Dark Knight; etc.

So Green Lantern stood a chance. Alas...

Green Lantern tells the tale of how test pilot Hal Jordon (Ryan Reynolds) becomes, er, Green Lantern. Launched by an egregious data dump of an opening narrative, we meet the descendants of Talos IV, er, the Guardians, who declare that they are the defenders of the Universe and have established the Green Lantern Corps. Each member of the corps is given a green lantern ring which wields the green light of the power of will, allowing them to greenly construct anything their green-powered imagination can imagine. (Really, it all sounds exactly like that.)

One of the greatest of the green lantern corps successfully imprisoned Parallax, a being that utilizes the yellow light of fear. But, surprise! With startlingly little effort Parallax escapes from his inescapable prison, hunts down that greatest of the green lantern corps, and smites him mortally.

Really...

This all happens to the tune of that dull opening narration. My eyelids were already beginning to droop. I considered the benefits to a lobotomy.

Our mortally wounded greatest of the green lantern corps is transported to Earth because the ring knows to find a suitable replacement and, voila, it greenily snags Jordon. Jordon, meanwhile, has been fired from being a test pilot that, you know, actually tests aircraft and does what is known in the world of The Right Stuff as “pushing the outside of the envelope.” Alas, in this alternate reality world, that’s frowned upon.

And he has “daddy issues.” I’m going to steal how MovieBob describes this because it’s perfect: The daddy issue is stolen bodily from Top Gun, but is more like Top Gun via Hot Shots.

It’s not just awful, it’s godawful. Worse, once established it is never brought up again. Ever. Even in Hot Shots, the daddy issue is key to resolving the film. Here, it vanishes like a green (or should that be yellow?) puff of diversion, never to be heard from again.

Martin Campbell is a competent director. He rebooted James Bond (with Casino Royale) and deftly handled trying to kick off a Zorro franchise (The Mark of Zorro). What’s clear here, however, is that while he can handle an actual, physical film, one with actual, physical action sequences, he is easily overcome by the morass known as CGI, his talent lost in a swirl of bits and bytes, ones and zeroes.

So much of this film is computer generated that, like Avatar, you wonder why they didn’t just go all the way and make it a full CGI animated feature film, a la Pixar. But then, that would have required them to have a good story and know how to tell it well, a la Pixar. More to the point, if this had been a Pixar film the CGI would have been at least excellent. Instead, its looks to be around a decade behind the production curve. The trailer for Transformers: Dark Side of the Moon looks better.

The production design is dull, the visuals are dull (Oa, the homeworld of the Guardians and the corps, is particularly horrible), the plot plods, all of the characters are dull. (Really, how does an actress named Blake Lively come across so dull?) I think I laughed at one punchline of dialogue, but for the life of me I can’t remember it right now. Nothing in the film stands out as memorable except how awful it is.

Ultimately, therefore, Green Lantern is not just awful, it commits the ultimate film sin of being boring. Avatar is an awful film, but it’s not completely boring (preachy, but not a total bore). Wanted is an awful film, but it’s not boring and because it so wildly revels in its insanity, God forgive me, I love it.

Bottom line: Avoid this film. Instead, go see X-men: First Class, a film that is vastly superior in every conceivable way.

DVD: Daybreakers

2010-06-16T18:15:00.001-07:00

Daybreakers is, in turn, a fascinating vampire universe, a more mundane vampire film, and ultimately an utter mess of a vampire flick. Which is too bad, because it could have been an utterly awesome vampire film.

Of late, the vampire has been treated pretty shabbily. They’re becoming emo pansies, rather than the bad-ass blood-thirsty (literally) killers that they truly are. Most will blame the Twilight books and films, and maybe they’re right. Wherever it began, however, it’s become an epidemic. The results are well-chronicled in an article over an io9, “I demand better vampires.”

Daybreakers might have been the film to fill that demand. It could even have been the setup for the vampire TV series. Its possibilities were endless, and maybe still are.

The film takes place in the near future. For reasons not fully explained, though hinted at during the opening title sequence, most of the world’s population have become vampires. The few remaining humans are either kept in special farms, slowly drained of their blood, or are in hiding. The vampires, of course, are hunting the ones in hiding to add them to the ones who are in the farms.

With quick economy, the film gives us a tour of a world transformed. These vampires don’t sparkled in the sunlight, they burst into flame and disintegrate. During the day, everyone must remain indoors. Thus, “normal” working hours are at night, and most sleep by day. There’s an industry in sealing up homes, cars, and even providing an underground “subwalk” for moving about during the day.

There’s a beautiful darkness to the vampire world the filmmakers have created. It’s not the standard feeling of night that you see in most films, there’s a difference to how things are lit, how people act. It’s an accrual of little things, from the obvious such as blood being served in coffee, the way vampire eyes gleam in the dark, and the subtle, such as the enclosed “sky bridges” that link skyscrapers or how everyone smokes because, hey, vampires are immortal. All in all, I thought it was wonderful, and one of the reasons the film begins to damn well.

Alas, it can’t follow through from its brilliant beginnings. Ethan Hawke plays a vampire researching a blood substitute. It doesn’t take advanced statistical evidence to determine that with vampires outnumbering humans by a significant margin (less than 5% remain human) there isn’t enough blood to go around. Thus, a blood substitute becomes the only way the vampire species will survive.

Hawke is a classic, angst-ridden vampire. He hates drinking human blood, despite the fact that his failure to do so will cause him to degenerate into a “subsider,” a mindless creature that only knows to feed. And feed. And feed some more. He also hates to see what is being done to humans, with the added complication that his brother is in the military and one of its best human-hunters.

All of this is wonderful. I didn’t even mind the standard left-leaning tropes about scarcity of resources and the evils of capitalism. I didn’t mind because they were well done and are actually integral to the story being told. I never felt lectured or talked down to; I bought into the setup and things flowed naturally from there.

No, Daybreakers starts to go astray when we meet the humans, led by Willem Defoe, who are working on a cure. Not that working on a cure is a bad idea, it’s just that here the film starts to go off the rails. That wonderful vampire world, with everyone living in the dark, comes out into the daylight, and the “rules” involving vampires start to become arbitrary. Vampires can come out in the day, as long as they stay in shadows and aren’t in direct sunlight. Huh? How does that work?

Then there’s the matter of crossbows and wooden arrows. These substitute for wooden stakes. They can wound vampires; apparently only a heart-shot will kill the vampire (actually makes them explode in a fireball). In a night-time battle with vampires, humans apparently have night vision because they are scoring heart-shots right and left while shooting blindly into the dark.

The silliness and inconsistencies begin to mount and your head starts to hurt. It becomes grotesque, literally a blood bath, by the film’s end, concluding on a singularly awful note. All of the film’s promise is not just lost, it’s squandered.

Daybreakers suffers from its filmmakers inability to follow through on their setup. It feels like two or three films jammed together and none of them are given proper attention.

By the awful ending, we’re left with a setup for a sequel which will probably never get made. Which is actually a good thing, because I want to linger on the setup, on a world turned upside-down, where vampires – real honest to keep-me-out-of-the-sun-I’ll-rip-your-throat-out vampires – rule the world.

If we’re lucky, some cable network will scoop this up, reset it to that beginning, and we’ll have the basis of a great vampire series. If that happens, all the glitter wimps had better start running.

A Brief Lesson In Why California is Economically Dysfunctional

2010-05-13T18:59:00.001-07:00

State budget woes grow deeper as rosy projections come up short

Washington hasn't come to the rescue. Hopes for a tax windfall were dashed last month.

As the reality of a $20 billion deficit sets in, California leaders are bracing for another summer of difficult state budget talks.

Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger will kick off serious budget discussions Friday with his May budget revision.

(Emphasis mine.)

The California state budget process looks something like this:

By January 10 of every year, the Governor presents his state budget to the Legislature (California Constitution Article 4 Section 12(a)).
The Legislature hashes at it.
By mid-May, the Governor submits his May revise, the “revise” taking into account changes in the economy, shifting spending priorities, etc.
The Legislature resumes chewing.
The Legislature must pass the budget bill by June 15 (California Constitution Article 4 Section 12(c)(3)).
El Guv has certain line item veto authority, but in general he either approves or rejects. Generally, they sign.
The budget goes into effect July 1.

All of that is in the state constitution. This timeline is a mystery to no one.

Except the state Legislature and the Sacramento Bee, that is.

The May revise isn’t supposed to “kick off” serious discussions, it’s supposed to be part of the on-going discussions. “Serious discussions” aren’t supposed to begin in the summer, they should have been going on all spring. Summer is when the budget goes into effect.

Instead, the Governor is telling the Governor of Arizona how to run her state, while the California Legislature is handling vital issues, like deciding who to name a highway after. Starting tomorrow, they may opt to start doing the job they should have started on January 11.

And this is why the California budget is a cesspool.

Here endeth the lesson.

Iron Man 2

2010-05-12T19:03:00.001-07:00

The question on everyone's mind: Is Iron Man 2 as good as Iron Man?

For myself the answer is no, it's not as good, it's better. That's my pure gut reaction and subject to change after I've seen it again (and again). It's not a fair comparison at the moment because I've seen Iron Man more than a few times, and enjoy it each and every time.

Nonetheless, there's a certain something to the sequel. Generally in the pattern of superhero films, the first film tells the tale of how our hero became super. The second film is about the period of adjustment, how our superhero is adapting to their new role in life. The best examples include Spider Man and Spider Man 2, as well as Batman Begins and The Dark Knight.

In loose fashion, Iron Man 2 hews to that template, but gives it a gentle spin. The significant difference between Iron Man and other superheroes is that he doesn't have a secret identity. Tony Stark has already publicly declared he's Iron Man, so unlike other films there's little time spent on how our hero deals with his new-found dual nature.

What Iron Man 2 substitutes for this is what makes the film work so well for me. Succinctly put, what's keeping Stark alive is also killing Stark. That wonderful arc reactor in his chest is not-so-slowly poisoning him. And so in Iron Man 2, our superhero is not conflicted between his alter egos, but by his impending death, wondering what legacy he can leave behind and if there's enough time for him to even build a legacy. This leads to, how shall we put this, reckless and erratic behavior.

Legacy is the theme that drives the film, from hero to villain(s), and maybe that's why I liked it more than the first. As with The Dark Knight, Iron Man 2 gives you something to chew on after the theatre lights come up. Or maybe I'm over-thinking a simple superhero film.

Maybe, but this one has great delights. It revels in the "great man" theory of history, it clasps capitalism to its chest and trumpets its wonders, even while illustrating its excesses, and it utterly rejects government as being the Source of All That Is Good. Much has been written about the film's senate hearing but words don't do the tone and texture justice. It's clear that the filmmakers paid particular attention to Howard Hughes experience before a Senate committee and just took that to the next level.

What I enjoyed most about Iron Man 2 is that it feels less plot-driven and more character-driven. The story is more about watching Stark deal with mortality than whether or not Whiplash will succeed in slicing and dicing him. In the first film, it was very much about Stark discovering what's been going on within Stark Industries, and thus seizing control and responsibility. Here, it's about Stark dealing with Stark...and seizing control and responsibility.

In the sense that Stark is battling Stark, Stark himself is the film's true villain, and Robert Downey Jr. plays this confrontation to perfection. Indeed, the film's success rests entirely with Downey. He carries the film in ways unseen by modern man. He is at once cocky and arrogant, yet remarkably vulnerable. Truly only at home with his computers and robots, Downey's Tony Stark is a man desperately trying to find himself before his clock runs out. Even when he's chewing the scenery, Downey is a thing of wonder. It's just a fact, Downey can do no wrong.

The rest of the cast is up to the task, their task being to set the stage for Downey and to give him material to play off. Gwyneth Paltrow does a nice job as the secretary given the reins of a massive corporation; Don Cheadle steps into the shoes of Rhodey so well you find yourself thinking, "Terrance who?"; Samuel Jackson is completely badass as Nick Fury, the most badass agent in the history of everything; Mickey Rourke does an excellent job as the villainous villain, at once evil and remotely sympathetic; and Scarlett Johansson...well, her screen time is preciously minor, but oh my, she should never, ever go back to being a blonde. Never, not ever.

Special kudos for Sam Rockwell, though. It would be easy to toss his character, Justin Hammer, Stark's chief competitor, off as a buffoon, but Rockwell succeeds in imparting nuance to the character almost as well as Downey. Whenever he's accused of something, he goes into instant denial. At first this just seemed business as usual, deny even in the face of overwhelming evidence, but toward the end it becomes pathological, as though Hammer really doesn't understand the difference between right and wrong, that he truly doesn’t believe anything is his fault. How well this works is to Rockwell's credit.

The special effects are well done, if nothing new and exciting. The music is decent, if nothing to write home about. In both regards, this film matches the first. The action sequences are well done; again, we have a director -- Jon Favreau, who also appears in the film -- who rebels against the shakey-cam plague and a film that is the better for it.

In the end, though, I enjoy the sequel better than the original because it paints a fuller picture. Downey’s Tony Stark is a man working against his own flaws; the opposition he faces have their own demons driving them. Yes, there’s all sorts of noises going on, and maybe a tad too many balls are in the air at any given time, but in the end it all wraps up nicely. There are just enough threads left lying around to mean we’re going to get Iron Man 3, and that’s just more of a good thing.

BRD: Avatar

2010-04-23T00:21:00.001-07:00

In one sentence: Remarkably beautiful, incredibly brain dead, and if it were any more touchy feely I would have felt molested.

Now, in a few more sentences: Taking place in 2154, Avatar tells the story of Jake Sully and his journey to Pandora, a moon around a distant solar system. (It’s supposed to be the planet Polyphemus in the Alpha Centauri star system, but I’m darned if I can remember that being in the film.) Sully is there to remote-pilot a cloned alien body, his “avatar” of the title. His publicized mission is to provide security for scientific recons; his covert mission is to infiltrate the natives, learn their weaknesses, and advise military command.

The entire necessity for an avatar is the toxic and hostile nature of Pandora. It is presented as a planet custom-made to eliminate human life. Animals will kill you on sight, and if they fail the atmosphere will do the job, so for goodness sake, don’t breathe! More than a few times I found myself wondering whether Harry Harrison should sue for copyright infringement, but I realized that his Deathworld novels aren’t the first, or only, examples of fantastic tales of humans attempting to survive on a lethal world. It’s just that he does a much better job, while delivering almost exactly the same message as Avatar.

Let’s face it, James Cameron sucks as a writer. The original Terminator was apparently a fluke (oh wait, he “borrowed” from Harlan Ellison on that one; eventually paid for it, too). I thought he’d hit his low point with Titanic, but no, here’s Avatar. Titanic survived his writing “skills” because the sheer power of the historical event overwhelmed the mediocre love story, cartoonish villains, and dismal attempts at showing class warfare.

Avatar has no such shield. The Na’vi, Pandora’s natives, are such clichés that if this had been a western, Native American groups would have been protesting in droves. Egads, they whoop and holler in the finest tradition of old school westerns. They snarl, snap, and even hiss. They ride “horses,” shoot arrows, and apologize to any critter they kill – even in self-defense. I laughed out loud more than a few times. It couldn’t have been any worse if Cameron had put them all in blackface rather than blue. They are such a cliché, so flat, I came close to cheering as the first bombs hit. Yes, wipe those smug looks off their kittycat faces!

Only the droppers of said bombs are even worse. Aside from the few scientists, every human on screen is deserving of horrible, agonizing death. Remember Caledon “Cal” Hockley from Cameron’s Titanic, the Snidely Whiplash villain who did everything but twirl his moustache and laugh, “Bwahaha”? He’s the very image of humanity compared to the humans in Avatar. They sneer constantly, as if their expressions are frozen. And how many times do door gunners have to say, “Get some”? It was disturbing and amusing when first seen in Full Metal Jacket, but here its said over and over again. Thank the planet they get et by a nearby dragon. Or two.

Not that the film is without some merit. Peter Benchley once said that Steven Spielberg was the world’s greatest second unit (action) director. While you can debate that about Spielberg, it’s utterly true about Cameron. The action sequences in Avatar are superb. Cameron knows how to block out movements, edit cleanly, and give you a clear presentation of bedlam. He righteously eschews the shaky-cam plague destroying modern cinema. Other directors should take note.

Cameron’s mastery of technology is quite possibly without equal. The result is that Avatar is simply a wonder to look at. I can only imagine how the 3D looked because on a large HDTV via 1080P Blu-Ray, it was a visual feast. It’s easy to see why people kept going back, just to roll around in the trees of Pandora.

In the end, though, it’s pretty lights and flashy effects, all served up for no good purpose. The story is undeserving of such love and care. And for much of the time it doesn’t so much require a willing suspension of disbelief as a lobotomy, the elimination of thought and reason. One simple example: If the “flux vortex” that allows mountains to hover jams weapons tracking and flight instruments, why do radios and avatar signals still get through?

There’s also the matter that we must all chant Na’vi style rather than remember that Cameron himself, in Aliens, gave the humans the solution to recalcitrant natives. Namely: “I say we take off and nuke the site from orbit. It’s the only way to be sure.” I could even imagine someone saying, “Hey, Eywa [Gaea’s Pandoran cousin], catch this one!”

What’s frustrating is that germs of greatness are buried within the film. The entire planet of Pandora is networked. The Na’vi can link to that network. Much like Vulcans and their katras, the Na’vi preserve themselves within the planet. In Star Trek, Vulcan katras are presented with a sense of casual wonder and acceptance. How the Na’vi communicate with all species of Pandora, even the planet itself, could have been presented that way and, by doing so, invoked some sense of awe and wonder. (Of course, then Harrison might have really been able to sue….)

Instead, Avatar is all New Age and touchy-feely and Gaea and “they [humans] killed their mother [the Earth]” and “go back to your dead planet.” The environmental preaching just comes oozing out of the film’s pores, like some smarmy snake oil salesman’s pitch, exchanging awe with nausea.

That $2 billion+ worth of filmgoers worldwide thought differently is disheartening. As uneven as it was, District 9 kicks Avatar all around the block. As ultimately pointless as it was, The Hurt Locker really is the better film (and Up even better), and Kathryn Bigelow the better director – no matter what Sigourney Weaver says about breasts casting the deciding vote.

How to Train Your Dragon

2010-03-26T22:45:00.001-07:00

It was my birthday this past week, and Dreamworks Animation has just delivered this born and bred animation fan a brilliant present called How to Train Your Dragon. A simple story told simply well, it is a joy to behold and I’m straining to say anything vaguely ungood about it.

All right, the supporting cast is rather weak. You’ve met them all before and seen all their antics before (though the one who evaluates dragons in terms of their D&D scores is hilarious). Yes, and so what? Complaining about them is as useful as complaining about the director again using a blue sky during daytime. These are people in the background, given (maybe) a word or two to let you get to know them. So drag out a stock character, let him/her/it scream/speak/bark and voila, the audience understands them immediately.

But enough negativity, on with the oh so very good….

How to Train Your Dragon tells the story of Hiccup, an un-Viking-like boy growing up on an island of rough and tough Vikings. It’s a wonderful island, surrounded by a wonderful sea, populated by wonderful people. It’s a wonderful life.

Which is attacked on a regular basis by wonderful dragons. Er, wonderful to us, the audience. To the Vikings, dragons are a constant threat, a force of nature they are constantly at war with. Other than a few sheep, the impression is that the island’s sole industry is devoted to to this war. Every man, woman, and child learns to fight and kill dragons. All, that is, except Hiccup.

Not that he isn’t trying. He has invented a machine that will let him, scrawny as he is, to take down the most dreaded dragon out there. He does manage to hit the thing, though no one believes him, and in his quest to recovery the body and bring home proof of his success, he discovers things about himself, the dragons, and the very nature of their conflict.

No surprise, but the animation is excellent. The production team brought in acclaimed cinematographer Roger Deakins as a visual consultant. The result, when combined with all the animation expertise on hand, is an animated film that’s “lit” more like a live-action film. As a bonus, it’s filled with stunning visuals. Really, it all brought a tear to my eye. You don’t quite gasp, but you do hold your breath at the wonder of it all.

The 3D is brilliant. Most 3D films want to throw things at you to exaggerate the 3D effect. A notable exception was Up, which used 3D to lend an amazing sense of altitude to the flying sequences. Dragon takes the Up route and goes further. We’re not floating with balloons here, we’re soaring and roaring with dragons, and the flight sequences are incredible. I have read some critics who say it out-does Avatar, which is embarrassing for that film, but having never seen Avatar, I can’t say.

For How to Train Your Dragon, John Powell has composed his finest work. Toothless (Hiccup’s newfound dragon pal) gets his own musical chord, something you almost feel as well as hear, and it gets woven into the rest to create an aural impression that’s just…fantastic. A single example would be the music playing while Hiccup learns to control Toothless in flight. This being flight test, there are problems, and the music takes us right along on the ride. This sequence represents one of several perfect fusions of the animator’s craft, the 3D effect, and Powell’s music. Takes my breath away, it does.

I know, I’m gushing. So be it. I grew up with animation. If I ever called an animated film a cartoon my dad would smack me. The care and craft that goes into making an animated feature is mind-numbingly complex. When you get to see all of that effort pay off as well as it does here, it seems impossible to go over-the-top with praise.

Needless to say, I recommend seeing How to Train Your Dragon as soon as possible, and most definitely in 3D. I certainly plan on seeing it again, preferably in IMAX 3D. I’ll wear a seatbelt.

Coming Soon: TRON Legacy

2010-03-10T22:12:00.001-08:00

Excuse me while I dust things off. Long time no write. Been looking for Brigadoon. So far no luck, but I remain hopeful.

I missed reviewing Sherlock Holmes and Daybreakers. I’ll write more about them when the DVD’s are released, but suffice to say for now that I’ll be buying both.

I still haven’t seen that box office behemoth, Avatar. My sister gave it a glowing testimonial: Absolutely gorgeous, beautifully presenting stupid characters and an even stupider plot. Seems consistent with most every review and/or comment I’ve heard or read. Except for those few who are so over-the-top in love with it they remind me of WALL-E fanboys. When I see it on DVD I’ll no doubt be told that it’ll suck because “you must experience it!” Well, sorry, but isn’t that a left-handed way of saying the story sucks?

Can’t argue with $2+ billion at the box office, though.

I could probably write about Tim Burton’s Alice in Wonderland, but it’s not worth caring about. That it’s raked in so much at the box office may provide proof that the apocalypse is upon us. At least Avatar has superb visuals. Alice…naw. The only stand-out in the entire affair is watching Anne Hathaway as the White Queen. She’s incredibly ethereal. I’m beginning to believe Hathaway can play anything.

The real joy in seeing Alice in Wonderland in 3D is getting to see the first teaser for TRON Legacy in 3D. Can I get an “amen” here? Is anyone else going O.M.G.?

This little teaser just sets things up beautifully. How cool is it that once Sam gets (presumably) digitized the first image we see of the computer world is a Recognizer? What was a simple geometric construct in TRON here becomes something to behold. The series of cuts, brief glimpses of the computer world, of the overall feel of the film, are just so well done. I even reveled in the Daft Punk music, and there will be more to come as they are scoring the film.

Sons chasing after dads is not a favorite plot device of mine, but this one might be an exception. Mostly this is because Sam is a grown adult. He also rides a Ducati. This cannot be a bad thing. It’s also a simple way of setting up how well he can (apparently) ride a light cycle.

(And on a motorcycle note, they actually used the sound of Ducati, arguably the most gorgeous exhaust note in all motorcycledom, unlike times in the Matrix films. Bravo!)

This is the best film teaser I’ve seen in a long time. I am completely jazzed about what’s been done here with the world of TRON. If the story is half-decent, this will at least be a fun ride.

Now I have two films to look forward to this year, this and Kick Ass. Can I get another “Amen!”?

Avatar, the Trailer

2009-10-28T20:15:00.001-07:00

Slashfilm has the new international trailer for James Cameron’s Avatar. Still looks meh, but now complete with horrific, cliche-ridden dialogue in a trailer that seems give roughly 90% of the story away. Hasn’t this sort of story been done to death already?

I hope I’m wrong. I always want a film to knock me out of my socks, whether in subtle or explosive ways. I’ve noticed that Cameron’s best films have music by Brad Fidel, while his very good films are scored by James Horner, and his crap is scored by someone else.

Well, this one is scored by James Horner, so maybe there’s reason to hope.

Recalling Naomi Wolf’s 10 Step Program…

2009-10-28T16:06:00.001-07:00

For no particular reason, I found myself reminded of Naomi Wolf’s article Fascist America, in 10 easy steps. The 10 steps?

Invoke a terrifying internal and external enemy.
Create a gulag.
Develop a thug caste.
Set up an internal surveillance system.
Harass citizens’ groups.
Engage in arbitrary detention and release.
Target key individuals.
Control the press.
Dissent equals treason.
Suspend the rule of law.

While she was speaking specifically of the Bush administration, she did make clear:

History shows that any leader, of any party, will be tempted to maintain emergency powers after the crisis has passed. With the gutting of traditional checks and balances, we are no less endangered by a President Hillary than by a President Giuliani - because any executive will be tempted to enforce his or her will through edict rather than the arduous, uncertain process of democratic negotiation and compromise.

She names Hillary and Giuliani because the article predates the rise of Obama, but I can’t help but wonder if she still sees these steps taking place under the Obama administration. After all, many of the worries she expressed still exist under Obama, and are not under immediate (or any) consideration of being changed or revoked, e.g. Gitmo, FISA, The USA Patriot Act, etc.

I can, if I squint just right, fill in Obama events under most, if not all, of the ten steps. It’s a thought exercise, though, because while she may be correct in saying that every tyrant in history has taken these steps, it does not follow that taking these steps leads to tyranny. For evidence, consider the actions of FDR before and during World War II.

I also believe the United States is stronger than she gives it credit for. As proof, I present retired President Bush…and the 42 that preceded him.

Buell, RIP

2009-10-17T20:26:00.001-07:00

Harley-Davidson is shutting down its Buell Motorcycles division. Not selling it, not letting it spin off as its own entity. They are killing it.

Silly wabbits.

Rather than re-inventing the wheel, or re-stating the facts and arguments, I defer to Hell for Leather:

Cutting through the [excrement of the male bovine], it seems you can boil Harley's plan down to this: cut costs by streamlining production and lowering output, thereby alleviating dealers of stock they can't sell, then hope that the loans carry the company through to a projected return of middle-class solvency and credit availability.

All this sounds startlingly similar to the business practices that got Harley into so much trouble in the first place. It'll continue to rely on the same demographic buying the same motorcycles and, since a large proportion of those customers don't have enough money to buy either the bikes or the accessories, it'll continue to give loans to people that can't afford to repay them. It'll make those loans using money that it has, in turn, borrowed, often at a higher interest rate than what's being charged to customers. The company has presented no short-term plans to pursue the design of motorcycles with appeal outside its existing customer base and is therefore hoping the customers of other brands change their preference rather than finding new ways to appeal to new customers. As Boomers age beyond their riding years and see their purchasing power massively reduced by the end of cheap credit, Harley is failing to understand either the need or the means to reach a younger or wider audience. Relying on the market for motorcycles to return to its pre-recession levels without taking active steps to see it do so seems a remarkably naive way to do business. Harley is now effectively a passive passenger riding the economy's roller coaster. If the economy goes up, a lot, it might be OK. If the economy goes down or remains stagnant, it may find itself unable to repay that $1.9 billion and be forced to seek protection from its creditors.

Harley has a product line that may be charitably described as “stagnant;” the same may be said of their approach to customers.

Yes, last year’s renovation of the touring line was excellent. Yes, the V-Rod is wrapped around a fantastic motor. And, yes, the XR1200R simply rocks. (Well, not any more this year, since they’ve suspended Sportster production for the rest of the year.)

By and large, though, Harley cranks out the same motorcycles every year. For year after year, the grand change is…New Paint!

For many, this is awesome. Owning a Harley feels like owning a piece of history.

For new customers, though, it’s a bore.

Everybody wants to blame the current economic climate for their company failures, but Harley suffers more from a failure of imagination. Buell was a taste of something different than business as usual at Harley, and Harley executives killed it without even a clear idea how much, if any, money this will save them.

Honest, I hope they have a plan, something they don’t want to discuss. I’m afraid they’ll be like Cylons, though, and have a plan…until suddenly they don’t.

At last, a hint of sanity…from the French

2009-09-30T22:24:00.001-07:00

Oh my…

French drop Polanski release call

The French government has dropped its public support for Roman Polanski, saying the 76-year-old director “is neither above nor beneath the law”.

[…]

Speaking to reporters, French government spokesman Luc Chatel said: "We have a judicial procedure under way, for a serious affair, the rape of a minor, on which the American and Swiss legal systems are doing their job."

[…]

[T]he Polish Prime Minister Donald Tusk has distanced himself from the move by asking his ministers to show "greater restraint" in defending him.

He added that despite a "leading Polish director" being involved, it is still a "case of rape and of punishment for having sex with a child".

A member of the British parliament has called on the Council of Europe, of which he is also a member, to support Polanski's extradition to the US.

Denis MacShane said the film-maker "should be held accountable" for his actions.

Both the French and Polish foreign ministers had original protested Polanski’s arrest in Switzerland and demanded his release. Now, both countries have gone about face, and bravo for them.

And note the contrast in language. Over a hundred members of the film community have signed a petition calling for Polanski’s release. This is how they summarize the central issue:

His arrest follows an American arrest warrant dating from 1978 against the filmmaker, in a case of morals.

Emphasis mine, because, for crying out loud, they’ve reduced felony sexual misconduct with a minor down to “a case of morals.” How amoral do you have to be to pervert language and distort facts in such a way?

Contrast that with how the French describe the matter: “a serious affair, the rape of a minor.” Or the Poles: a “case of rape and of punishment with having sex with a child.”

Morally clear and to the point, a concise statement of the central fact of the case.

There’s also a subtext here I find interesting. Polanski fled to France, where he was and is a citizen, because he knew that the French would never extradite him back to the United States. And, of course, they didn’t. Under French law, they couldn’t.

But now that he’s out of France and in Swiss custody, they publically state “the American and Swiss legal systems are doing their job.” It’s almost as if they’re glad to be rid of him, of the notoriety of being forced to shield a child rapist.

Maybe France isn’t such a bad place after all.

Roman Polanski, your cell is calling….

2009-09-28T20:24:00.001-07:00

Look, I’m as conservative as they come. Does that make me right-wing? Fine, have a nice time with the label. But here and now, let’s be clear: Roman Polanski is not a right-left issue. The defense coming from the “art world” in general isn’t an expression of left-wing, or even liberal, values, it’s an expression of depravity.

Am I being too subtle?

Roman Polanski was charged with multiple felonies, all stemming from having sex with a 13-year-old girl. Will you please read that again? 13. The age of consent in California, since the early 1900’s, has been and is 18. Polanski, at the time, was in his 40’s. Any sexual conduct between him and her would be a felony. The age gap aggravates the offense, compounding the possible sentencing. If Polanski had been 18 at the time, it would have been bad enough, but 43…?

Now, add the alcohol and Quaaludes that he introduced into the mix, shake well with both vaginal and anal intercourse, and voila, the crime.

Polanski was charged but reached a plea deal, reducing everything down to a single count of unlawful sex with a minor. When you cop a plea, you have concluded both the trial and conviction phase of the process. All that remains is sentencing, following by possible appeals.

In California, when you enter a plea, the judge very carefully warns you that he is not, by any stretch of the imagination, bound by any promises made by either the prosecution or the defense. He is free to impose what sentence he sees fit for the crime you are pleading guilty to.

This is never shocking news, it’s stated clearly in court when you enter your plea. Your understanding is a requirement for the plea to be accepted by the court. If you say, “Huh, really?” then the plea is null and void and you’re back to getting ready for trial.

Apparently Polanski didn’t like this and he skipped the country.

So let’s review: Plead guilty, was facing sentencing (potentially very stiff), ran away instead. Understand that; Polanski was effectively tried and convicted of unlawful sex with a minor. That’s the result of a plea. That’s not an issue.

If this were anyone else – right, left, white, black, Roman Catholic priest, whatever – there wouldn’t be an issue. Even the French would be screaming, “Hang heeem!” But, zoot alours, he is the great artiste, we must forgive his desire to stick his penis in the anus of little girls.

No. No, we do not.

The basic concept is covered succinctly by Hollywood itself, spoken with concise precision by Baretta (oh so ironically played by Robert Blake): If you can’t do the time, don’t do the crime.

Polanski did the crime, he’s due to do the time. He can now, as he could have done then, appeal any sentence handed down by the court. In California, he could even have been freed on bail pending appeal (unlike Federal court, where you go to prison pending appeal).

Instead, he ran, and he, along with his league of cheerful, amoral apologists, seeks to dictate the terms of his case. Doesn’t work that way. Come into court, Mr. Polanski, and that means, “Welcome back to California!”

(For a reasonably complete history of the case, go here. It tends to give too much credence to a recent documentary, though, so I also recommend this as a counter-point.)

We pause now for a minor rant…

2009-09-10T16:45:00.001-07:00

“My car has a flat tire.”

“You should buy a new car.”

Every time I hear President Obama and other Democrats talking about “health care reform,” that’s what the conversation sounds like. A health care crisis is declared and the only solution is to replace the entire system. At most, around 15% of the American population is without health care insurance. Ignoring the fact that for most of them, this is a matter of choice, it also means that 85% are insured. And of that 85%, something like 70+% like their current coverage and don’t want the government to touch it.

So for the vast majority, the current system works and works great. Yet, because of the minority for whom it allegedly does not...toss it all, start again.

Admittedly, regardless of insurance coverage, it all costs too much, but again, the only accepted approach to controlling costs are to throw out everything and turn it all over to the government. Tactics that are proposed to address specific cost issues are not considered.

One of the biggest is tort reform. So what is tort reform? Since we’re talking about out of control costs, let’s look at some out of control costs.

Just so we understand some basics, in simplest terms, a tort is a civil wrong for which the government will recognize a civil remedy.

When all is said and done, for the most part the only civil remedy the state can provide is monetary, i.e., you suffer a loss, the party at fault pays you.

That payment breaks down into two parts: Compensatory, which are your actual monetary losses, e.g., loss salary. And punitive, which are additional payments meant to discourage the conduct that result in a tort, e.g., punishment.

Tort reform seldom, if ever, discusses changing compensatory damages. Those damages are, for the most part, black and white. Rather, tort reform almost always revolves around punitive damages.

Some true life examples of why:

A man buys a new BMW. He discovers that while it was being transported to the dealer, it suffered some paint damage. The dealer’s body shop repainted the car and the dealer sold it as new. The man sues, and rightfully so since the dealer never told him about the damage and repair. The jury finds that the compensatory damage was around $5,000, the cost of the paint job...and awards the man $5 million punitive damages.

In another case, a man starts smoking after the surgeon general’s warning. That means that every pack of cigarettes he’s ever bought and consumed has worn a label saying that smoking can kill him. He gets cancer. He sues “big tobacco” for his addiction. He wins. His compensatory damages are around a couple of million, for loss wages, life-time medical expenses, etc. The punitive award, to this one man, is $2.5 billion.

Even the notion that punitive damages should bear some reasonable relationship to compensatory damages is adamantly opposed. For instance, a suggestion is that punitive damages can’t be any more than ten times your compensatory damages. That means BMW man would have gotten $55,000, not $5 million; stupid cancer dude would probably have received around $27-33 million (assuming $2.5-3.0 million compensatory). Considerable sums of money, given the damages suffered, but arguably within the realm of reason.

But no, can’t do that. Every tort lawyer in the country, including “consumer advocate” Ralph Nader, opposes any sort of tort reform. Given that the normal legal fee for a tort is around 30% of the settlement, it’s easy to see why.

In the current health care reform debate, tort reform isn’t even on the table. How many millions of dollars are doctors forced to pay, each year, for malpractice insurance? How many billions are paid out, for both righteous and frivolous lawsuits? How much have these costs contributed to rising health care expenses?

Why do we graduate more lawyers each year than engineers…or doctors?

You can’t even talk reform in a state which itself suffers because of existing tort law. For example, my home state and employer, California. The state Department of Justice is the legal representative for all state departments save one, the Department of Transportation (Caltrans). The overwhelming majority of lawyers (and I mean approaching or exceeding 70%) who work for California work at Caltrans.

Why? Because in California if you sue a group of people for a tort, they are all liable for your damages. Whichever of the defendants can pay, pays all. He then has to turn around and sue his co-defendants for their share.

For Caltrans that means that whenever an accident occurs on a state road, highway, or freeway, Caltrans is automatically named as a co-defendant. If found even 1% at fault, Caltrans, i.e., California, i.e., the state’s taxpayers, pays the entire settlement. Caltrans, i.e., California, i.e., the state’s taxpayers, then has to turn around and sue the other defendants to recoup 99% of the cost.

Just to be clear, if rough pavement is found to have to contributed 1% toward a drunk driver accident, and the victim is awarded $10 million as a result of that accident, the state of California pays the entire $10 million rather than just its share of $100,000 (1%). Plus the state has paid the Caltrans lawyers who worked defending Caltrans. Plus California pays the Caltrans lawyers who now sue the drunk driver (the one, in this example, found 99% at fault) to recover the $9.9 million Caltrans wasn’t found liable for.

And because the state is always included, there’s always a “deep pocket” available, and so the amount of damages awarded the victim are generally beyond generous.

The Democrat-dominated state legislature won’t even consider correcting this problem, even at a time when California’s budget continues to implode. And if not for this problem, they certainly, on a national level, won’t look at tort reform as part of health care reform.

So instead...

“My Toyota runs rough.”

“You should buy a new Hummer.”

Sure, makes perfect sense.

Teaser: Avatar

2009-08-20T23:14:00.001-07:00

The first teaser trailer for James Cameron’s forthcoming Avatar is up. I am unmoved.

It’s an incredibly dull “tease.” In full-on 3D it might come to life, though. It certainly attempts to have sweeping vistas, an entire epic feel, but I’m just left feeling “meh.”

Matters are made worse by what the trailer shows. You have a soldier in a wheelchair who is given the opportunity to remote operate an alien body, his “avatar.” They can grow an entire alien, complete with the necessary central nervous system, yet they can’t fix his original body? Can’t wait to hear the techno-babble explanation for that.

Humans can fly across vast expanses of space, yet can’t “nuke the entire site from orbit. It’s the only way to be sure”? We’re reduced to fighting hand-to-hand, looking for all the world like Hollywood’s lasting image of Vietnam (door gunner hanging out of his helicopter, machinegun a-blaze…)?

I thought the reason for the avatars was because humans can’t work on planet Pandora (and ye gods, let’s telegraph our meaning with that name, shall we). Yet the trailer clearly shows humans, as humans, walking about on the planet’s surface, not to mention the fancy military mech gear. Hell, they’re not just working, they’re engaged in combat.

I confess, I am not a huge Cameron fan. I think his best film was one of his first, the original, the gritty, the raw and brutal, the ever-awesome Terminator (not the remake). Since then his obsession has been on effects and brilliantly staged action sequences, forsaking any notion of true human emotion or interaction.

Given that Avatar appears, in large measure, to be an alien love story, he’s running true to form.

Update: Vote an opinion on the trailer here. I don't know about the votes, but the comments I read aren't encouraging.

Update: Read a fawning commentary here. I say "fawning" because of the judicious editing of cinematic history used to puff up this film (completely fails to mention modern 3D cinema, e.g., Up). Sad, leaves me the distinct impression the film can't stand on its own. Is this The Abyss in 3D?

Update: An interesting essay, wondering whether District 9 has already upstaged Avatar.

Update: Kyle Smith saw the 20-minute 3D presentation and thinks the film will be a hit.

DVD: Mutant Chronicles

2009-08-13T20:30:00.001-07:00

Oh, what might have been.

This is not a good film, but wow, it might have been. I remember seeing early talk and clips for this over at io9; none of the commentary was positive. But somehow I was intrigued. So here it is on DVD and…well, it’s not that good a film. And yet.

The story goes that at the end of the ice age, a great machine fell onto earth and starting cranking out mutants. The ancient tribes of man united and buried the machine, sealing the mutants in. Fast forward to the dark future. The world is split between four corporations, fighting for the scraps of the planet. A battle between two of the corporations unseals the mutant machine, and the mayhem begins. The fate of the world rests with a small band of warriors who, on a suicide mission, must descend into the ground and destroy the mutant machine.

I don’t know about you, but that plot description sounds like all sorts of awesome to me. Alas, it’s in the execution where great ideas live or, like here, die. The writing is a collection of oh-so-bad dialogue and plot holes the size of, well, alien mutant manufacturing machines from outer space. You will not be dazzled by any of the acting.

The film also suffers from an oppressive amount of “style.” It’s sorta like steampunk gone bad, but not as good as that sounds, actually. Some of it is simply awesome to look at, but overall it’s just too much.

An example is also a film high point: Our Heroic Band boards a shuttle that is powered by steam. You have big, sweaty men shoveling coal into furnaces, flight officers dressed in their British replica best, thick metal plates with rivets, tiny windscreens, oodles of strange dials and optics, etc. The boilers come up to pressure and they launch. Monks stand and point in reverence (I kid thee not). We have here a steam-powered aircraft chugging along like a steam-powered locomotive. It’s simply awesome. If the film had merely lived up to this sequence it would have been awesome.

There are gritty, grimy, gory grapplings galore. The mutants have a stabbing claw for one arm so they just hack humans up. They’re fast, love fog, and while appearing stupid can actually fly steam-powered aircraft. Stupid is as stupid does, go figure.

We are also left to figure out how the “ancient tribes,” armed with spears, swords, and animal hides, stopped the mutant horde from conquering the Earth while four major corporations with massive amounts of explosive armaments are helpless, opting to cut and run rather than stand, fight, and, er, win.

A pleasant surprise is the soundtrack by Richard Wells. Where has this guy been hiding? The music is excellent, a grand thumping score that would make Korngold proud. I’ve already grabbed the digital download from Amazon. Too bad that, like so many musical artists ahead of him, Wells’ music is squandered on a sub-standard film.

Ah well. Despite all that, Mutant Chronicles is a guilty pleasure. I might have to add it to the collection, right next to Wanted and Hitman and, yes, Battlefield Earth.

Spielberg has lost his soul

2009-08-03T21:43:00.001-07:00

Further proof of the coming Apocalypse:

Steven Spielberg has committed to his next film, and it will be an adaptation of the Mary Chase Pulitzer Prize-winning play “Harvey,” which will be done as a co-production between 20th Century Fox and DreamWorks.

What’s next, a remake of Casablanca? Citizen Kane? Jaws?!?

H/T: AICN.

Blu-Ray and Hi Def can look pretty damn awful

2009-08-02T08:49:00.001-07:00

So I’m in Best Buy the other day, buying discounted copies of Wanted and Taken, sweet deal, and I start watching one of their Blu-Ray Disk (BD) and high-definition TV setups. It was playing U-571, a film that resides in my DVD collection. Awesome, thought I.

Only it wasn’t.

It was awful. Everything had this gloss and sheen to it. It was so sharp that it stopped being film. It looked exactly like “quality” video. Yes, it was high-quality video, but it looked like video nonetheless. And it was, as said, awful.

I don’t think anything was out of adjustment because it looked so damn sharp. It’s just that the end product came out looking terrible. Another demo setup was showing Spider-Man 2 and it looked just as bad.

I know this isn’t an across the board result of BD + hi-def. My son has a BD setup (though the TV is only 720P) and we watched the BD version of The Dark Knight on it. Nonetheless, it seems like a distinct possibility if the film isn’t treated right when it gets recorded on BD.

But it’s a cautionary note. Some of your DVD’s will look better on that BD/hi-def combo if you don’t buy a BD version. Stick with the DVD until it melts from overuse.

DVD: Watchmen (Director’s Cut)

2009-07-25T10:50:00.001-07:00

Sometimes excess is just that, excess. It serves no purpose whatsoever, and that’s my biggest problem with Watchmen. It presses the outer boundaries of an R rating for no reason other than to make you cringe; it doesn’t serve the story, it distracts and detracts. In a different age this film would have been rated NC-17. It’s a sad commentary that Watchmen makes A Clockwork Orange appear tame. The irony is that Watchmen’s best character, Rorschach, would probably condemn a film like Watchmen.

Nonetheless, and here’s the twist, I think A Clockwork Orange is a brilliant film, and I’m beginning to believe that Watchmen is, too. The genius lies in creating a superhero, masked vigilante world and taking it serious. If The Dark Knight illustrates the high ideals such people would have to hold, Watchmen is their dark side. It illustrates what happens when some of those “heroes” fall prey to their baser instincts, the very instincts they claim to fight.

How well you appreciate this depends on how well you deal with genre fiction, and superheroes in particular. If you are generally dismissive of such things, Watchmen is not for you. If, on the other hand, you either embrace such things are at least given to speculating, “Hey, what if there really was a Batman...?” then you should find Watchmen a challenging experience. (This is a generality; Kyle Smith, who openly disdains comic book films, loved Watchmen from first viewing.)

The premise of the film is straight-forward. In an alternate time-line, masked vigilantes, are real and have been fighting crime for decades. One of them, Dr. Manhattan (Billy Crudup), is even a genuine superhero, possessing extraordinary powers and abilities. But in a world that sees Richard Nixon elected president of the United States fives times, the time of the masked vigilante has passed and they are banned. All, supposedly, slip into retirement.

If you buy that premise, the rest is relatively easy. The plot of the film starts with the murder of the Comedienne (Jeffrey Dean Morgan), one of the retired superheroes. Rorschach (Jackie Earle Haley), a superhero who has refused to quit and is therefore always on the run from the law, begins his own investigation into the murder. In doing so, he begins contacting his old allies, upsetting their quiet, retired lives.

As he did with 300, director Zack Snyder brings much of the original graphic novel to life on the screen. Here, he’s not as slavish to doing so, which improves the film. Variances from the novel are also, for the most part, smart alterations. Unfortunately, some of Alan Moore’s less brilliant moments made the transition. His, and Snyder’s, portrayal of Nixon and his staff are ludicrous, and the entire build-up toward nuclear war isn’t convincing.

Those are quibbles, though; they’re all background material and it’s the foreground material that dominates. In general, the acting is all right. Some lines are delivered with all the verve and emotion of a high school reading, but they do okay.

On the other hand, two of the film’s central characters are played brilliantly. As the Comedienne, Morgan is at once evil and sympathetic. He’s clearly a sociopath, but watching him come undone, and to his ultimate undoing, is a marvelous performance.

And Haley as Rorschach...? Words almost fail me. His performance of a man who only sees the world in black and white, who can’t compromise or quit, “not even in the face of Armageddon,” is just brilliant. Whenever he’s on-screen he owns the screen. His climatic moments are simply gut-wrenching.

The director’s cut adds little touches here and there. Above all, they illustrate how skillfully matters were edited in the theatrical release. They really don’t add to (or subtract from) the plot, but for the most part they are intriguing expansions on the characters. If you want to obsess over such things, pay the extra change for the director’s cut. The least the film will be at least as good as the theatrical cut, not something that can be said of most “special editions” or “director’s cuts.”

Excesses, some weak performances, and the silly backstory elements aside, the film rocks. I was engaged from the first frame, mesmerized by the brilliant title sequence, and held at attention to the very end. Is it perfect? No. In addition to the issues I’ve already raised, the biggest change from the novel is in the ending, and it doesn’t really hold up under close scrutiny.

But as a work of genre fiction it expands what the genre is capable of. It’s the only film I can think of that comes close to challenging the brilliance that is The Dark Knight, in several regards actually surpassing it. Much like the better animated features we’ve seen, such as Spirited Away or even Up, it challenges the box that genre films are often put in. Watchmen deserves to be measured against any sort of film out there.

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

2009-07-22T19:57:00.001-07:00

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince is a decent enough film, but the accumulating problems of the series are beginning to take their toll.

I’ve never read the books, but I’ve seen all the films. The first two are near-dreadful, the third is near-brilliant, the fourth is near-meh with glimpses of brilliance, and the fifth is just meh. With the sixth film, however, it’s become clear that to really understand what’s going on, you have to have read the books. In the films, characters tend to speak in short-hand. Fans of the books will easily fill in the missing pieces; those who haven’t are left hanging. The accumulating lack of data is beginning to show.

For example, why did Voldemort kill Harry’s parents? Why is he obsessed with Harry? Where’s he been lo these many years? In the books, much of this is explained in the prophecy Voldemort was after in The Order of the Phoenix. If you’ve read the books, obviously, you know this. If you haven’t...?

Fans of the books know this stuff by heart (my son rattled all this off in a second, from memory, including quoting the prophecy in full; his wife is an even greater source is minutia.); the films generally don’t explain anything. I used to think that J.K. Rowlings’ fanatical control over the films was to ensure quality and consistency, or at least, that’s the official line. Now it’s clear she’s a good capitalist, ensuring new generations will continue to buy her books, if for no other reason than to figure out what the hell is going on in the films. I haven’t seen anything like this since Stanley Kubrick assured wide-scale sales of Arthur C. Clarke. Damn clever of her.

Anyway, as to HBP, it’s an improvement over its immediate predecessor, the aforementioned Order of the Phoenix. Director David Yates is getting more comfortable with the material, and this film is Steve Kloves return to writing the series (in the end, he’ll have authored every screenplay except Phoenix).

It’s the first in the series since the genuinely brilliant Prisoner of Azkaban that tries to stop being episodic in nature, creating a film that is plot driven from start to finish. Tries, but can’t quite do it. The plot is setup pretty quick and the film generally chirps right along. The forces of Voldemort, the dark lord, are getting bolder. They destroy a bridge in London for no apparent reason other than saying, “Look what we can do, nyah nyah to your rules!”

Dumbledore, Harry’s mentor and semi-guardian, is trying to understand what Voldemort is after, and in order to do that he needs to uncover aspects of Voldemort’s past. To do that, he lures an old teacher back to Hogwarts and asks Harry to befriend him. The teacher, Dumbledore believes, gave the young pre-dark lord Voldemort, some information that is pretty darn important.

Or something like that. The films have never really explained what happened to Voldemort after he killed Harry’s parents and failed to kill Harry. He’s just been...gone, and managed to pull himself back together in the fourth film, Goblet of Fire. This all makes sense if: a) you’ve have read the books, or b) you have a guide. I have a guide, my son and his wife. The series plot takes some serious complications this go-around, so either brush up on your reading or consult your guide to make sure you get it all.

HBP finally puts Alan Rickman to good use. No one alive can whisper a line like Rickman and make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. And that’s just when he tells you to turn to page 394. Think of the effect if he’s actually making a threat, which he does in this film. His Severus Snape character finally gets some well-deserved development.

Jim Broadbent is this film’s guest British actor, the one Dumbledore lures back to Hogwarts. One of the series’ great charms is in seeing some truly marvelous British acting talent take small but consequential roles and doing truly marvelous work. Broadbent is an excellent example.

Unlike Prisoner of Azkaban, HBP keeps falling into being episodic; not as bad as all of the others, but still a problem. Much of what happens has nothing to do with the film’s plot, or anything else for that matter, so much of the time you’re just bored (unless you’ve read the books or your guide whispers the background to the business going on). I am truly tired of seeing teen angst love in fantasy films. It didn’t work for me in Goblet of Fire, or Twilight for that matter, and it works even less here. Matters aren’t made any better by the developing relationships being so safe and predictable. Harry with Ginny? Well, certainly, ho-hum and yawn. Harry with Luna would have been an awesome surprise, but alas, it’s not meant to be.

A larger problem with the series is the growing lack of danger. It’s a given that Harry will survive, regardless of what happens. Commenting on this feels like remarking on the weather. I say, lovely summer weather we’re having, and look, Harry survived another encounter with the Dark Lord’s minions! Fortunately, the enjoyment comes in seeing how he’ll survive, not just in knowing that he’ll survive.

As with all the films in the series, once it hits its stride, the film moves right along to a very emotional climax. If you really get wrapped up in these films, bring a Kleenex, maybe a box.

Everything considered, I enjoyed the film. The Prisoner of Azkaban remains the shining jewel in the collection, the one that can stand on its own as being a simply great film. In comparison, The Half-Blood Prince is “merely” an excellent chapter in the on-going Potter saga. It also accomplishes its major goal, of setting the table, as it were, for the remaining story, The Deathly Hallows. And as prelude to the end, HBP is very good indeed.

Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen

2009-07-14T22:52:00.001-07:00

I woke up the other day with the realization that I was one of maybe three people on Earth who hadn’t yet seen the latest Transformers film. Feeling the need to lower my IQ, I went to remedy this. There are now, somewhere, only two people who haven’t seen Michael Bay’s latest...thing.

Possibly the most accurate review of the film, though laden with spoilers, may be found here. Written as a Q&A, an example of its commentary is:

Can you explain Megan Fox's appeal?
Yes. She looks like a porn star and has the same acting talent as one, yet for some reason she makes mainstream movies. This tonal disconnect is what's so appealing about her.

Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen (RotF) is a loud, sprawling, loud, drawn-out, loud, colorful, loud, spiraling, loud, dizzying, loud, train wreck of a film. And knowing that train wrecks are governed by the laws of physics, and even while appearing chaotic proceed along understandable lines, calling this film a train wreck may, in fact, be an insult to train wrecks.

I have a high tolerance for bad cinema. Witness the fact that I actually like both Wanted and Hitman. By any objective measure, these films are horrible, yet I can watch them over and over.

I thought Transformers was awesome. Every negative observation ever made about it is probably 100% accurate, and I don’t care. The film has the remarkable ability to turn off my brain and leave it off, not tricking it, even for a moment, to re-engage. If for no other reason, this makes Transformers an amazing film.

Would this were so of RotF. It kept making me twitch. Why is their a sun-destroying weapon on Earth? Why did the beings that put it here go off and die rather than take it away? Why do robots fart? Why do they have backwoods country hick accents? Why are so many of them so stupid? Why is Shia LeBeouf considered an actor? Why is Megan Fox given any dialogue? Who really, honestly, seriously, thinks Robert Orci and Alex Kurtzman can write forth a damn?

I know, I know, many of these things (and more) could also have been asked of the first film, yet here they are inflated to massive size, illuminated with bright lighting, and presented with brain-warping volume. It’s as though you’re challenged not just to disengage your brain, but to actually close your eyes, cover your ears, and chant, “Lalalalalala!”

Is that anyway to watch a film?

Here’s a small example of the writing: Megatron lies at the bottom of the sea and five Decepticons descend to revive him. Why don’t they freeze? That’s why Megatron was dumped there, so the freezing waters would keep him frozen and inert. Five go down, and a US submarine tracks them on sonar. At the bottom, four of them tear apart the fifth so his parts can be used to revive Megatron. Alive once more, he leads the ascent back to the surface. And the sonar man dutifully reports six objects rising....

Wait? 5-1+1=6? What is this, a variation of the ultimate answer to the ultimate question? This is the sort of “oops” that a first review of the first draft should have caught.

Obviously, no one cared. And that shows throughout the film.

No one involved in making this film could be bothered to use both hands to do the math. And this goes on for two hours and forty minutes. At the end my butt was numb, my ears were ringing, and I really have little to no idea just what the hell happened.

Christian Toto realizes that the film is critic-proof. John Nolte can’t help but express in even more detail why it oh so sucks. (And both, not quite as much as me, pretty much enjoyed the first film.) MovieBob rages because this film, even more than the first, takes a dump on a beloved franchise.

Me? I’m annoyed because it’s not even a decent follow-up to the first film. It can’t even be bothered to be consistent within itself, let alone with the first film. The entire film evokes a screaming sense of WTF?!?

On a strange, fetish level I enjoyed parts of the film. There were flashes of moments of humor that made me laugh (can’t remember them, though, because my brain fled the theatre). As I said, I liked the first film and would have loved to have completely enjoyed the sequel.

But I didn’t. It was so loud and so big and so hyper that I was bored. Same thing happened when I saw Return of the King. Just how many battles can you sit through before you yawn and look at your watch?

Curious observations: It names Obama as president. Why? The film is now frozen in this moment in time. They parodied Bush in the first film, but didn’t name him. This film sort of slams Obama by naming him and making his representative a complete ass. Interesting.

As to the “racists twins”: Jazz, in the first film, made me cringe because of his racial overtones. I thought he was far more insulting then these guys. The point can be argued, but what’s loud (very loud) and clear is that they are horrible, pointless characters. We’re talking beyond Jar Jar Binks.

By sad coincidence, though, they have one of the funniest exchanges in the film, at least one I can remember:

Ow, that hurts.

Itsan ass whuppin’, it’s suppose ta hurt.

Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen hurts, your eyes, your ears, and every conscious, functioning brain cell you possess. Maybe it’s an ass whuppin’, and not really a film at all. Hey, it suddenly all makes perfect sense.

A 2nd Look at Quantum of Solace

2009-06-18T22:44:00.001-07:00

Actually, more like a half-dozen 2^nd looks.

Over at Big Hollywood, I got into a short, pleasant exchange with another reader (dcase) about Quantum of Solace. In the end, we agreed that it was better the second time around, and then he made an intriguing statement, that it was as close to an art house film as a Bond film is liable to get.

Art house? Bond? Let’s work our way to that, and I’m afraid there are liable to be SPOILERS in this discussion. Sorry.

First, I was perhaps less than kind to QoS when I first reviewed it. Many of my objections still stand. The action is, more often than not, disjointed, an example of the extreme close-up, shaky cam, rapid cut “style” that dominates modern action films. It’s not a style, it’s a disease. Most people blame Michael Bay for this plague, but I think the real cause is Paul Greengrass and his two Bourne films. Action films, Bay aside, want to imitate Bourne. Bay always takes a moment or two to pull the camera back and remind you where everyone is; Greengrass never does. The action in The Bourne Supremacy is almost comprehensible, but in The Bourne Ultimatum it’s ludicrous.

Bourne is appropriate for this discussion because so many critics saw QoS as Bond imitating Bourne. On a cursory level, that’s true. Speed up the action, make the filming a twirling blur, and voila, Bond is Bourne. But that’s not really the sort of film QoS is, and watching it again (and again) made that clear.

QoS is a James Bond procedural more than an James Bond action film, and I think that’s what puts people off (including me) on first viewing. He is constantly working clues and following leads. Nothing illustrates this better than the entire opera sequence, from Bond’s arrival to his departure. This sequence is sheer genius in how it unfolds, from how Bond acquires a tuxedo, to his infiltration of the villains’ meeting, to his identifying key members of the antagonist organization, and to his facing off with Green. This is brilliant filmmaking and easily one of the best sequences of any Bond film.

It’s important to see that Bond’s efforts aren’t to hunt and kill, but to find and uncover and answer. Yes, he does kill, but pay attention: His key targets are left alive (at least by him). He works his way up the food chain, so to speak, to get the information he needs. At the end of the film, Bond has a better understanding of the enemy he faces. Presumably he passed this information onto M, and we’re set for the next film.

Notably, though, the audience isn’t let in on the secret, and I wonder if this is where the “art house” allusion comes from. Things aren’t wrapped up in a tidy package with a pretty bow. The film starts with the loose ends from Casino Royale and ends with several of those still loose while adding a few more. The fight that Bond, MI-6, and perhaps the civilized world, find themselves in is too large for a single, or even a pair, of films.

At the end of QoS, we know the bad guys are an organization called “Quantum.” (Maybe.) We know they are engaged in something called “The Tierra Project.” (Possibly.) We know they’re big and they’re everywhere. (Apparently.) And that’s about it. We don’t know their motivations. The film’s villain, Green, states that they are non-ideological, that they work for (and against) the left and the right. Aside from being nihilists, we really don’t know much about them. If they turn out to be some shadowy corporation doing this all for money I will be terribly disappointed. On the other hand, they could be the rebirth of SPECTRE (Special Executive for Counter-intelligence, Terrorism, Revenge and Extortion), and that would be very, very cool.

Director Marc Forster is content to leave these questions unanswered. He is focused on Bond and Bond, in this film, does not solve all problems. Instead, he evolves. Casino Royale showed Bond achieving his “double-oh” status and sent off on his first mission as 007. Quantum of Solace resumes that mission, but more on Bond’s terms. He appears to have gone rogue, but instead, by film’s end, he’s achieved several major goals. He also clearly states, in words and in actions and despite all cynical appearances and statements to the contrary, that he has never left the service of Queen and country.

The film’s end is remarkably quiet, that lingering shot on a necklace discarded and left in the snow. Bond has solved his internal issues and is now ready to do his duty. His relationship with M is one forged in fire and ready for action. At the end of QoS, he has become the Bond we first met on the big screen in Dr. No.

So QoS holds up remarkably well, even after several viewings. Being more than an action film, it gives you something to think about, even if it’s only little nuances of Bondian character, or the nature of the world he inhabits. My anonymous friend at Big Hollywood stated that QoS is, and will remain, the only direct Bond sequel, and I think that’s a shame, because I’m ready for the next, direct chapter in this unfolding saga.

Remembering June 6, 1944

2009-06-06T18:05:00.001-07:00

Nothing I could say would surpass the words of the great man himself:

SUPREME HEADQUARTERS
ALLIED EXPEDITIONARY FORCE

Soldiers, Sailors and Airmen of the Allied Expeditionary Force!

You are about to embark upon the Great Crusade, toward which we have striven these many months. The eyes of the world are upon you. The hopes and prayers of liberty-loving people everywhere march with you. In company with our brave Allies and brothers-in-arms on other Fronts, you will bring about the destruction of the German war machine, the elimination of Nazi tyranny over the oppressed peoples of Europe, and security for ourselves in a free world.

Your task will not be an easy one. Your enemy is well trained, well equipped and battle hardened. He will fight savagely.

But this is the year 1944! Much has happened since the Nazi triumphs of 1940-41. The United Nations have inflicted upon the Germans great defeats, in open battle, man-to-man. Our air offensive has seriously reduced their strength in the air and their capacity to wage war on the ground. Our Home Fronts have given us an overwhelming superiority in weapons and munitions of war, and placed at our disposal great reserves of trained fighting men. The tide has turned! The free men of the world are marching together to Victory!

I have full confidence in your courage and devotion to duty and skill in battle. We will accept nothing less than full Victory!

Good luck! And let us beseech the blessing of Almighty God upon this great and noble undertaking.

SIGNED: Dwight D. Eisenhower

Up

2009-05-31T14:04:00.001-07:00

I’m still trying to understand just how good a film Up is. I emphasize film because I don’t put any qualifier ahead of it. I’m not saying “animated film” or “CGI film;” I’m saying film, period, end of story, as in it should compete for Best Picture Oscar and never mind that silly best animated feature award. Live action films, beware, you are now in competition with a cartoon that pretty much kicks your ass.

Pixar is in a rather enviable position. The trailers for Up really give you no idea what the film is about, other than a man flying off in his house. Yet millions are flocking to the theatre, more than went to see other, recent Pixar films on their opening weekend. That’s pure good will and expectations, buoyed even higher by what is sure to be excellent word of mouth.

Up tells the story of Carl and Ellie. Ellie, mind you, is no where to be found in the trailers, for the simple reason that she dies in the first five minutes of the film. And yet she inhabits most every frame. She is the driving force behind Carl’s adventure, inadvertently shared with young Russell, as he travels to Paradise Falls, somewhere in South America.

The opening montage of Up demonstrates the power of cinema to tell a purely visual story. It is a powerful, emotional roller coaster that is finally relieved by deft touches of visual humor that, in rapid succession, show you the misery Carl lives in after losing Ellie. When faced with a court order placing him in a nursing home, Carl creates a third option and his adventure begins.

That he doesn’t realize this until well into the film is one of its charms. The tiny morals and messages contained within the story unfold in good order. The film pauses and lets each sink in, without taking out a club and beating you over the head.

This is a film of love and laughter, triumph and loss. It celebrates the adventure of ordinary life, even while its characters embark on an extraordinary adventure. It’s quietest moments resound in your heart. There’s never a moment where you go, “Hey, wait a minute…”

In that funny way that film has, this isn’t my favorite Pixar film. (That would be Ratatouille.) That said, however, Up may be Pixar’s finest film to date, every bit as good as any live-action film we’ve seen this decade, a film of imagination and wit, of tremendous beauty and vision, filled with heart.

It is impossible to over-state just how good Up is, and how quickly I think you should run out and see it.

UPDATE:

With apologies to my little rodent friend, Remy, I have to correct myself. I admire people who can do this at first glance; it takes me a bit longer. Ratatouille is now my close second favorite Pixar film, Up has taken the prize.

Up is essentially perfect. I don’t think there’s a wasted frame in the entire film. I hate the word “art;” I prefer craft, and Up exudes a love of craft that I haven’t seen since, well, last year, with The Dark Knight. The care with which each frame is assembled is amazing to behold.

Up is a film that embraces silence as firmly as it embraces noise. It pauses at just the right moments to let the emotion sink in, but doesn’t linger any longer than necessary. This is smart filmmaking presenting a smart story. It is also an excellent adventure story (MovieBob gets it exactly right); simply breath-taking at times, it’s always surprising. The new Kirk should hang his head in shame; he (and Wolverine and John Connor and…) just got pwned by an old man.

I am in danger of gushing because I think this film is great. Apparently I am not alone, as people voted with over $68 million this weekend. To see a film about a 78-year-old grump. That is simply amazing. Almost as amazing as the film Up is.

God Bless ’Em

2009-05-25T11:14:00.001-07:00

My daughter is finishing up her sixth year of active duty with the US armed forces; my son-in-law-to-be is completing his eleventh. Both are aiming to be 20-year veterans. Friends have sons and daughters who have served six or more years. They have all seen multiple deployments overseas, in one hot zone or another. None of them regret enlisting (or re-enlisting), all serve with distinction, all are proud of who they are, what they do, and the country they serve.

There aren’t enough words for me to express my gratitude for those who serve. As said, I know a lot of them, and I find them remarkable. Their sacrifices are many, in little and immense ways.

I know exactly who to thank for the freedoms I enjoy.

For all who serve, who have served, and who will continue to serve, and in memory of those who have given all and to their families who have lost so very, very much: Thank you, and God bless.

DVD: Benjamin Buttons

2009-05-13T22:00:00.001-07:00

I’m at a loss. I’m not really sure why this film got so much critical praise and award nominations. While far from bad, it’s also far from great. It’s another example of where “it doesn’t suck” is taken as high praise.

The Curious Case of Benjamin Buttons unfolds at a lugubrious (love that word) pace. It tells the tale of a man born physically old, who grows physically younger as he grows chronologically older. It’s a cute concept, much better done here than Frances Coppola did with Youth Without Youth (which is just tedious). It just doesn’t seem to have any relevance to the story that unfolds on the screen.

I suppose it could be an illustration of the saying, “Youth is wasted on the young.” Only it never seems to work that angle. The punchline, such as it is, seems to be that you can swear, fight, struggle, but in the end, you die. This is news?

In many ways, this is Forest Gump Revisited, only a shade more mature. Where Gump was more often humorous, Buttons is almost always somber. Both films are populated with colorful characters, central characters in both are from the Deep South, and the titular characters in both see the world differently from “ordinary” folk. The comparison seems apt, especially since I was never as swept away by Gump as everyone else seemed to have been. It was a pleasant enough film, and so is Buttons, but neither is much more than that.

The difference, I think, comes from the men behind the camera. With Gump, Bob Zemeckis hit his (to date) career high. In contrast, there’s David Fincher’s Buttons. I’ve always enjoyed Fincher’s work, and it’s in comparison to his past track record that Buttons is disappointing.

I’m one of those who believe that if Fincher had been left alone, Alien 3 would have been a great science fiction classic. And while neither is perfect, both Seven and Fight Club have glimpses of genius. He stumbled a bit with Panic Room, which is a rather ordinary, if well made, thriller. He took all that he had done and learned and produced the genuinely chilling Zodiac.

Compared against those, Buttons is pedestrian. It’s beautifully photographed and captures its passing eras with deft authenticity. A battle between a tug boat and a U-boat is a standout for demonstrating simple tension and determination. Again and again, the film delivers a lush visual landscape. I was startled how well Zodiac recreated the San Francisco I grew up in, and I wonder if residents of New Orleans feel the same about how Buttons recreates their town.

But in the end, these are only the sets and locales. They do not a movie make. Buttons plays out like an excuse to recreate places and things, but the people are given little to do other than...live.

Maybe that should be enough, but with this film and for me, it wasn’t. There were no magical revelations, no fascinating re-examinations, not even a gentle nudge to our gentle assumptions about life.

I prefer Fincher when he upsets my world, when he nudges my sensibilities with either a little push or a boot to the head. Seven complicates simple law-and-order morality, while Fight Club has you questioning reality itself. Panic Room makes you understand that real security comes from within one’s self, and not a concrete room. And Zodiac strips away all sense of security, invoking tension with a creaking floorboard or less, and recreating within your gut what it was like living in a town with an unknown (and still unknown) serial killer.

Alas, The Curious Case of Benjamin Buttons isn’t in their league. It’s a well-made mainstream film that is lovely to look at, but contains nothing to think about.

Star Trek = Cotton Candy

2009-05-09T17:03:00.001-07:00

Well, it doesn’t suck.

Despite J.J. Abrams repeatedly telling me to stay away (“Not your father’s Star Trek”, but what if I’m the father you’re referring to?), my son, his wife, and I went on opening day. I’ve been thinking how to put all this down ever since. Where to begin?

The opening sequence is simply brilliant. Watching the USS Kelvin get smeared by The Villain is a vivid experience. A small sample is watching members of the crew race for their emergency stations as the ship comes under attack. Without warning, a wall rips open and several are blown into the silent, lethal vacuum of space. The moment is made all the more horrific by going from screaming sounds to (literally) deathly silence.

Most of the first half of the film lives up to this promising start. A scene where young Kirk steals a car and throws it off a cliff is just awful, though, and meeting Spock as he beats the snot out of a school bully is painful. Despite these stumbles, characters are introduced in good order. Some of the dialogue was written by someone with a tin ear, but relative to what’s to come, that’s a quibble.

Most of the acting is better than all right. Simon Pegg, as Scotty, is a little disappointing, though I suspect he’ll grow into the part. Zachary Quinto does an admirable job as Spock, catching many of the character’s nuances just right. John Cho (Sulu) and Anton Yelchin (Chekov) don’t quite suck but I was glad when they weren’t on screen. Zoe Saldana’s Uhuru isn’t bad, but it’s rather embarrassing that a key scene involves her stripping down to her underwear (and people complained about Nichelle Nichols’ feather dance).

Karl Urban, in contrast, is a revelation. His performance, as McCoy, is not only perfect, but an homage to DeForrest Kelley, the man who first breathed life into the character. It’s remarkable.

As for Chris Pine as Kirk, he’s better than I expected but the problem is fundamental. In an interview, Pine said he based his character on Indiana Jones and Han Solo. Not bad…if you’re playing an adventurous rogue. Which he’s not. Contrast that with William Shatner, who said he based his performance of Kirk on Alexander the Great, one of the greatest military commanders in history, one who was undefeated because he didn’t believe in being defeated (i.e., just so I’m perfectly clear, “I don’t believe in the no-win scenario”).

That’s not a rogue, that’s a leader. That’s who Kirk is. And who this Kirk isn’t.

It’s not Pine’s fault, it’s the writers’. The problem is that the rebooted Kirk doesn’t make any sense. Every other character’s background is left alone. In contrast, Kirk’s history, from birth, is rewritten by that brilliant opening sequence. The original Kirk became who he was because he was inspired by a father who was an active member of Starfleet. He had lifetime to know, live, and even work with his father.

This Kirk, on the other hand, was raised by…who knows. Rumor has it, it’s his drunken, abusive uncle, but that’s no where shown in the film. (And if that’s true, then his mother is shown abandoning her son to such a person.) Yet somehow, Kirk is Kirk, despite living an entirely different life. Nature versus nurture? The original Kirk was arrogant because of a lifetime of effort, achievement, and success, guided by the role models he grew up with; this Kirk is arrogant because he’s a punk. Somehow, a one-minute speech turns him around.

Sure.

And so the film starts to unravel. Eric Bana’s Nero, The Villain, doesn’t help. He’s flat and unsympathetic. He’s on a rampage for some reason, kills people on sight just because, and puts his entire scheme of revenge, vengeance, retribution, etc., on hold for 25+ years because the plot requires him to do so. During this time, no one will attempt to locate this marauder or even discuss his existence.

Why? Who knows. As we barrel into the second act, Star Trek can’t be bothered to explain what the hell is going on. It’s just time to blow something else up. When it does deign to explain what the hell is going on (kinda, but not really), it’s in the worst way possible, with an expository dump (the only reason for Leonard Nimoy to be in the film).

The film has luscious visual effects, or at least I think it does. It suffers from the rapid cut, shaky cam, extreme close up style that is so in vogue today, so who really knows. An Autobot could have exploded on screen and you wouldn’t have noticed.

The production design is a mixed bag. Early shots on the Kelvin, on Earth, and on Vulcan, are great, but the bridge of the Enterprise is just silly and Nero’s ship makes no sense. The truly dreadful choice was filming real-life “industrial areas” as the ship’s engineering spaces. This looks so cheap, words fail me.

On a more positive note, there’s Michael Giacchino’s music (no pun intended). Like the film, it’s hit or miss, but more hits than misses. His action cues are generic and repetitive, but the more somber moments are lush, emotional, and addictive. What I really appreciated, though, was the care and grace he showed with Alexander Courage’s original theme music. The orchestration and arrangements used are fantastic, and it’s to Giacchino’s credit that he made someone else’s work shine so brightly.

In the end, what’s it all mean? When the film was done, I said, “That rocked!” That feeling lasted roughly an hour, as we discussed the characters and plot and they all started falling apart. While it doesn’t suck, it’s disappointing, a film that seems to pander more than inspire, one that never attempts to invoke any sense of wonder or even an enduring emotion. It’s light and fluffy and unsubstantial.

Like cotton candy.

Have I mentioned I saw Monsters vs. Aliens?

2009-04-25T16:27:00.001-07:00

It’s possible that Pixar is becoming a blight on the world of animation. Yes, they do some really great work (The Incredibles, Ratatouille), but they’ve also done some clunkers (Cars, Wall-E). Their greatest sin, though, is that they apparently radiate a variation of the Steve Jobs Reality Distortion Field, so that any other animated film – especially if done with CG – is automatically judged inferior.

There is some justification to this, but you don’t see every live action film being compared to, say, the films of Ingmar Bergman (well, except by brooding people wearing dark glasses sitting in dim coffee shops smoking clove cigarettes discussing cinema, damn you). In the traditional film world, it’s accepted that different artists turn out different products. In the animated world, everyone is supposed to match or surpass Pixar, or so it seems.

Needless to say, that’s just a crock.

Monsters vs Aliens is to your typical Pixar production as Spielberg is to Scorsese. And I have to stress “typical” because MVA exceeds several Pixar films that I can think of, just as Spielberg’s Jaws or Raiders of the Lost Ark clobber, oh, Kundun or The Departed. And if you don’t think those films should be compared to each other, then you get my point about comparing all animated films to Pixar, thank you very much.

This is the first modern 3-D film I’ve seen. I was impressed. Initially the glasses were a little disturbing, but within minutes of the film beginning I forgot about the glasses and enjoyed the effect. With few exceptions, MVA avoids all the old-school gags of having something thrown out at the audience. Instead, it was content with letting us view a world of depth, in addition to traditional height and width.

As to MVA itself, I liked it. It’s a light-hearted romp through the simple concept of doing a mash-up of B-movie monsters. We have Ginormica (The Fifty Foot Woman), The Missing Link (The Creature), Dr. Cockaroach (The Fly), Insectasaurus (Mothra), and B.O.B. (The Blob). It’s not quite as awesome as a film with those actual creatures might have been, but blame copyright for the near-miss. The film is light on its feet, a little light in the head, and just a light confection of enjoyment. I laughed out loud and had a good time.

What’s to complain about? Well, it could have been a little smarter, some of the humor gets repetitious, and the villain is just this side of “meh.” The film comes dangerously close to grinding to a halt when the villain’s on-screen. Indeed, once his giant robot is defeated, he doesn’t seem quite so threatening. And yet, somehow, he still must be. This is where the writing gets weak. They came up with this absolutely awesome alien probe that you see in the trailers, and then couldn’t come up with any sort of follow-up that could match it.

Oh well, there’s still B.O.B., who for obvious reason is My Hero. He’s an indestructible gelatinous mass that has no brain (“Turns out, you don’t need one!”). He’s a trifle on-note and I don’t care. He kept me entertained and made me laugh. I especially loved how he handled aliens, and appreciate his love for a good Jello mold.

I was surprised by General W.R. Monger. At first glance, such a character – on name alone – could give offense. But in reality, he turns out to be a man of principle and honor. He is the monsters’ jailer. He promises them freedom in exchange for defeating the enormous alien robot probe. When they succeed, he lives up to his word and releases them. Further, at the climatic battle he comes to the rescue, just in the nick of time. In the end, far from being an insult to the men and women of the military, he’s a shining example of what they truly are. I was amazed.

So MVA wins me over on good will and heart. Loved the 3-D (even if I don’t get what the big deal is), loved the animation (the battle on the Golden Gate Bridge is a stand-out), loved most of the characters (thank you, General Monger, and long live B.O.B.!).

See it, enjoy it, and forget the endless comparisons to Pixar. If people continue to compare everyone’s animation to Pixar, I’m going to be forced to compare their work to Satoshi Kon’s, and in that fight they have already lost.

On Behalf of Bad Films…

2009-04-25T16:02:00.001-07:00

Not too long ago, Toto asked for people to confess their guilty pleasures, which films they love to watch despite the fact that they are truly awful. This got me to thinking, and now I confess:

I am a lover of bad cinema.

I don’t mean the obvious disasters, like Plan 9 From Outer Space. No, I love the film gone wrong, that one that started with the best of intentions and went astray.

That’s the only way to explain why I think a wreck like Wanted is good. And if that’s not sufficient proof, consider that I can’t get enough of Hitman. The plot (choke, how did I even write that word in this context?) is laughable, the acting significantly short of sublime, and the writing...oh dear oh my. Yet I can’t get enough. Watched it again just the other night. All the while, I’m thinking how no one seems to notice these bald killers with bar codes tattooed on the back of their heads, and how in the hell do they conceal all those weapons under those snazzy coats (dual pistols, silencers, reloads, swords...two swords!) and...and...and I just don’t care.

There’s the truly bad, like Howard the Duck. I was a fan of comic book, at least the original color version, and I should be pissed off at how my duck was abused by this film. Thomas Dolby’s music makes teeth ache, and not in that pleasant way that some truly awesome punk can do; John Barry is squandered. ILM went to a lot of trouble to make special effects that are generally lacking in the “special” department and are minimally effective. They substituted various sites around the San Francisco Bay Area for, of all places, Cleveland, Ohio. What, I wasn’t supposed to recognize downtown Oakland?!?

And yet...

My love for well done bad movies explains why I can’t get enough of Underworld and Underworld Evolution (still waiting for the DVD of Underworld: Rise of the Lycans; complete with Rhona Mitra, who all alone justifies my loving Doomsday). At first I thought it was just Kate Beckinsale in latex, and while that might be enough, turns out there’s more. There has to be more because Jake Speedman is enough to undo all the good will Beckinsale earns; he sucks that hard.

There’s something deliriously marvelous about both films. I credit writer-director Les Wiseman, who insisted on practical (on the set) effects as much as possible. The result is that those enormous werewolves are actually on the set, fighting those vampires. Watch the behind the scenes footage; they actually get to walk around and growl! Tis a thing of joy, it is.

Like Timur Bekmambetov with Wanted, and maybe even Xavier Gens (though reports are that he was “fired” and film finished by someone else) with Hitman, the film exudes a sense that Wiseman was just having one hell of a good time. Maybe that’s it, the common thread making each of these films more enjoyable than their “quality” would lead you to expect.

Francois Truffaut once said:

I demand that a film express either the joy of making cinema or the agony of making cinema. I am not at all interested in anything in between.

And that’s it. For each of these films, I get a sense that the key people in charge, especially the directors, just love to make films. Even Hitman, which is another half-baked screen adaptation of a successful video game, just feels like everyone knows the entire thing is ludicrous, but, hey, let’s enjoy and look, we’re making cinema! w00t!

Now, I can’t take all bad cinema. I’m not a complete masochist. For instance, I survived one viewing of Battlefield Earth. Wow. I’ve tried to re-visit it, to see if it can join my little pantheon of marvelously horrible films, but alas, no. I get a few minutes into it and I just have to give up, at least when I’m sober. It’s a well known fact, however, that tequila makes almost anything palatable. I shall have to do further research.

Khan, the best Trek…ever

2009-04-12T22:13:00.001-07:00

Star Trek: Wrath of Khan is the best Star Trek film by a country mile, and just about the best Star Trek of any sort (TV, film, animation, books, whatever). It’s one of the highest ranked geek films ever, and deserves a broad audience, including those who routinely shrug at either Star Trek or science fiction in general. It is why Star Trek will always be better than Star Wars.

Director Nicholas Meyer had a simple attitude toward his project. He wasn’t interested in making a film about spaceships, but was intensely interested in making a film about the people inside the spaceship. From that simple notion came a landmark film that stands up against the best of both Trek and the best of science fiction.

The story was setup in the TV episode “Space Seed,” wherein a Captain James Kirk (William Shatner) met and defeated Khan Noonian Singh (Ricardo Montalban), a brutal dictator from 21st Century Earth. Rather than condemn Khan and his followers to a 23rd Century prison, Kirk allows Khan to choose to colonize the hostile but habitable Ceti Alpha V.

Some 15 years later, the starship Reliant is on a survey mission of the Ceti Alpha star system. They go down to the surface and are captured by Khan and what few of his followers are still alive. Shortly after Kirk left them, the planet was rendered uninhabitable. Khan’s followers have been dying, including his wife – a former member of Kirk’s crew. The Reliant provides Khan both a means of escape and, more to the plot, a means of exacting revenge on now-Admiral Kirk.

Meanwhile, we find that Kirk is suffering a mid-life crisis. He’s an admiral at the Starfleet Academy, the instructor you don’t want, and he’s rotting behind a desk. Consider, if you will, how it might feel to have been a young man of adventure, now only able to train and watch others head off for their own adventures. Much like a caged lion, Kirk is dying in bits and pieces.

A remarkable feature of the film is that Meyers never has the antagonists actually meet face-to-face. The closest they get is snarling at each other via a viewscreen. More often, they are a voice on the radio, each taking turns at taunting the other. This means their primary physical interaction is with members of their own crew, and the tensions that mount between them.

Khan’s subordinate wants to cut and run, leaving revenge either behind or for another day. But Khan’s obsession with Kirk is the same as Ahab’s toward Moby Dick, a theme made explicit by the number of times Khan quotes Melville.

Kirk not only has to shepherd a cadet crew, completely not ready for actual combat, but has to confront the indiscretions of his youth. He is reunited with one of his early loves and the son she told him to stay away from. In one of the film’s best moments, when all seems hopeless and lost, and she asks Kirk to tell her how he feels. He answers:

There’s a man out there who I haven’t seen in 15 years who’s trying to kill me. You show me the son who would gladly help him. How do I feel? Old…used up.

In that moment, Shatner is a superb actor. It’s a good moment for anyone, but for Trek fans, who have only seen Kirk in full swagger, it’s a blow to the solar plexus. Until that instant we’d never seen Kirk defeated, yet here he is, knocked down by a pair of attacks from his own past, from the outside by Khan and from the inside by his own son. These are direct repercussions of his past, his decisions, his choices, now returned not just to haunt him but to kill him. Yet, the worst is yet to come.

Return with me to 1982, when Khan premiered. While Star Trek: The Motion Picture made money, it left a bad taste in everyone’s mouth. Gene Roddenberry was removed as producer and Harve Bennett was put in charge. Khan was made on a shoestring budget.

But from the moment the credits began you knew you were in for something different. Unlike The Motion[less] Picture, Khan used Alexander Courage’s opening notes for the TV series. I swear, the audience immediately perked up. The film was well-paced, humorous, and simply delightful. When we got to that spot with Kirk being so defeated, I don’t think anyone was breathing. This film had successfully taken us somewhere Trek had never been.

Later, when Kirk stands, apple in hand, talking to Spock via communicator, people started laughing in honest relief. And then he utters that immortal line: “I don’t like to lose.” The audience went insane. Popcorn flew, people cheered; if they could, they would have danced in the aisles.

But Meyers can be a bit of a bastard. He took us along on this emotional rollercoaster, one that had already shown the Enterprise taking a pummeling, and made us sit there while he killed Spock. Not recklessly, not for shock effect, but as a logical result of the story, with Spock now doing what Kirk had always been willing to do, whatever was necessary to save his ship and his crew.

Star Trek: The Wrath of Khan is simply superb. No one can really be a Trekkie and think otherwise. Non-fans can enjoy the film because it doesn’t deal in techno-babble; it is, in a word, accessible. And it is great while being 100% faithful to all that led up to it.

I just wanted to make all this clear before May 8, 2009, when the Trek reboot premiers. Early comments and reviews are almost all positive, but every single one of them bows to Khan, the best Trek ever, which is exactly as it should be.

DVD: The Day the Earth Stood Still (2008)

2009-04-08T22:34:00.001-07:00

Awful.

The film is an environmentalist wacko wet dream. No one else could like this thing. I’m trying to think of something positive and all I can come up with is how positively awful it is.

The original The Day the Earth Stood Still is a science fiction masterpiece. In it, Klaatu comes to Earth with a simple message: Do what you want among yourselves and on your planet. But if you attempt to export your violent way to the stars, Gort and his friends will hit you with so many lefts you’ll beg for a right. (Gort being the cosmic version of Chuck Norris, you see.)

The ultimate warning was that we needed to change our violent ways if we expected to be accepted among the stars. In this remake, the aliens are environmental busy-bodies who have bought into the entire notion that we puny little humans are capable of destroying the planet. Therefore, we must be eliminated so that the planet, for God knows what reason, can try again.

To count the ways in which this film makes no sense whatsoever would: 1) require massive spoilers. And 2) be pointless. Suffice to say that you have to check your brain at the door before watching. Even then, since this wants to be a semi-intellectual film, it keeps tricking your brain into becoming involved. And then your brain suffers a seizure.

One small example: In one scene, Klaatu kills a cop, only to resurrect him a moment later. A few minutes after that, though, he knocks two helicopters out of the sky, killing the aircrews. Here, he turns his back and walks away without so much as an, “Excuse me.” Not that saving anyone makes any sense because pretty early on it’s clear that Klaatu’s real message is, “Die, die, kill you all!”

Matters aren’t helped by the acting. This was a role Keanu Reeves was meant for, because it required all the emotional depth of a plank. Okay, maybe it was a bit of a stretch for him. Yet he not only appears wooden and remote, he exudes an air of “I’m just here for the paycheck.”

Jennifer Connelly does a fine job filling out a pair of jeans, but beyond that she’s wasted. And speaking of waste, where did they get her “son”? More to the point: Why did they get her “son”?

I’m going to stop now because thinking any more about this film is liable to give me an aneurism.

Films I want on DVD

2009-04-08T12:17:00.001-07:00

In no particular order, these are a few films I’d buy in a heartbeat if they were on DVD.

Five Came Back (1939) – Lucille Ball in a very serious film. I haven’t seen this in decades, but I still remember the chilling conclusion, an ending where silence invokes a sense of horror and dread. This film must have had some subliminal influence on me because it wasn’t until I was discussing it one night that I came to realize how close it comes, in several ways, to my one published book, right down to the number of survivors. I had pitched Derelict as sort of a haunted house in outer space, a variation on an Alien theme, but in retrospect it was also influenced by this film.

Five Graves to Cairo (1943) – An early film by Billy Wilder, an excellent little World War II thriller. Franchot Tone is a British soldier, fighting Rommel’s Afrika Corps. The sole survivor of a disastrous engagement, he is saved from death by the owner of a small hotel in the middle of the Sahara. Before he can get too settled in, Rommel himself arrives, setting up base at the hotel. Now Tone must survive by impersonating a member of the hotel staff, a man killed during a bombing raid. Matters go from bad to worse as he discovers that the man he is impersonating was a spy for Rommel.

Tone is excellent. Anne Baxter, as a French woman working at the hotel, is excellent. Famed German director Erich von Stroheim, as Rommel, is excellent. The directing is excellent. The suspense is excellent. Am I being redundant? If you see and don’t like this film, well, two steps back!

Come Back, Charleston Blue (1972) – The sequel to Cotton Comes to Harlem (1970), which is already out of DVD. I’m not a big fan of Cotton, but I remember Come Back as all sorts of awesome. Godfrey Cambridge (as Gravedigger Jones) and Raymond St. Jacques (as Coffin Ed Johnson) are just fantastic. C’mon, how can you have the first one available and not the sequel? It’s just not right!

The 27th Day (1957) – An under-appreciated science fiction gem. Just saw this the other day on TCM and I still enjoy it. Five people are brought aboard and alien space craft. The aliens give each of them a weapon capable of destroying all life on Earth. After being returned to Earth, the five believe that all they have to do is remain quiet until the weapon self-destructs, after 27 days, but the aliens then tell the world who they are and what they have. Now they have to run, or risk having that terrible power unleashed.

Certainly it’s a little moralizing and maybe it’s simplistic, but really, wouldn’t you just like to be able to, well, eliminate all men of ill will?

The Satan Bug (1964) – A deadly virus, capable of destroying all life on Earth, is stolen from a research lab. Now, government agents must race to recover the virus before the thief can release it.

From the novel by Alistair MacLean. A lovely little thriller filled with smart characters. This really is about one person trying to out-think the other. It was also a bit of a shocker at the time of its release, as everyone was so focused on the threat of nuclear annihilation, they never considered that a simple glass flask could be just as lethal. Also notable for an excellent soundtrack by Jerry Goldsmith.

I was going to add Stairway to Heaven (1946), but I just discovered it at Netflix under its original title, A Matter of Life and Death. It’s already on its way to my greedy hands. Like Five Graves to Cairo, I saw this on PBS in San Francisco and found it to be delightful. The amazingly great David Niven plays a British aviator who bails out over the English Channel without a parachute. Next thing he knows, he’s walking onto an English beach, utterly confused as to why he’s still alive. Seems his angel missed him while he was falling through the fog. Now Heaven wants him, to correct for the error, and Niven has to stand trial before God in order to win a second chance at life.

Lovely film, beautifully done. No where near as sentimental as the plot implies. I can hardly wait to see it again.

(And yes, yes, I know that the entire Netflix thing undercuts the “buy in a heartbeat” claim, but I was being rhetorical. I at least have to wait until payday....)

Free at last, free at last?

2009-04-08T11:42:00.001-07:00

DRM-free, that is. April 7 is the official date when “all” of the music offered through iTunes is supposed to be free of Digital Rights Management (DRM). As with so much with Apple, this is both accurate and incomplete.

Certainly every song for sale from this date forth is DRM-free. What tech writers, reviewers, critics, and consumers are discovering, however, is that iTunes library has shrunk. There are tunes that are simply no longer available. So if you downloaded a DRM-protected file, there’s a possibility that you won’t be able to upgrade that tune to DRM-free; it’s simply not offered any more.

And I’m wondering how Apple’s variable pricing is going to work. I’m also wondering how critics who complained about Microsoft’s tiered pricing scheme will react. Is it okay now that Apple is doing it? Amazon has had variable pricing from the get-go, but I’m sure someone somewhere complained about that, too.

What’s interesting is that you can easily shop for cheap music at Amazon. The same can’t be said for iTunes. Ars Technica reported it needed Apple’s help to find a couple of albums offering songs at the new 69-cents per track costing. If a tech-savvy writer can’t find cheap music, what chance does the average user have?

No doubt it will improve. This is only day one, after all. In the long-term, though, I wonder how this will work out for Apple. Ars Technica also demoed that some music is now more expensive on iTunes relative to Amazon. Yes, it takes a wee bit more to get the music from Amazon, but you’re saving 30-cents a track. I think the extra click(s) are worth it.

The iTunes/iPod eco-system remains formidable, but it was formerly invulnerable due to DRM. DRM is now history, which makes that eco-system vulnerable. The consumer now has access to at least three major sources of music on-line: iTunes, Amazon, and eMusic. There’s also Rhapsody (where I found, of all things, the out-of-print soundtrack to Hell and High Water; amazing) and the Zune Marketplace (which is 90% DRM-free, and should be completely DRM-free Real Soon Now). Beyond these you can find a staggering variety of specialty shops (Deutshe Grammaphon comes to mind).

In the end, it’s all good. I might even re-install iTunes so I can go shopping if/when I want. I’d prefer everyone to adopt something like the Amazon web-based system, so I don’t have to install all this software, but hey, it’s great to have the options.

DVD: Quantum of Solace

2009-04-04T17:13:00.001-07:00

To call this film disappointing is to praise it with faint damnation. Is it horrible? No. But is it good? Well, no, not really, especially when compared to its immediate predecessor, Casino Royale.

Casino was a first step in re-launching the Bond franchise and it was a great film. Daniel Craig seemed born to play Bond in a way not seen since Sean Connery’s heyday. It’s biggest fault was its attempts to top the Bourne films, transforming Bond from suave and sophisticated to blunt and crude. Even there, though, the film showed Bond’s first steps towards sophistication and thus seemed to make a promise: Just wait until the next one!

Liars.

Quantum picks up minutes after the end of Casino, making this the first Bond sequel rather than just another episode in the series. The biggest mystery left over from Casino is who was behind Le Chiffre. Who were those bastards blackmailing Vesper? Just what the heck is going on?

And so Quantum starts off with Bond interrogating Mr. White, the guy he shot and captured at the end of Casino. Naturally, all goes wrong and we’re off and running.

More like plodding. Quantum has some nice set pieces, but for an action film it feels remarkably dull. Part of the problem is that the action sequences are the latest in the f-f-f-f-fast c-c-c-c-cutting style that makes you wonder if the editor suffered from a really, really bad stutter. Here is where the Bourne influence is the strongest, and on the Bourne scale it’s better than Ultimatum (which is the high-water mark of awfulness) but worse than either Supremacy (almost comprehensible) or Identity (pretty clear in retrospect). An opening car chase is relatively clear, but a subsequent foot chase is so bad you might as well go mix yourself a drink until it’s done. Matters are made all the worse by first-time Bond director Marc Forster intercutting the blurring Bond chase with blurring horse racing. Oh Forster, return to Stranger Than Fiction (a film I really enjoyed) and forget artsy action sequences. (I hope he gets World War Z right because zombies deserve clarity.)

Craig is still all sorts of awesome as Bond. But then, I think he’s all sorts of awesome in pretty much every film he’s in, so I’m biased. Craig is one of the best physical actors working today; at his best he reminds me of Burt Lancaster in this regard. Here, he continues to grow into Bond, acquiring a little more sophistication, by the end showing a willingness to occasionally let someone live. This is an important part of his learning curve.

The villain, played by Mathieu Amalric, is pathetic. No, really. He spends a lot of time speaking in a near-whine, making him about as sinister as a vacuum cleaner. He’s the reason why villains have brawny henchmen. Goldfinger had Odd Job; Drax had Jaws; Carver had Stamper. Here…? When he finally squares off against Bond you want to laugh out loud, the mismatch is that bad.

Olga Kurylenko is acceptable as a Bond girl; she can’t match Gemma Arterton as agent “Fields, just Fields,” though, and neither holds a smoldering twig to Eva Green.

And I was just plain pissed off at one, mercifully brief, scene, where Bond and Felix Leiter (with Jeffrey Wright returning to the role) lamenting the imperialistic ways of their respective nations. Oh, Paul Haggis (co-writer), can’t you just shut the hell up? One of the key differences between Bond and Bourne is that Bond stands and fights for something; Bourne has violent hissy fits. So this scene with Leiter makes absolutely no sense, especially since if that is how Bond truly feels then you are left to wonder why he remains in Her Majesty’s Secret Service.

So is there anything to like? Well, yes. Consider that the villain’s cover is as an environmentalist. And when he’s not trying to be physically intimidating, Amalric is all right. There is a moment, during a performance of the opera Tosca, where he and Bond face off and in and of itself it’s a little jewel of a Bond moment.

David Arnold is mostly successful with the film score, especially at the moments where he successfully channels John Barry. There are some stunning locales and when the camera is allowed to settle down, the cinematography is great. The plot resolves most of the issues remaining from Casino while leaving a number of loose strings for the next film. Oh, and there’s also Craig, Daniel Craig.

Which is fortunate because production of the next film has already been announced, and Craig has signed on for his third outing as Bond. Bond 23 is tentatively scheduled for release in 2010. If it picks up where this one leaves off, then we’ll see if the main problem with Quantum of Solace is that it’s the middle film of a trilogy, never an enviable position. If that’s the case, it’s merely a bridge, the B that takes us from A to C. And for that job, it does all right.

The Price of Vigilance

2009-03-27T23:19:00.001-07:00

Sit back, relax, join me in a thought exercise. Normally I’d ask you to close your eyes, but if you did that you couldn’t read the instructions.

Imagine you are sent to a foreign city, somewhere you’ve never been. It can be for most any reason: business, pleasure, etc. You are given a map that shows you the route from the airport to the hotel where you’ll be staying. So equipped, you start walking on your way. Over halfway to your destination, you face a long stretch of dark streets. You can see, off in the distance, the lights of your destination. Between you and it, though, all is dark. You have no choice, there is no other way, you must proceed along those dark streets to reach your destination. You step into the dark.

Imagine how you would feel. Imagine the emotions racing through your mind. Imagine how your senses would expand, how you would begin to pay more attention. Imagine how alert your senses might become, attentive for any sound of danger, ready to react in response to…anything.

Got it? Have you got the sensation in the pit of your stomach? Are the sensations clear?

Good, because that is a sample of how police work feels, that state of being ready for anything, always facing the unknown, and never quite sure what might happen next.

Today, the city of Oakland, California, laid to rest four of their best. They were slain last Saturday when the unknown rose up from the dark, confronted them, and won. Thousands, both police and citizens, turned out to pay their respects.

And if you the sneer at that, then remember that walk in the dark, and imagine that was your life, day or night, day after day, night after night.

My prayers to the families of those we have lost. God bless you and keep you for the sacrifice you have been asked to make.

Maybe it’s time to leave California

2009-03-21T15:43:00.001-07:00

Seriously.

I’m San Francisco born and bred, though I currently live in the Sacramento Valley. I’ve spent my entire life in California. I’ve visited hither and yon and have always returned to the Golden State.

I like it here. If you’re a motorcyclist, you’re never too far from a great riding road. If you like the sea, you’re never too far from the ocean, or some vast lake. If you like the mountains, well say hello to the Sierra Nevadas. If you like the desert, it’s right down there, and if you prefer gentle rolling hills, no problem.

Love cities? Fine, we can accommodate that, too. Bright lights, big city, welcome to this corner’s Starbucks, better than the next. And did I mention movie stars, glitz, and glamour? And politics? Oh, boy, do we have politics.

Which is the problem.

California politics aren’t just left-wing – and they’re not even extremely left-wing if you really look at them – they are insane. There is a complete sense of disconnect from reality. “Let us initiate this policy.” But we don’t have the money. “It is a nice policy, isn’t it wonderful.” How can we afford this? “This policy is wonderful.” The state is functionally bankrupt. “Yes, this policy is superb.”

The broadest range of tax increases in state history, possibly the largest ever seen in any state, has just been enacted. There is more to come. I’ve seen the bills, including the ones that didn’t pass. This time. It’s bad, it’s getting worse, the worst is yet to come.

This May will see a set of ballot measures, placed their by the Legislature, all dealing with the state budget. One of these measures is a token attempt at getting a grip on the state’s monetary swings. “Token” is a generous description, but it’s a state constitutional amendment and requires voter approval.

If the voters approve this, do you know what their reward will be? Several tax increases will remain in effect 1-2 years longer. For having the audacity of hinting that maybe there should be a vague notion of an idea of a meager spending cap – and it’s not even really that – we will get socked with higher taxes for more years.

Oh, jolly.

The sales tax is about to have another percentage point tacked on (it will exceed 8%; the national average is 5%). Vehicle registration fees are about to double (and California is already insanely out of sync with even neighboring states). Gas taxes are being left alone…so far, but the idea is still in play. Income taxes are going up, not just on the “wealthy,” the state’s favorite target, but across the board. Lottery revenue that was supposed to be for school’s will be able to be redirected to wherever they see fit. Tobacco tax revenue that was supposed to be for pre-school programs will be able to be redirected, as long as the redirect has some vague connection with kids.

As King says, “Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.”

Unemployment has risen to over 10% and shows no sign of slacking. California state revenue relies heavily on taxing the wealthy – you know, Obama’s favorite target – but they took a major hit when the stock market crashed. Guess what that did to state revenues? Oh, and they can just leave the state and forget the entire hassle, so off they go.

The nation’s economy isn’t all that great, but California’s is beginning to resemble that of a failed banana republic’s. What should terrify the rest of the country is that the precise formula that led to this mess in California is what Obama, Pelosi, Reid, et al, want to apply at the national level. Fun for all?

So maybe it’s time to consider another state. Though Washington is liberal, it is not insane, and Colorado is simply beautiful. Who knows about elsewhere. I’m sure there’s a budget office out there for me, I can watch movies anywhere, and all I need for writing is time and space.

Or maybe I’m feeling particularly depressed and letting cynicism get the better of me. For the moment.

So for now, I’ll go to a friend’s late Saint Patrick’s Day party, enjoy a black and tan or two, and continue to contemplate the whichness of why.

Who can stand to watch the Watchmen?

2009-03-16T19:43:00.001-07:00

Debbie Schussel calls it depraved.

Kyle Smith calls it brilliant.

Barbara Nicolosi walked out.

John Nolte likes it and Movie Bob thinks it may be better than The Dark Knight.

A friend went to see it during its opening weekend; she was utterly confused. Meanwhile, her daughter walked out. I’ve finally seen Watchmen and I think it may be brilliant. Hard to say, though.

I’ve read the Alan Moore graphic novel. This gives me an advantage over the average viewer, but I think anyone paying attention can easily follow along. The problem for the average viewer, though, is that they’ll go in expecting to see another comic book, action hero thriller, e.g., Iron Man or Spider Man. Surprise, it ain’t!

Let me get some negatives out of the way. Watchmen reaches new depths of excess. One of the things I found truly imaginative about The Dark Knight was how it didn’t show us things. It was stuffed to the eyeballs with violence, but blood didn’t spray across the screen, we didn’t see bones jutting from ripped flesh, and – watch real close – you did not see a pencil go into a man’s eye. All of these things were heavily implied, but we were spared the gory details.

Watchmen revels in the gory details, including, but not limited to, sprays of blood, ripped flesh, jutting bones, seared flesh, people burning alive, and, oh, the random bullet to the head.

This isn’t really surprising. Director Zack Snyder is merely showing us his horror roots (Dawn of the Dead) and repeating himself (300). He needs to get out more. Too much is, more often than not, simply too much. It’s a valid argument that sometimes restriction (i.e., a production code) can often force imaginations to work overtime to produce genius. Here, Snyder does the gross-out thing because, well, he can. Whoopee.

Most of the actors are weak, especially given the weight they need to carry. This is made all the more apparent by two stand-out performances – Jeffrey Dean Morgan as The Comedian and Jackie Earle Haley as Rorschach – and one near-stand-out, Billy Crudup as Dr. Manhattan.

And really, this is where the film turns for me. When I read the book, I was captured by the pure no compromise nature of Rorschach and here, on screen, it’s captured perfectly. Haley is pure genius, someone who has more menace in his detached, calm stare than most have in their snarls. Who couldn’t be chilled when he warns both prison guards and prisoners: “None of you seem to understand: I’m not locked in here with you. You’re locked in here with ME!” He’s matched only by how the Comedian smiles as he annihilates people.

And the Comedian isn’t in contrast as a variation on the theme. Where Rorschach’s view of the world turns him into an inflexible vigilante, with no sense of compromise even in the face of Armageddon, the Comedian becomes an amoral one. When either character is on the screen, it’s amazing. You are forced to view the extreme possibilities of what life would be like if a caped crusader actually walked among us. Where The Dark Knight shows us the degree of moral conviction you would have to have, Watchmen shows us the results if you don’t. These are costumed vigilantes gone insane.

The film is inconsistent in spots, almost ridiculous, but then, so is the source material. For all of the ideas Moore wanted to put into his story, he didn’t understand some basics about American life or politics. In the film, the actors who play Nixon and his entourage are ludicrous, almost as bad as the concept of Nixon getting re-elected five times. I never once believed the world was heading toward nuclear annihilation. The only way you’d fall for the setup is if you believe Nixon was evil. Moore obviously does, and the film is faithful to that vision. Too faithful. (Nice recreation of The War Room from Dr. Strangelove, though.)

Eventually, though, Rorschach comes back on and all is well. By the film’s climax, I was sold. The changes made to the book’s end work perfect in context of the film. By then I’d forgotten about the excess guts and gore, the silliness of Nixon, and even the weakness of the other actors. I was left with that look on Rorschach's face as he confronts Dr. Manhattan, that pure human cry matched against a force detached from humanity.

This is a dense film, filled to the brim with ideas wrapped in excess. If a film may be measured with how it haunts you after you’ve seen it, then Watchmen is very successful, because I find myself thinking about it still. This will be an instant own on DVD so I can dissect whether it really is brilliant, or merely the next step down the road of depravity, a new low in bread and circuses.

Ironically, I suspect that Rorschach would say the latter.

The Angst of Trek?

2009-03-08T11:50:00.001-07:00

Angst - Focusing on anxiety that leaves the character full of doubt and uncertainty.

The new (and reportedly final) trailer for the upcoming Star Trek is online at Apple trailers. Check it out here. The film is due in theaters 5/8/09.

This trailer simply rocks, for the first time making me excited about seeing the film. And yet, I can’t help being apprehensive. I’ve been a Trekkie since before there was such a thing. I watched the very first episode when it very first aired way back when. I watched the salt vampire try and suck Kirk dry, saw Spock attempt to smack it around, and saw McCoy blast it into eternity. I was hooked.

Despite that, and my continued love of the show and several of the movies it spawned (everybody scream, “Khan!”), I’m not so fanatical as to object to any change. From what I’ve gleaned of the plot for this film, it sounds pretty intriguing. A Romulan is apparently more than a little pissed at how things have turned out for his planet. To correct things, he travels back in time to rid the universe of the two things that have, in his mind, set back the Romulan empire: James T. Kirk and the entire planet Vulcan.

That’s right, as we always suspected, Kirk is at least as important as an entire planet.

It’s a neat setup. Kirk’s parents are killed so Kirk is raised by an asshole of an uncle. As a result, instead of the confident swaggering Kirk we’re used to, we meet little jerk Kirk. You get a hint of all that in the trailer, btw, so I’m not spoiling too much. And maybe the rumors I’ve read are all wrong. Doesn’t matter, because if the storyline really is about jerk Kirk trying to set things right in the universe, this could still be a neat flick.

The problem I’m having is one of attitude. In the original Trek, Kirk & Co. joyously faced the unknown in episode after episode. There was an irresistible optimism, not just that the future would be brighter, but in the sheer joy of exploration and discovery.

Where’s it all gone?

I can understand why Bruce Wayne broods, why Peter Parker pouts. I can even understand why the new Superman sulks. But more and more, this entire self-involved, angst-ridden, self-involved, narcissistic attitude is dominating film characters. I suppose they call this depth, but a little goes a long way and instead we’re getting it by the bucket loads. It annoys the crap out of me that it appears to be invading Star Trek.

Now, you could argue that in the very best Trek ever made (scream it with me, “Khan!”) Kirk was suffering a bout of angst. It was more a mid-life crisis, though, and he had the years to justify it. Besides, the old joy come back as the story unwound, even in the face of death, especially in the face of death. If you count in the next two films, thus making a little trilogy, you see that by the end Kirk & Co. are reborn. Doubt me? Watch how Kirk and Spock march out of Federation HQ at the end of The Voyage Home. They are in confident lock-step, about to return to their natural element, the bridge of a starship traveling deep into uncharted space.

Maybe I need to think this through, maybe it’s not this bad, maybe I only feel this way every time I see the new Kirk’s kiddie-like face as he squats into the captain’s chair (is deep in brood or is he about to make a doo-doo?) because the rest is beginning to look sooo good.

Besides, I suppose I can treat this rendition of Trek like I had to treat Conan the Barbarian. John Milius re-conceived much of Conan, too (OMG, Conan a slave?!?!), but I eventually embraced the changes, but it took a bit.

Maybe that will happen here, but I sort of doubt it. Writer-director-producer J.J. Abrams has as much as, “This is not your father’s Star Trek.” Well, my father never liked Trek (except for, and let’s hear you shout it, “Khan!”), it was always my show.

While honoring the past, Abrams wants to re-establish Trek as something new and different, and he’s apparently doing so by given Kirk a major make-over.

One apparently fraught with angst.

Taken

2009-02-27T20:16:00.001-08:00

I know Taken has been out for a few weeks, but what can I say? I’m always late to the new release party. I have no excuse.

What I do have are a particular set of skills.

You know, sometimes it’s just fun to watch bad guys get the crap kicked out of them for no other reason than they are bad. Some people are very good at doing just that.

Skills I have acquired over a lifetime.

And at the same time, it’s fun to watch one of your favorite actors take on the role of the ass kicker. For example, it was all kinds of awesome watching Charles Bronson at work in Death Wish. It was amazing watching the hunters (muggers) become the prey.

Skills that make me a nightmare for people like you.

Here, that actor is Liam Neeson, someone I’ve enjoyed watching since I first saw him as an Irish terrorist on Miami Vice. He’s a marvel at playing a suave gentleman, whose face can be open and warm one moment, then close, frozen, and lethal in the next. Here, he plays a tired and retired CIA professional. The asses he is kicking traffic in involuntary sex slaves. He’s a man of simple wants and desires.

If you let my daughter go, that will be the end of it.

When his 17-year-old daughter travels to Paris, she is kidnapped by the asses in need of kicking. Neeson has to listen to this happen over the phone. There’s not a lot he can do since, at the time, he’s in Los Angeles. Nonetheless, he does know what needs to be done.

But if you don’t, I will hunt you.

And so he’s off to Paris, seeking targets for his very large boots. And fists. And an assortment of weapons he finds along the way, including two very large nails, used in a rather imaginative, if direct, way.

I will find you.

Naturally, he finds them, otherwise there’s not much of a plot. He is, after all, a man of his word.

And I will kill you.

In a way, Taken plays out like a modern “re-imagining” of The Searchers, but it’s much more visceral, lacking any contemplative tone. It’s also relentlessly anti-PC. The villains are either of Albanian or Middle Eastern extract. I know, you’re saying, “Well, they do tend to traffic in sex slaves, don’t they, so isn’t this rather, er, authentic?” Perhaps, but those who traffic in identity politics rather eagerly took offense at Taken, and so we must acknowledge it’s relentless ability to tweak PC noses.

It is, for the record, also less than kind to the French, who, in the film, seem perfectly willing to cooperate with – and profit from – this horrific trade.

But who cares? This is a film written and produced by Luc Besson, so it is guaranteed to have some level of the ridiculous. It’s also directed by Pierre Morel, who directed the deliriously enjoyable District B13. In short, Taken is all about the action and not a lot about the thinking. It delivers.

It has some problems, most involving how the action sequences are spliced together. Is it too much to ask that we bring an end to the era of shaky cam? I know I’m not the only one making this complaint. It was all right in the first Bourne film, kind of acceptable in the second, and completely horrible in the third. Here, it likes somewhere between 2 and 3 on the Bourne shakeometer scale. This is especially egregious given how cleanly Morel staged his action sequences in District B13.

The film does make a good effort toward making some amount of sense. You can at least follow along on most of the clues Neeson is developing, enough so that you can accept when A leads to 62. This is unlike other, more allegedly intelligent action films, like the horrible third Bourne film. (I keep bringing up the Bourne films because they’ve somehow become some sort of gold standard for action films, when it reality they went downhill like a nitro fueled bowling ball. If you really want to establish a gold standard, please use Kill Bill: Vol. 1, especially the Showdown at the House of Blue Leaves. My opinion, for what it’s worth.)

So, alas, Taken will never be nominated for an Academy award, and that’s all right. It’s that sort of anti-Oscar film that easily rules the box office and the hearts of its fans. There’s little fluff to the story or the film. It knows what it’s about and gets right to business, with just enough heart to allow us to cheer for Neeson.

There are worse ways to spend 90 minutes of your time; at the moment, they’re aren’t many that are better.

DVD: The Right Stuff

2009-02-20T15:29:00.001-08:00

Today marks the 47th anniversary of John Glenn’s flight into space. Last Friday was Chuck Yeager’s 86th birthday. To celebrate both, it was only natural that I watch The Right Stuff.

Written and directed by Philip Kaufman (from the book by Tom Wolfe), the film chronicles the early days of the United States manned space effort. Like the book, however, it starts with test pilots, specifically Chuck Yeager. In 1947, the US is looking for a way to break the sound barrier. They design an experimental rocket plane, the X-1, which they believe is the right tool for the job. Now they just need a pilot, and they find Yeager.

Kaufman, at the time a San Francisco Bay Area-based independent filmmaker, successfully made what is almost an anti-epic epic. While a big-screen production in every way, The Right Stuff has a certain gritty, indie film vibe to it. The majority of the film was done in the SF Bay Area. Kaufman sought, as much as possible, to use locations that were a close match to where the real events happened. Key scenes at air bases were shot at the deactivated Hamilton Air Force Base in Marin County. The hospital where the astronaut candidates are examined was a condemned military hospital in San Francisco. Other scenes were shot in some of San Francisco’s older buildings, and Glenn’s ticket tape parade was duplicated in SF’s financial district. Kaufman seemed to want to avoid working LA in much the same way as so many of us want to avoid the plague.

The special effects company was formed from Colossal Pictures, an SF animation house. For the film, co-owner Gary Gutierrez formed USFX. He and Kaufman opted for a non-traditional way of creating the flying sequences. Or, more accurately, they returned to a very old fashioned way: They threw models through the air and filmed them with hand-held cameras. It’s astounding how well that worked, especially when combined with actual documentary footage from the period.

For the most part, the cast was made up of little known actors. Some have gone on to become major stars, including Sam Shepard (as Yeager), Scott Glenn (as Alan Shepard), Ed Harris (as Glenn), and Dennis Quaid (as Gordon Cooper). The real Chuck Yeager played Fred, a regular at the Happy Bottom Riding Club (a key facet of life at what would become Edwards Air Force Base). And in the trivia department, both of Zooey Deschnel’s parents worked on The Right Stuff. Her father, Caleb, was director of photography, while her mother, Mary Jo, played Anne, John Glenn’s wife.

This is one of my favorite films. It plays very well on home theatre systems, but is amazing on the big screen. I first saw it during its original release in 1983, at the now-defunct Northpoint Theatre in SF. The screen was huge, the Dolby sound perfect, and the experience unforgettable. The film grabs your attention from the moment you hear that simple opening beat from Bill Conti’s Oscar-winning score.

I do have some quibbles. I wish the film had eased up on Gus Grissom a bit. Yes, there’s the question that maybe he panicked and blew open his capsule’s hatch too soon, resulting in its loss at sea, but the book is gentler here. Grissom, later killed in the Apollo 1 fire, deserves a little more benefit of the doubt. The film does redeem him, and itself, later on, but still, the actual interrogation scenes area painful to watch. Also, while I’m not a massive Lyndon Johnson fan, he was played a little too much as a clown.

Others have complained that the film ridicules the early space effort too much. While I agree, to an extent, I believe the film successfully has it both ways. At the beginning of the space program, we had no idea what flight in space would be like, and therefore had no idea who would qualify and what to test for. So we looked at everyone and tested for everything. From a modern perspective, it’s all rather silly and amusing, and Kaufman allows events to play that way. In the meanwhile, those involved are deadly serious, perplexed by what’s going on but accepting of the risks and extremes. While we have our laughs for a while, we come to realize that the coming endeavor is fraught with lethal unknowns.

The cinematography is superb, the editing spot on, the sound so integral that it’s near impossible to imagine seeing this film without surround sound. Conti’s score is iconic, and it’s tragic that it’s never been released for sale (that thing that was combined with his music for North and South doesn’t count). In the whole, the film pulls us into a time when we dared great things, not even realizing just how great they were. Two of the film’s best moments are its quietest: When Yeager talks with his wife while they stand in the burned out ruins of the bar, and Glenn talking to his wife about the importance of what they’re trying to do.

The Right Stuff takes the technological explorations of aviation and space, and presents them as very human endeavors. These were men, willing and eager to hurl their bodies through the air, all for the sake of seeing what it was like, and, yes, for some personal aggrandizement. They were driven by something more, though, and you can hear it in little ways; from Yeager (“Count me in.”) to Shepard (“Sounds dangerous…sign me up.”) to Glenn (“We’re ready, 100%.”) They knew the risks, both to themselves and to their families, stepped up, and got to work.

If you ever get the chance to see The Right Stuff at a proper theatre, go. Until then, pick up the DVD, tune up your home theatre system, and sit back to enjoy a great film. You don’t often see work of this caliber, and it’s unlikely we’ll see a story of this sort ever again.

Want to see a horror film? See Eden Lake

2009-02-16T23:47:00.001-08:00

But before I get to that, let me say this: I don’t really like horror films. Tonight reminded me why. Christian Toto wrote encouragingly about two: Rogue and Eden Lake. I saw Rogue a couple of weeks ago and held off writing about until I’d seen Eden Lake. Well, that was tonight.

Rogue is one of the best man-versus-seriously-nasty-beast films since, well, Jaws. What’s startling is that very little happens during the first 30 minutes or so, yet I was staring at my screen in rapt attention. It’s damn near a travelogue for the Northern Territory of Australia. It’s mind-bogglingly beautiful, yet somehow, amidst all this light and beauty, in wide open spaces, claustrophobia builds, a sense of dread creeps in, and in a splash, a man disappears and no one know how. He’s just…gone.

Like Bruce the shark, the crocodile in Rogue is within the realm of the possible. What makes the situation horrifying is that the creature’s motivation is simple: Humans have invaded his territory and he will continue to kill until either they are all dead or the survivors have left. What differentiates Rogue from Jaws is that there is no great hunter out to kill the beast. This is not an adventure. This is an attempt to survive. Don’t try and assume who will live and who will die; odds are you’re wrong.

Radha Mitchell is great as the tour guide whose little boat tour goes astray. (As an aside, it was marvelous to finally hear her native Australian accent.) Watching her growing uncertainty as to what’s going on and what to do about us brings us right into the story. Michael Vartan is great as a travel writer who finds himself with much more than a short article about the Northern Territory.

What I really appreciated about the film was the slow sense of dread. Once we find ourselves in the croc’s lair, the slow way it moves about is just perfect. The visual effects are excellent, letting you just marvel at this killing machine as it oh-so-slowly creeps by. Hold your breath, please don’t make a sound, it might get angry.

Then again, I think I’d rather face the croc than Eden Lake. Eden Lake is why I don’t like horror films and that’s because a good horror film is first and foremost horrifying. Slasher flicks like Friday the 13th just aren’t, at least not to me. They’re just body counts.

Eden Lake is the real deal. The setup is simple: Michael Fassbender takes Kelly Reilly to a remote lake in order to propose marriage. It’s meant to be a romantic weekend together but they run afoul of a group of kids. From there, things go very, very wrong.

Did I say “kids”? Yes, with several young enough that in California the courts would presume that they are incapable of committing a crime. And yet…

What results is a taut, smart, nail-biting experience. The film never strays into the absurd. What I appreciated most was the degree to which events were foreshadowed. You can pick up on where things are heading and that only adds to the tension. I watched this with several friends, all of whom started saying, in unison, “Oh no” as everyone realized where things were going.

Which is not to say that the film is predictable, because it’s not. As said, it’s smart, not just smartly done. Writer/Director James Watkins uses subtlety as much as gore to get your attention. Pay attention to little character notes and you’ll be rewarded in the end.

And in the end I was left with a scream, the sort that comes from a film, gets under your skin, into your head, and leaves you…disturbed. This is why I generally don’t like horror films, because when they’re done right you are horrified. That’s exactly what Eden Lake does, and it does so without zombies, masked unstoppable killers, or even buckets and buckets of gore.

If that’s the sort of film you like, I can’t recommend Eden Lake enough. For myself, I’m going to watch some comedies in an attempt to take the edge off.

And get that scream out of my head.

Me and Zune

2009-02-03T19:09:00.001-08:00

I am sooo behind in posting. Any moment now I’ll post a few thoughts on horror films, a genre I used to say I disliked. But an honest evaluation of what I like to watch, and write, tells me otherwise, especially given some of the great examples I’ve seen recently. More later.

For now, some minor notes. First, I finally caved and bought a Zune. I searched high and low (i.e., went to a local Fry’s) and found an 80GB model. Since the 120 can’t handle all of my library, and I felt even the 16GB was a little too restrictive, I hunted down a deal on an 80GB, and voila, there is was. As an added bonus, the 80GB came with deluxe headphones, which are now a $40 option. So I got the player at a discounted price, plus an upgraded set of headphones. Score for me!

I opted for Zune over, say, iPod because of the desktop software. For me, a player is a player, so it came down to how the desktop software handled my library and how I could access new music. iTunes has become such a beast, and frankly boring. I was attracted to the notion of subscription music via the Zune Marketplace, and so far that’s proving interesting. If I want to “own” a song I can still purchase it, either via the Marketplace or Amazon or wherever. And for my $15 a month I can download and preview literally millions of songs. If I want, I can opt to keep up to 10 a month, meaning my subscription is essentially $5 a month. Such a deal!

This is especially so since I seldom listen to the radio (well, except for Jack FM; how can I resist?) and so am completely out of touch with what’s new in the music world. The Zune Marketplace comes complete with “channels” that I can subscribe to, sampling music according to a variety of musical tastes. If I find someone I like, I can explore from there. It’s like my own little radio station that I control.

My only complaint is that on my machine, the desktop software can sometimes be a massive resource hog, even slowing itself down. Which is strange. It’s kind of a buzz kill but not (yet) a deal breaker.

As for player itself, it’s great. I don’t miss the EQ function, and much prefer to Zune pad to the iPod click-wheel. When I’ve got everything in place I’ll play with the wi-fi features to allow wireless syncing and playback through my stereo and TV. Good times ahead!

Of course, this may all go to hell in a hand basket given that Zune sales fell 54% last year. In the meantime, I’ll enjoy the ride.

In further news, I’m bidding adieu to AT&T and my faithful 8525 Windows Mobile phone. I’ve opted for T-Mobile so I can own a G1 because it, the Android operating system, and I are just that geeky. A friend who works at Apple owns one just so he can sneer at all the iPhone owners. I played with his phone for over an hour and was just thoroughly geeked out about it. Oh, and it’s a decent phone, too. I love the notification bar, the text messaging, the available applications, etc.

I’m not sure how I’ll handle my task list, and I’m hoping Evernote gets their G1 client out soon, but aside from that I’m set. My Gmail contacts will sync automatically, along with my Google calendar (both of which already automatically sync with my desktop Outlook). So my transition to the G1 should be (relatively) painless.

So now I’ll return to work, listening to Ba Cissoko’s cover of “Sunday Bloody Sunday,” and return in a bit with my thoughts on horror.

Oh dear, Obamacles?!?

2009-01-27T22:13:00.001-08:00

The Idiossey:

Speak to me, O Muse, of this resourceful man
who strides so boldly upon the golden shrine of Potomac,
Between Ionic plywood columns, to the kleig light altar.
Fair Obamacles, favored of the gods, ascends to Olympus
Amidst lusty tributes and the strumming lyres of Media;
Their mounted skyboxes echo with the singing of his name
While Olbermos and Mattheus in their greasy togas wrassle
For first honor of basking in their hero’s reflected glory.
Who is this man, so bronzed in countenance,
So skilled of TelePrompter, clean and articulate
whose ears like a stately urn’s protrude?
So now, daughter of Zeus, tell us his story.
And just the Cliff Notes if you don’t mind,
We don’t have all day.

Iowahawk transcribes The Pledge:

2009-01-20T23:43:00.001-08:00

Ah yes, about the pledge….

Rush transcript of the celebrity Pledge of Obama Allegiance video (for educational purposes only)

[Fade in; cue pseudo-soulful electric piano dirge]

Courtney Cox and her husband, what’s-his-name: I pledge.

Demi Moore: I pledge.

Cameron Diaz: Me pledge too!!

Courtney Cox: To end hunger in America.

Mr. Courtney Cox: By ordering smaller endive portions from craft services.

Absolutely amazing. Hilarious, too.

Windows 7

2009-01-18T22:06:00.001-08:00

And so here I sit, playing on my old computer, now running Microsoft Windows 7 Beta (Build 7000). It’s rather amazing, considering that this same machine was disqualified to run Vista.

Very pretty, very smooth, only a hint of hesitation while some things run. What’s interesting right off the bat is that it’s not annoying. Every time I touch a Vista machine, it’s vaguely annoying. Things are moved around for no particular reason, as compared to XP. My son says I’m nuts…sorta. He’s been running Vista since the day it was available, built a machine on his own to handle it, and has never had a major issue. Eventually, though, he agrees that some things were changed for no good, or readily apparent reason.

That’s yet to happen with me and Win7. There actually appears to be rhyme to the reason, or is that reason to the rhyme. Whatever. Bottom line is that for the few things I’ve done so far, I’m gone to the right menu, the right window, and voila, there’s what I’ve been looking for. Even changing the default boot partition, allowing me to return to (nice, stable, solid, familiar) XP was easy.

In short, so far, so good. Obviously I need to start saving up for a real Win7 machine, something capable of running the 64-bit version. Joi!

Hitchens: Assassins of the Mind

2009-01-07T17:42:00.001-08:00

Christopher Hitchens, on today's self-censorship:

So there is now a hidden partner in our cultural and academic and publishing and broadcasting world: a shadowy figure that has, uninvited, drawn up a chair to the table. He never speaks. He doesn’t have to. But he is very well understood. The late playwright Simon Gray was alluding to him when he said that Nicholas Hytner, the head of London’s National Theatre, might put on a play mocking Christianity but never one that questioned Islam.

All because, as Hitchens points out, the free press, the alleged defenders against censorship and repression of free expression, have surrendered to thugs.

Catching up...

2009-01-06T15:41:00.001-08:00

Before I forget, again, belated:

Happy Hanukkah!

Merry Christmas!

Happy New Year!

I haven't seen many films lately, going to see only one at the theatre. Someone else paid, so I ended up seeing The Tale of Despereaux, drawn to the flame by my love of animation.

Animation has different styles, just as different directors bring a distinct style to their works. This is oft-times strange in animation because they are such collaborative processes. Nonetheless, everyone can recognize a Disney cartoon from a Warner's. In the modern world, Pixar films have a familiar sheen to them, distinct from what Dreamworks is cranking out, etc.

Despereaux is unique and, to my eyes, beautiful. It feels lush, rich, and alive. I can't say enough good things about the artistry and craft that went into the look, feel, and animation of this film.

Would that I could say the same about the rest.

The characters are flat, the story never seems to begin, and when it does it goes nowhere. Slowly. It's as though the writers, having started to introduce a character, run out of things to do and rather than work through the block opted instead to introduce a new character. Yeah, that'll fool 'em! The film ends up feeling like Start, start, start, start, start, End.

How can you mess up a story about a mouse that refuses to be a mouse? How can you go wrong with a story involving a mouse who won't scurry or cower? If you watch the trailer for this film you see all that could have gone so very right. Unfortunately, none of that setup is really used for anything. Despereaux, the titular mouse, is just presented as being. No growth, no development, he just is. The one character who might go through a story arc, the rat Roscuro who actually launches and ends the film, isn't allowed to.

Kids might find this entertaining, but I doubt even that because kids are very good at spotting a con. I was in a theatre surrounded by kids, lots of kids, of all shapes and sizes, and none of them seemed engaged by the film. No claps, no cheers, no squeals of joy. The pretty pictures kept them busy, but that's about it. Their parents, meanwhile, were desperately looking toward the exits.

Sad, really, because those pictures are beautiful to look at. I just wish everything else had been up to par.

Deep Throat croaks

2008-12-20T14:59:00.001-08:00

W. Mark Felt passed away this last week. A few years ago he revealed himself as "Deep Throat," Woodward and Bernstein's anonymous source for their investigative reporting into Watergate. Their reporting gave rise to Congressional investigations into misconduct by President Richard Nixon, who, in response to pending impeachment proceedings, resigned from office.

I won't debate the sins of Richard Nixon, or the swelled heads of Woodward and Bernstein, and I sure as hell won't join the ranks of those who consider Felt some sort of hero. The reason is simple: He's not a hero.

Felt was a deputy director the Federal Bureau of Investigation. He acted as he did out of pure spite. He was resentful that Nixon didn't appoint him as the new FBI director after Hoover died. Snitching on Nixon was not an act of patriotism or courage, it was an act of revenge.

He couldn't have objected to the wiretaps or break-ins. After all, Felt himself authorized lots of illegal wiretaps. You might know of one particularly famous one. It resulted in Bill Ayers, domestic terrorist and high-ranking member of the murderous Weather Underground, being able to walk out of court and crow, "Guilty as sin, free as a bird."

So no, Felt didn't have a problem with dirty tricks, but he did have a problem with Nixon. Woodward and Bernstein gave him a way to "solve" that problem.

Putting all that aside, Felt is no hero because he betrayed the very oath he took upon joining the FBI. And no, I don't mean that he revealed secrets. I mean that he knew Nixon was acting illegally and refused to act in his official capacity.

Imagine a cop sitting in his patrol car, watching a robbery, and doing nothing except reporting it to the local newspaper.

That is what Felt did.

Felt was obligated by his profession and his oath to go after Nixon, but he didn't. Instead, he opted to act in such a way that he could exact revenge on a sitting president, while continuing to receive all the benefits of his position and rank.

He's not a hero, he's contemptible.

May Mr. Felt rest in peace. My prayers and condolences for his family and friends. But he's no hero; not then, not now, not ever.

New Guilty Pleasure: Wanted

2008-12-15T22:52:00.001-08:00

How does one justify liking a movie that is, more often than not, incoherent on its own terms? That pretty consistently lacks any character that you give a good damn for? That has visuals that blur vision and defy reality, physics, and even the norms of acceptable behavior?

Well, why bother? For reasons not quite within my comprehension, I actually enjoyed Wanted. Part of it was, no doubt, due to the director Timur Bekmambetov, who also did Night Watch and Day Watch, another pair of guilty pleasures. Those movies are also pretty incoherent, yet embrace a certain poignancy that makes all the noise worth the effort. Wanted hasn't got the poignancy, and yet...

The setup is fairly straight-forward. There exists a group known as The Fraternity of Assassins. They've been around for over a thousand years, initially as a band of weavers. Over the centuries they have been engaging in a series of selective assassinations, killing those who are designated to die. How are they chosen? By -- and I love this -- the Loom of Fate.

This is awesomely ridiculous! As the loom weaves a tapestry, it occasionally makes a tiny error. How the threads are mislaid creates a binary code. That code, in turn, names targets, and off the members of The Fraternity go, following the orders of Fate itself. Or are they? You have to have a question like that or else what's a plot for?

The film begins with a fairly horrible voice-over narration by our main character, played by James McAvoy. McAvoy is stuck in a job that defines "horrific dead end" and his salvation is his discovering that he's the son of the greatest assassin The Fraternity has ever had. Now The Fraternity needs him because he just might be the only one capable of killing his father's killer.

His "recruiter" is Angelina Jolie, who tosses aside her Lara Croft accent and almost avoids utilizing her signature slinking about advancing behavior. Almost. She introduces Morgan Freeman, the leader of The Fraternity, the man who reads the fabric spun by the Loom of Fate, and thus the man who issues the orders. McAvoy opts to quit his crappy job in spectacular fashion, including smashing his "best friend" in the face with a computer keyboard. In a typical Bekmambetov flourish, the keyboard shatters with broken letters spelling in the air just what it is that McAvoy is saying to his friend: "F*ck you." That final "u," by the way, is a bloody upside-down tooth.

McAvoy's training is incoherent. It consists mostly of his being beaten to a pulp, slashed with knives, and spending hours in some sort of healing wax so he can start all over again the next day, good as new, right as rain. Somehow as a result of all this sado-masochistic behavior he becomes a superb gunfighter, one capable of curving bullets, a process that allows him to hit a target that is behind an obstruction. This curving is The Fraternity's signature move, something you get to see over and over. And over. And over. Again. And again.

There's no reason for me to like this film, or even recommend it. Writing about its characters and plot almost mandates adding the word "stupid" in every other phrase. By any objective measure, it is Hitman bad. And yet, I was hooked. I meant to watch just a little bit and, instead, stayed up way too late to finish the entire film. Come to think of it, the same thing happened when I watched the DVD of Hitman. Damnitall....

Maybe it was the Danny Elfman song, "The Little Things," that you first hear on the DVD's menu screen:

Have you heard the news?
Bad things come in twos.
But I never knew
About the little things.

(I miss Oingo Boingo.)

Or maybe it was David O'Hara, the first member of The Fraternity that we meet. That guy is all sorts of inherent evil and his gravelly voice is a thing of wonder. God forgive me, but I pretty much said, "Well, sure, of course," when he took out a team of snipers by jumping out a skyscraper window, flying across blocks of intervening space, and casually knocking off the snipers one by one with a pair of pistols, perfect headshots at hundreds of yards.

Ah yes, Bekmambetov continues his cinematic love affair with truly wild physical action. Maybe that was the hook, because this director simply refuses to accept any notion that physics actually exists. For instance, in Day Watch he gleefully had a sports car drive up the side of an apartment complex, then flip sideways so it could park in someone's living room. Here, just as an example, he has a passenger train derail on a canyon bridge. Can a string of train cars hang together like that? Does a canyon of such awesome gloom and doom really exist anywhere in Europe?

The answers are "no" and "probably not," and I don't care. It's an awesome set-piece, and that's Bekmambetov's gift. Sure he's using every special effects tool in the book, but he handles them all exceptionally well. For comparison, in the Matrix films the use of CGI kept killing my willful suspension of disbelief. In Bekmambetov's films he's probably using just as much, or more, CGI but he assembles it in such a way that it feels incredibly possible and real. Your brain is saying (screaming, actually), "No way, no way, no way!" but your gut is digging the ride.

By most any objective measure, Wanted is train wreck bad, which might be apt. The film moves like a runaway freight train. Mindless, it never pauses to consider why its charging headlong down this track, it just is. But like a train wreck, it is engrossing on its own (fluid) terms. Relentlessly bloody, unapologetically brutal, it is also unabashedly and joyously physical.

Now excuse me, I need to see if I can get the hang of this "curve" thing.

Regarding Milk

2008-12-10T20:25:00.001-08:00

I find myself in strange agreement with Diane Feinstein: I'm not sure I want to see Gus Van Sant's film, Milk. You see, the titular subject of the film reflect history for me, not some distant abstract.

I was born and raised in San Francisco, specifically in the Castro (more accurately, Eureka Valley, but that's being picky). I was in high school when The Pendulum opened on 18th Street, just up from Castro, not quite four blocks from home. The Pendulum was the neighborhood's first gay bar, and it started a trend. What was a predominantly working class Irish neighborhood became, over the years, the gay capitol of the state, if not the nation.

I remember the gay couple who owned the pet shop (just a couple of doors down from The Pendulum). Wonderful people, had been together for a long time, and if they're still alive I suspect they are still together. They were always mortified and embarrassed when the Gay Pride parade pranced by.

Harvey Milk became a member of the San Francisco Board of Supervisors because of an approved initiative that Balkanized the city. Prior to the initiative's passage, the eleven members of the board were elected by a city-wide vote. That is, every eligible voter in the city voted for everyone running for election or re-election (six one election cycle, five the other; whoever got the most votes became president of the board). After the initiative passed, San Francisco was dissected into eleven little districts. From then until now, you only vote for whoever was running for office in your district.

It was a stupid idea based on a flawed premise, and I would assert that it's been disastrous for the city as a whole. But that's another discussion.

Milk lived in the Castro, which is in District 5. I don't know how van Sant plays it in his film, but Milk wasn't the only gay candidate running for office, he's just the one that won. I remembering shooting some title work for a gay documentary filmmaker, who remarked that he hoped so-and-so would be his next supervisor. So-and-so was a political opponent of Milk's.

Harvey Milk had a ruthless streak when it came to politics, especially running for office. I say that in all respect. It seems a necessary trait for running for public office, and Milk had it. I hope the film does him justice, because the previews make it look like he just stumbled and bumbled into being elected. This is a grave injustice if this is how the film plays it.

Dan White was a cold-blooded killer when he shot and killed Milk and Mayor George Moscone. There are moments you remember forever, and I'll always remember sitting in the office with my dad when KGO (Talk Radio 810 on the AM dial) broadcast the news of the shooting. It's stunning to have your mayor and your supervisor murdered.

Diane Feinstein should burn a candle in White's memory. There was no way she was ever going to get elected mayor of San Francisco (she failed every time she tried), but she was president of the Board of Supervisors when Moscone was slain. That meant she was in line of succession and took over the office of mayor, attaining by tragedy that which she could never attain by vote. That launched her political career into a larger world, as a US Senator.

It's difficult to argue that White didn't act with "malice aforethought," in a callous and premeditated way. He snuck into City Hall to avoid metal detectors at the front door. He shot Moscone six times, reloaded, went down the hall, and put six into Milk. He then snuck out in the ensuing confusion. His actions belie any allegation of mental incapacity.

Yet state law at the time, championed by liberals such as Moscone and Milk, allowed a "diminished capacity" defense, the notorious "Twinkie" defense. White was convicted of manslaughter. He served the maximum sentence, seven years. Within a year or two of his release, a hounded and ruined man, he committed suicide.

Don't read that wrong. I'm not painting White as some victim, but you have to honestly realize that in several ways, Milk brought about his own murder. No, I'm not blaming the victim, because the perpetrator is ultimately responsible for their own actions.

But Milk loathed White. The film's preview highlights White's dislike of Milk, but I assure you, it was returned in kind and substance. More, Milk rallied the board and mayor to have White removed from office. As said, Milk could be a ruthless politician. In a nasty political contest against White, he won.

And even after getting White removed from office, Milk kept at him. As we now know, he did this at his peril, because White focused on Milk (and Moscone) as the reasons for his downfall. His own faults were ignored, it was all Harvey and George's fault.

History records the results.

I want van Sant's film to be a success but I also want it to be honest because this isn't just a distant story to me, it's a bit of personal history. As I said, it's a horrible thing to have your mayor and supervisor murdered. The whole and true story deserves to be told.

DVD: The Dark Knight

2008-12-10T20:14:00.001-08:00

I've already gushed, but I feel like raving some more, and the release on DVD is as good an excuse as any.

The Dark Knight is the best film I've seen all year, possibly the best I've seen in years. In terms of action films, there's no contest. In terms of superhero films, there's no contest. In terms of drama, okay, there's some give and take. But I think it's better than last year's Best Picture, No Country For Old Men, or its strongest competition, There Will Be Blood. And both those films were great, if subtly flawed. The Dark Knight skips the flaws. Is it too much to compare it to The Lives of Others, the only other recent film that has haunted me this much?

The Dark Knight is, as Movie Bob put it, essentially perfect. I saw it once at a regular theatre, a second time at IMAX, and now several times via DVD. I'm enthralled each time. TDK is one of those films that I can't stop watching once I've begun. It has moments where I just want to put my player into a loop so I can see/hear/feel them over and over, like a junkie who just can't get enough.

There's a physical honesty to TDK that is amazing. Writer-Director Christopher Nolan wanted to capture as much as possible in the camera, on the set. He wanted to rely as little as possible on green screens, matte work, and CGI. There is, for example, that incredible ass-over-tea kettle shot of the Joker's semi, or the demolition of Gotham General Hospital. These are live-action shots, not some collection of pixels in a computer.

Christian Bale simply is the Batman, in a way and to a degree that none of his predecessors ever were. With minimal but fantastic help from Michael Caine and Morgan Freeman, Bale makes us believe that a billionaire could actually do the things Batman does. His internal conflicts ring with as much authenticity as his superheroic exploits, and you can take that anyway you wish. I believe that billionaire Bruce Wayne can do all that stuff, and so I easily ride along with Wayne's struggles for good, for justice, for reconciling his penchant for being the vigilante against his desire to support the rule of law, the lynchpin of modern society.

And as good as Bale is, you simply cannot sing enough praise about Heath Ledger as the Joker. Joker was always Batman's ultimate nemesis. I'm not the greatest comic book Batman fan ever, but even I recognized that each and every iteration of Batman must have him confront Joker. (It was a horrible mistake when Tim Burton killed the Joker at the end of his film.)

No, Batman and Joker are, as the Joker says in TDK, doomed to fight forever, which makes Ledger's death all the more bittersweet. I giggled when I first heard the news that Ledger had been cast as the Joker. He's the nancy in 10 Things I Hate About You. He's about as threatening as lemon meringue pie.

I stopped giggling the moment I saw him in action, giggles replaced with chills. If I giggle now it's in delight at his performance, a performance that becomes more mesmerizing with each viewing. His Joker is a man without a past, with no desire to have a future. He is, as he declares, an agent for chaos, anarchy's bestest friend.

Now, do I give all credit to Ledger, or do I recognize a great director when I see one? Christopher Nolan is all sorts of amazing here; his command of himself, his material, and his medium is beyond reproach. The best point of comparison is between TDK and Batman Begins, Nolan's first turn at bat with the Batman. He is much more confident. You can see the same growth in Bale as Wayne/Batman. And seeing how both of them improved makes me weep in wonder at what Hedger might have done the second time as Joker.

If Nolan takes up the challenge of a third film, and I hope he does, I also hope he sticks with the Joker. As good as it is, I'm not one of those who believes that Ledger's performance can't be topped and that no one should try. He's set the bar very, very high, but I'd love to see how Nolan resolves -- if at all -- Batman's struggle against Joker. I'd also like to see another actor take up the challenge, put on the make-up, and live up to the standard Ledger set. Isn't that what acting is all about?

As for the DVD and Blu-Ray releases, they're a mixed bag. Beautiful picture and impeccable sound that only suffers from the modern desire for MASSIVE LOUD EXPLOSIONS that tend to overpower the dialogue. I find myself riding the volume control constantly. The extras are scanty, commentaries are sadly absent. I have the same complaints with the Batman Begins DVD release, so obviously it's the way Nolan likes things.

At the end of the day, The Dark Knight stands on its own merits as a superb film. It's the reason we go to the movies: to be enthralled, to be lost in a different world, to see things from a different perspective, and perhaps, just perhaps, ask, "Well, why can't things be like this?"

But, of course, they are. Batman is an unsung hero, someone performing heroic deeds in the dark. Every day, in all corners of the world, there are ordinary people who do likewise. Sometimes we see what they've done, and yet take it for granted. Other times we curse what they've done, refusing to recognize the sacrifices that were made for the gains won. More often, they perform without recognition, without reward, without anyone knowing what has been done on their behalf (and here's that tie-back to The Lives of Others).

So maybe, in its finest moments, The Dark Knight is a paean to them, our silent guardians, whoever they are, wherever they may be, whatever they may be doing. Am I over-reaching? Maybe, but blame the film because it's that good.

Happy Thanksgiving!

2008-11-27T08:47:00.001-08:00

With so much to be thankful for, I think I'll keep this short. I am thankful for the health and prosperity of my children. I am thankful for the work my daughter does in the military and I pray she remains healthy and safe.

I am thankful for all the members of all the United States armed forces, who stand watch in far places so I can sit and type this.

So that I can live in the greatest country the world has ever seen.

I am thankful I live in a country that is overwhelmingly a force for good in a dark and cruel world.

And I am thankful that the most vicious of the Bush haters were -- again -- proven wrong. We didn't descend into a theocracy. Our republic didn't collapse into a dictatorship. In just a few weeks, my country will -- again -- watch a peaceful change in leadership.

So thank you, Lord, for all the above, and for so much more.

May your stuffing be tasty
May your turkey plump,
May your potatoes and gravy
Have never a lump.
May your yams be delicious
And your pies take the prize,
And may your Thanksgiving dinner
Stay off your thighs!

Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!

The Alphabet Meme

2008-11-16T21:05:00.001-08:00

...as found at Dirty Harry and What Would Toto Watch, as devised by Blog Cabins, with these rules. My list, based solely on the mood of the moment:

Apocalypse Now - Because no one film's insanity better than Francis Coppola.

Boondock Saints - Guns, Irish accents, Billy Connolly, etc.

Cowboy Bebop - Sometimes you need a bounty hunter, and who better than Spike?

Die Hard - Yippe kay-yay...!

Escape From New York - Why we don't make this reality (i.e., Manhattan as a massive prison) is a mystery to me.

Fall - An obscure little gem that was recommended to me years ago. Far from perfect, yet hits a perfect note with me.

Ghost in the Shell - Anime can make you think. Really.

Hard Candy - Forget Juno, Ellen Page was a star right here.

In Harm's Way - John f'ing Wayne, Kirk f'ing Douglas, big f'ing naval battles.

Jaws - All other "j" films bow in worship.

Kung Fu Hustle - Buddhist Palm!

Layer Cake - Daniel Craig, a star right there, baby. "You'd be in there, too, if I didn't like you."

Monty Python's Life of Brian - My personal favorite of the Python pantheon. "You don't need to follow anybody!"

No Man's Land - A little gem of a film that perfectly skewers the United Nations (not that it's hard to do...).

Our Man Flint - I want his lighter, I really do.

Paprika - Animation done by people enjoying a night with opium.

Quatermass and the Pit - The vibrations!

Robocop - "Throw down your weapons or there will be...trouble."

Sense and Sensibility - Emma Thompson might be the star, but Alan Rickman steals the show.

Ten Commandments - I'm pretty sure I've seen this more often than any other film. Ever.

Underworld - Guilty pleasure of seeing Kate Beckinsale in skin-tight rubber. I am oh such a shallow human.

Valmont - The unsung superior version of Dangerous Liaisons.

War of the Worlds - The Gene Barry version. The sounds of those Martian machines still gives me the creeps.

X-Men - Ah, when Bryan Singer could still make a good film...

Young Frankenstein - "Put the candle back!" My favorite Mel Brooks film.

Zardoz - Another guilty pleasure, almost unwatchable at times, but there's Sean Connery, in that...outfit.

Jaws is a perfect film

2008-11-07T20:15:00.001-08:00

For a while, I've been thinking about a comment Toto made in regards to my review of The Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. I had opined that Raiders of the Lost Ark is, arguably, a perfect film, and he stated that he felt Jaws was just that, a perfect film.

Well, yes, of course. Maybe I thought that was too obvious a point to make. But just to be clear: Jaws isn't "arguably" a perfect film, it is a perfect film.

Peter Benchley's novel, if you've never read it, is a crackling good yarn, but the film adaptation is better. A galley proof of the manuscript was sitting in a pile at Universal Studios, where a young Steven Spielberg found it, read it, and said, "I want it!" Despite the box office failure of his first big-screen film (The Sugarland Express), Spielberg was still riding high on the success of his made-for-TV thriller, Duel. He got his wish.

Carl Gottlieb, originally hired to act in the film, ended up co-writing the screenplay (Benchley did the original adaptation). The more soap opera aspects of the story were kicked to the curb (for example, in the novel, Hooper has an affair with Brody's wife). The result was a tighter, leaner story, something you watch and simply go, "Well, sure, that’s perfect."

The film's casting is beyond reproach. Roy Scheider, as Brody; Robert Shaw, as Quint; and Richard Dreyfuss, as Hooper. There was some debate over who would get top billing. Go watch your copy of the film (and if you don't have a copy, shame on you, run out -- right now! -- and buy one) and you'll see that all three names come on screen together.

The supporting cast is equally great, including Lorraine Gary as Ellen Brody and Murray Hamilton as the Mayor. Every single person cast is note and picture perfect for their role. Even small roles became great. Haven't you ever wondered why the production company behind House M.D. is called "Bad Hat Harry Productions"?

Jaws begins with terror, a college student on a midnight swim dragged to her death by an unseen horror. After grabbing your attention you are introduced to the cast in series of small moments. It's all exquisite; sometimes a tad cliched, yet always spot on. Nothing ever rings false, everything just builds. It's one perfect step after another.

Whenever you read about the film's production, you hear how a three-month shooting schedule became nine (long enough for Universal to have to cover Shaw's US income taxes; it was a clause in his contract). How a $3 million budget rose to over $9 million, almost unprecedented at the time, certainly for what was supposed to be a quick summer thriller. The editing ratio is historic. This measures the amount of film shot against the amount that ends up in the final print. A ratio of 3:1 was the norm; Jaws was something like 12:1 (if I remember correctly). Verna Fields earned her Best Editing Oscar.

What you seldom read about, unless you were a subscriber to American Cinematographer, was the planning, blood, sweat, and tears that went into filming this fish tale. Director of photography Bill Butler was already well established but to see his work here is to fully appreciate the man and his craft. It's not just the inherent pain in the ass that filming on water brings to a production, it was how he handled everything.

A case in point is the sequence where Brody asks the local ferryman to take him out to where some Boy Scouts are swimming, earning their merit badge. From the moment the mayor's Caddy drives onto the ferry to the end when Brody buckles under the mayor's pressure is one long take. While normally the camera would move, from establishing shot to group shot to medium-shot to close-up, here the camera is bolted to the ferry. The actors had to move to adjust the shot. Everyone had to know their lines, how they would act, how they would move, when to move from here to there, etc. All the while, the ferry is moving out into the cove. The result feels like a discrete series of shots, but in reality, as said, it's a single take.

That one scene is a film school lesson in and of itself.

Jacques Cousteau hated Jaws because he felt it gave sharks a bad rap. He would know, since he wrote the first book on sharks I ever bought (and still have). He pooh-poohed the entire notion of a shark leaping out of the water and onto a boat. Of course, now we have all those spectacular You Tube videos of "flying" sharks doing just that. Maybe Jacques over-reacted.

Audiences certainly did. I certainly did. I first saw Jaws at a sneak preview for Bay Area theatre owners; people screamed, popcorn flew. On opening weekend I saw it three days in a row, going with different friends each time. I paid to see Jaws on the big screen 15+ times, a personal record that stood unchallenged until Star Wars.

Steven Spielberg is cursed for creating the summer blockbuster and thus destroying "serious" film. His weapon was Jaws. It went on to shatter all box office records at the time. No one paid much attention to how much it made opening weekend, but everyone paid attention to the fact that it kept bringing people back time and time again.

There are certainly more important and historical films, films that have more depth, that are moving and, damnit, just more serious, but so what? There's not a single frame that needs to be changed in Jaws, not a single line of dialogue that needs to be altered, not a single note of John Williams iconic score that needs attention. For what it is, it is perfect, and one of my all-time favorite films.

God bless and keep you, President-elect Barack Obama

2008-11-05T23:37:00.001-08:00

I've had 24 hours to contemplate yesterday's election. I had a few things to say, and then I found that Dirty Harry had already said them so well, to his own (left-leaning) mother, no less:

While some of my readers are understandably and bitterly disappointed, even at me for not being so, not a single one will ever cross the many unholy lines your side has over the last eight years.

We will never summon all the powers at our disposal to advocate for chaos and massacre and defeat in a foreign country.

We will never hurl the blackest of lies to win a news cycle.

We will never refuse to grant Barack Obama his humanity.

We will never refuse to acknowledge President Obama has done something right when he does something right.

And we will never consider a doctrine that would silence your side.

For the sake of power, your side went against country, undermined our military, sided with the enemy, and sold the souls they don’t believe in.

Unlike your side, I can afford to be magnanimous to Barack Obama for a day because my love and faith in this country and its people transcends politics. But I also believe in God and take enormous comfort in knowing this to be true:

“For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul? Or what will a man give in exchange for his soul?”

[...]

I wish Barack Obama the best because my own humanity is not so far gone as to not allow me to recognize his.

I treat Barack Obama with respect, because unlike your side I recognize a hard-earned victory.

And I wish Barack Obama success because unlike your side I choose country over political gain.

Yes, some here are angry, but they’re not damned. Not like your side.

Amen.

I would add that Obama's election puts the lie to the assertion that the American dream is dead, that it impossible for an individual to achieve. Obama started life with...what? Little to nothing? And now he's president of the most powerful nation the world has ever seen.

And he's black, an African-American, elected president a bare 44 years after the signing of the Civil Rights Act. Glory be, what an amazing thing, what an amazing country!

What I'll remember most about Obama's acceptance speech wasn't the words but his appearance. He didn't gloat. He didn't wear a shit-eating grin. Rather, he looked somber, as though he was just beginning to feel the impact of the moment. Neither his voice nor his rhetoric soared as they had during the campaign. Instead, he sounded almost restrained, his voice tinged with humility.

Lord, I hope he's the centrist he claims to be, and not the socialist his diminutive record would seem to indicate.

It is perhaps ironic that one of the first negative comments I saw about Obama's election came from the far, far, far loony left:

But his choice, basically, is whether he's going to be Uncle Sam for the people of this country, or Uncle Tom for the giant corporations.

And with that quote, Ralph Nader demonstrated why he's one of two men whom I hold in utter contempt. The other is Jimmy Carter, appropriate for the moment because I dread that the next four years will, in effect, be Jimmy Carter's second term, an era of ruination and national self-destruction. I lived through the Carter years and remember double-digit inflation and double-digit unemployment. What I remember most of all was the utter lack of leadership from Jimmy Carter or anyone else in the White House.

Much of Obama's rhetoric echoes Carter, and so I fear he'll trot down that path of failure. But that glimmer last night gives me -- oh God, I can't believe I'm saying this -- hope.

So if he proves my worries unfounded, no one will be happier than me.

Do I laugh or do I cry?

2008-11-02T18:12:00.001-08:00

Laugh, because she can't be serious:

Bush has transformed America into a police state, from torture to the imprisonment of reporters, to the Patriot Act.

Cry, because she obviously means it:

Basically, Jong says her fear that Obama might lose the election has developed into an "obsession. A paralyzing terror. An anxious fever that keeps you awake at night."

Poor Erica Jong.

She's saying this in Italy, and so can comfortably travel abroad. Somehow she escaped the police state, or does she even live in the US?

I don't think she's hurting for money. Is she proof that fame and fortune rot the brain of its higher functions?

HT Ace of Spades.

The most beautiful people in the world...

2008-11-02T17:55:00.000-08:00

The answer to those Hollywood "go vote" videos...

HT Dirty Harry.

Obama '08? How about: Oh, never!

2008-10-30T19:06:00.001-07:00

Any genuine contest between liberty and equality is a contest liberty must lose. (Ronald Dworkin.)

Barrack Obama is all about equality, which means that in the final analysis, he'll toss liberty if it gets in the way. Even Brits get it:

As I have said before, I do not trust McCain; I think his judgment is erratic and impetuous, and sometimes wrong. But on the big picture, he gets it. He will defend America and the free world whereas Obama will undermine them and aid their enemies.

Here’s why. McCain believes in protecting and defending America as it is. Obama tells the world he is ashamed of America and wants to change it into something else. McCain stands for American exceptionalism, the belief that American values are superior to tyrannies. Obama stands for the expiation of America’s original sin in oppressing black people, the third world and the poor.

Obama thinks world conflicts are basically the west’s fault, and so it must right the injustices it has inflicted.

My folks were life-long Democrats and are probably figuring the best way to haunt me because of my conservative bent. Sometimes, though, the truth hurts , and the fact is that Obama learned nothing from the disastrous Carter presidency and plans on trotting down that same destructive path. (Reagan, in contrast, paid attention to the success of John F. Kennedy's tax cuts and did likewise.) It's also become quite clear that Obama thinks socialism is a good thing rather than the expressway to oppression that it truly is. (You need only look at Castro and Chavez to see the truth of this. That is, you will if your principles stand for liberty and not just your rhetoric.)

Due to a mainstream media which is totally in the tank for Obama (see here), combined with millions of willing and enthusiastic hounds, We the People know next to nothing about the favored candidate in this presidential race.

A list of things we do known may be found here. You'll find lots of video clips of The One and his supporters (well, they were supporters until he disowned them; nice friend).

Near as I can tell, Obama has a great speaking voice. He made a pretty speech in 2004. That's his major accomplishment. He has no foreign policy experience, zip executive experience, and apparently believes that the United States is, at its foundational core, deeply flawed and in need of repair.

An opinion I do not share.

Understand me here: I'm not saying we don't have problems. The US isn't perfect. However, I believe that the United States is, in the aggregate, a power for good in the world, the finest country the world has ever seen, has achieved more than any other in history, and, at its core, serves as a beacon for humanity.

Yes, I believe in American exceptionlism.

Obama does not. Obama, in words and deeds, believes that the United States is not a power for good in the world. Obama's own interviews and his personal associations demonstrate a dislike and mistrust of America's founding principles.

So there's no way I'll vote for him.

I have never enjoyed voting for the lesser of two evils. There are a lot of things about McCain that I dislike, especially as regards his social agenda. But at least he loves his country. He believes in America and will defend it to the bitter end. Of all that I am certain. Obama may love America, but it is abundantly clear that he doesn't believe in America. The country he wants is wildly different from the one I want.

And on a related note, this election has driven Speaker Nancy Pelosi insane. How else do you explain:

But I do tell you that if the Democrats win, and have substantial majorities, Congress of the United States will be more bipartisan.

Please, Nancy, explain how that works.

And I thought Speed Racer looked bad...

2008-10-17T00:07:00.000-07:00

This is really nauseating. I can't think of a nice thing to say. Even Karl Urban, who I thought was an awesome choice for McCoy looks....

And look at the leads. Good grief!

UPDATE: Having survived reading the article...

Simon Pegg as Scotty still looks good, but in the group shot his expression seems to say, "Good grief, look at these fooles."

I had hope (hope, I say) when Karl Urban was cast as McCoy. I laughed out loud because it seemed so perfect. Seeing him in that picture, though, makes my stomach churn.

As for the rest of the cast…? Oh. My. God.

And the production designs?!? The bridge of the Enterprise as interpreted by Apple Store designers? Abrams bragging that the bridge set is so cool it makes Apple Stores look uncool. He must think the set designs for Logan’s Run are just uber cool and not some Texas shopping mall. Oh wait…

And ooh, handrails for crew to hang onto when they hit turbulence. How exciting, realism! Feh!

Abrams states that he's not making this for Trek fans, he's making it for movie fans. Well excuse me if it still looks like utter crap. The worst part, of course, was discussing this with my son and we both looked at each and said, "You know we'll be there opening night..."

Sadly, too true, too true.

DVD: Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull

2008-10-15T20:49:00.001-07:00

Raiders of the Lost Ark, or, in long form, Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark, is arguably a perfect film. What it lacks in depth or intellect it more than makes up for in verve, style, and an extraordinary dedication to craft. Above all else, it rocks.

The next two sequels couldn't live up to the original. Temple of Doom decided that "dark" was a good thing. I enjoyed it at the time but it's aged horribly, with Steven Spielberg's wife-to-be being grating and annoying. Please, please, I now beg, just let her fall into the lava! Only that little Short Round bastard (!) is worse.

And while The Last Crusade recaptured a degree of the original's sense of fun, it obliterated two of its cherished characters. Marcus Brody was reduced to being a idiot while Sallah is depicted as hapless and well nigh useless. These were criminal abuses of people who were key to the first film, especially in the way they gave Indiana Jones, the man, background and depth.

And now we have Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, a film I first saw at the theatre but didn't want to talk about until I had seen it again, alas on DVD. It's a cut above Temple, kind of. It's a cut way below Crusade, definitely. It doesn't live up to the original, sorry.

Kingdom finds us re-entering the life of Indiana Jones in 1957. He's long since helped rid the world of Nazis and now he's just a college professor. Unfortunately for him, there's a new evil in the world, Communism, and they want something only Indy can help them find.

The "why" behind that is never particularly clear. In fact, why anyone does anything in this film is never clear. Nothing seems to flow. Instead, the plot just seems to stutter from one set piece to the next. The Commies seem perfectly capable of moving things along without the good Doctor Jones, and he has no reason for doing anything.

(Come to think of it, maybe Temple of Doom is better than Kingdom. Nah, Temple has Short Round...)

I'm worried about Spielberg. I think he's lost it. And I say that as someone who was 100% a fan. I will ardently defend pretty much everything he's made up until Munich, excepting The Lost World (the film is as morally bankrupt as Munich, but at least it has a T-rex in San Diego). He had me from "go" with Duel and I thought he owned me for life with Jaws, Close Encounters of the Third Kind, and Raiders.

But now he's delivered this one-two sucker punch of Munich and Kingdom. Kingdom is incoherent on its own terms. It's first mistake was to forsake God in favor of aliens. The underlying spiritual quests of the first three films lend them a strong sense of good versus evil; this is completely lacking in Kingdom. It's second, related mistake was to forsake any notion of actually making the bad guys, you know, bad, firmly establishing why we do not want these particular people to get their hands on this particular power. When he was fighting Nazis it was easy to see who was good and who was evil, amplified by the underlying quest for God. In Kingdom, because of how modern Hollywood denies the villainy of the Soviet Union, you have to work harder to make them effective film villains.

The film even undercuts the entire idea of how "bad" the Communists are. The FBI agents are more sinister, more unforgiving. And Indy is suspended because of political pressure. His new boss actually whines about the "Red scare", dismissing it with a sniffle. This despite evidence that maybe it's not a "scare" because, duh, Soviet agents just raided a top secret US base on US soil.

Kingdom never recovers from these missteps right at the beginning. The reliance on CGI is tragic; all sense of thrill and danger is lost. Harrison Ford looks properly older and tired, and I thought he could pull it off, but after a while he just seems to be going through the motions. Same for Karen Allen, and I cheered when I read she was in the film. Alas, I was let down. Even John Williams' music was listless. And please, don't get me started on this film's "Short Round" character.

Bottom line: Waaay disappointing. Please, Steven, try and get back on track with your next film. Meanwhile, let Indy rest in peace. After all, we'll always have Egypt.

DVD: A Sound of Thunder

2008-09-27T11:08:00.001-07:00

The sad fact is that for many film reviews, I’m often a little late to the party. Of course, thanks to the wonders of DVD, that party never really ends. Once upon a time, movies came and went. If you were lucky, it was re-released a few years later and you’d get a second shot at it. In our oh so modern world, however, the “re-release” happens whenever the DVD finally arrives at our doorstep.

Such is the case here, after a workmate suggested that 2005’s A Sound of Thunder was a good silly film, worth the time to watch, and loaned me her copy.

She lied.

A Sound of Thunder tries to be a throwback, a B-movie with aspirations for a higher grade. In this sense, it’s on par with one of my favorite guilty pleasure films, The Core. The Core is massively silly, but you always get the idea that the cast and crew knew it and were just having a good time. Such is not the case with A Sound of Thunder, wherein cast and crew just lumber along. It never becomes fun. The term “leaden” thuds to mind.

The film is based on the Ray Bradbury short story of the same name. Sometimes you can inflate a short and create a decent film. Total Recall, for example, is a Philip K. Dick short that was skillfully expanded into a great feature-length film. Total Recall works because the short has lots of possibilities for expansion; A Sound of Thunder does not.

The plot is simple: In the future, time travel is a reality and a company uses that technology to take hunters back in time for the hunt of a lifetime. The restriction is that you can’t touch the past in any way. The chosen prey is already fated to die at near the moment and place the hunters blast it down. The hunters wear protective suits, breath their own air supply, etc. They walk on a special path that hovers above the ground so even the grass is undisturbed.

Naturally, things go awry when one of the hunters panics and steps off the path. In doing so, he kills a butterfly. In the short, they discover this before returning to the present. The question they face is what changes in their future may have occurred as a result.

The short takes its title from the way in which Bradbury describes the way in which T-rex they are hunting roars, like “a sound of thunder.” It also comes into play at the short story's conclusion. In the film, the title is meaningless. They keep the title only as a tie-back to the short story, but little of the source material remains...pretty much just character names. After the opening, we’re told who the villain will be, with cue cards saying that humanity has created a most fantastic invention that can be used for good or evil, yet one man uses it “to make money.” Well how dare he, because making money is inherently very, very evil. Just ask any film producer or Marxist.

Our intrepid time-traveling hunters don’t discover that someone has crushed a bug until they’ve returned to the present and things start to change. Instead of a complete yet subtle shift in things due to a tiny change in the distant pass, changes happen in waves, while they watch. Why this is so is never discussed, just proclaimed. With each “time wave,” things change more and more. When the last wave hits, the last creature to have evolved (somehow determined to be us) will change. For inexplicable but plot-driven reasons, cities remain, admittedly now covered in weeds, and backup generators, those things of wonder, continue to work.

A moment’s thought would tell you to immediately jump back in time and see what the panicky hunters are about to do and stop them. But that would result in a very short, albeit logical, film. Instead, we’re subjected to a protracted and silly journey across town to find the panicky hunters and figure out what they did. In a race to fix things before that final wave turns us all into...whatever, our heroes opt to ignore the logical shortcut and go for a stroll in the park.

The film’s internal “logic” vanishes as you realize that our time-traveling hunters hunt the same dinosaur over and over. It’s never explained how, since they keep going back to the same time and place, they don’t run into other time-traveling hunters. We are just expected not to notice. But this discrepancy is rubbed in our face when going back to warn the hunters becomes our hero’s goal. Now you’re forced to wonder why he’ll only bump into the correct set of hunters and not any of the others, and why they weren’t bumbling into each other all along.

The entire cast is abused, from Oscar winner Ben Kingsley, to the steady and reliable Ed Burns, to the inexplicably hot Heike Makatsch. (What is it with German actresses lately? First I stumble upon Cosma Shiva Hagen in Speed Racer, and now Heike....)

Director Peter Hyams opted for a large-scale feel which resulted in his “vision” exceeding his budget. The film has some of the worst special effects you’ll ever see, the sort that gives CGI a bad name. You can hear him thinking, “This will look really cool,” only it never does.

I confess, Hyams’s involvement might skew my opinion. After the delightful Capricorn One, he had a shot at a prestige film, 2010; he and his ego blew it. Now he’s a hack. Amazingly, A Sound of Thunder is worse than his previous film foray into time travel, Timecop.

A Sound of Thunder is not even a guilty pleasure, it’s just crap. Thank God I didn’t buy this, so I can return it to its owner, who, at $5, was overcharged. Now I can sit back and watch a better film from my own library, something like Battlefield Earth....

Go, Speed Racer, Gooooooo!

2008-09-23T19:48:00.001-07:00

Newly released on DVD, freshly available from Netflix, now overtaxing my ancient television, Speed Racer. At first glance this is an odd film for the Wachowski Brothers to pick as their follow-up to their Matrix trilogy. However, even a cursory look at those films would reveal a certain love not just for Japanese martial arts, but for Japanese animation (anime).

So here he comes, here comes Speed Racer, a film which attempts to be wholly original by taking a cartoon world and turning it into a flesh and blood spectacle. You say this has been tried before, but never to this extent. Most comic-to-film adaptations make some concession, or concessions, to reality. An easy example is Batman. Take a look at the comic Batman’s costume and compare it to any of the big-screen adaptations. From ninja tights to armored suit, which is stupid (as Moviebob very aptly pointed out).

Speed Racer, the film, makes no concessions. This is anime brought to life. Everything is bright and garish, every scene pops with an unreal color intensity. There is no attempt to subdue appearances for the sake of reality. From the first frame it is clear that this film will go no where near reality, that it will be merrily content to create its own sense of reality.

It comes damn close to working. Dirty Harry made this observation in his review of the theatrical release. That’s why I wanted to see the film, and now I find I agree. The style of Speed Racer is near-brilliant, and it’s consistent. Scene after scene is pure outlandish behavior. Everyone acts over-the-top, while at the same time the world they inhabit is deliciously over-the-top. Oh it comes so damn close to working.

But it doesn’t. I had to watch the film over two nights because the lights, color, motion, etc., made my head ache. I can’t imagine what this must have been like in a theatre. I’m not given to motion sickness when watching a film (though sitting in a car at a drive-in watching the car chase in Bullitt came close). Cloverfield didn’t make me retch, not at the theatre or during subsequent viewings on DVD, though it tried real, real hard. Yet here, for Speed, my eyes simply had to shut it out.

That I could successfully watch this over two nights illustrates the film’s real major flaw. The plot, to put it gently, sucks. Zero involvement with the characters, zero buy-in for the stakes at hand, zero “give a damn” factor all around. I found a convenient place to pause, did so, and went to bed without one whisper of an idea of thinking about considering a rumination of concern as to what would happen next. I just didn’t care.

Part of the reason I didn’t care is that it’s established right from the beginning that the laws of physics simply don’t apply. Further, drivers can suffer horrific crashes, get encased in bubbles, and simply pop out for a safe, injury-free landing. Since cars can now do anything -- even fighting each other -- and regardless of what that anything is no one will get hurt, please tell me why I should give a hoot? There is not even a twinge of threat, ever.

I understand that this, even with a PG rating, was meant to be a kid’s film, but arguably so was Transformers, yet people get squished throughout that film. Complaints about cinematic style aside, when a rocket hit someone in Transformers that person or thing was reduced to components. Dead components, at that.

And if you got lost during the action sequences in Transformers, you stand no chance during Speed Racer. So much color is swirling about while people squeal, tires shriek, engines bellow, that it's all reduced to a mind-numbing blur.

The film is deliriously silly in its underlying politics and economics. I love that the Racer family wants to be independent, sponsor free, but where in the hell does Pops get all his funding from? Sure, this was never discussed in the TV series, but there you got to see Speed & Family win lots of races with fat monetary prizes. Here...?

For crying out loud, does every single big budget film made have to slam capitalism and Big Business? Is it some secret code within the WGA, DGA, MPAA, etc.? Can’t the villains in this sort of film just once, just once, just be independent villains? Do we always have to paint Big Business as wearing waxed mustaches, busily twirling the ends and sneering?

Cast and casting is perfectly fine. I thought Emile Hirsch as Speed would drive me nuts, but he’s all right. Christina Ricci as Trixie, John Goodman as Pops, and even Susan Sarandon as Mom, were each an inspired choice. Spritle and Chim Chim drove me nuts, but they drove me nuts when I was a kid watching the TV series. Roger Allam is apparently the W brothers go-to guy for scenery-chewing villain, almost reprising his villainous villainy from V for Vendetta.

Oh, and Cosma Shiva Hagen (awesome name) as Gennie, Allam's assistant, is just amazingly easy on the eyes. I was transfixed by one shot of just her calves as she waits for Speed, watching her calve muscles twitch as she stands there in those high heels. As mesmerizing as any CGI effects shot in the entire film.

As said, the film is outstanding in creating its unreal reality. I completely bought into a time and place with huge, outlandish racetracks, with the very notion of a World Racing League. A world where billions watch every race with an intensity that even Obama fans can’t match.

Add some danger to that world, craft an actual plot, give us characters that are driven by that plot and threatened by that danger...oh, what could have been.

In the end, Speed Racer is a magnificent failure. If your eyes can stand it, it’s worth the look. Wear sunglasses, take some Dramamine and aspirin. I’d love to say that the effort pays off, but it doesn’t, at least not well. However, in this film era of cookie-cutter "creations," if you’re a film buff you should at least check out a film attempting to be something very, very different.

Tune Wars

2008-09-17T20:32:00.001-07:00

I’m a picky bastard. I want it all. I want clean desktop software that connects seamlessly with a feature-rich portable media player (PMP). For years, this has meant there was precisely one choice: the Apple iPod. This is no longer the case because the mandatory iTunes desktop software stopped being “clean” while the iPod product line – with the very notable exception of the Touch – has stagnated.

For purposes of this discussion, let us temporarily put aside two things. First, the iPod Touch. Second, the size of the iTunes music library. I’ll bring them back later, promise. And for purposes of clarification, my current PMP is a refurbished SanDisk Sansa 4GB flash player. I want to upgrade.

I’m approaching this a little differently than most might. All of the players on the market are, for the most part, interchangeable. They play mp3’s. Yes, there are other formats, but the mp3 is the universal. The user interfaces are similar; one is better in one regard, worse in another. In addition to music, most can play video. (Ooh, let’s stare at the tiny, tiny screen....)

The desktop software has become the deal maker or breaker. The Sansa uses Windows Media Player (WMP), and it’s just cumbersome. As a desktop player, it’s fine. As an interface with a PMP, it works, but the experience isn’t pleasant. In technical terms, it’s sorta sucky.

Even though I didn’t own an iPod, I started using iTunes back with v6 because of how well it organized my music library. You just drag and drop files onto it. iTunes then copies that file into your designated directory, leaving the original alone. Voila, instant backup, instant organization. The competition still doesn’t do this, much to my amazement.

Things started going bad during iTunes v7. “Bloatware” is an understatement. With v8 it's worse. iTunes v8 is the 800-pound gorilla in the room not just because of market share or size of the on-line music library, but because of the software’s demand on computer resources. At one point it had consumed half my system RAM, over 500MB's, just sitting there. Neat!

The Genius feature of v8 fails to impress. “Moron” is a better name in that it cheerily recommends that I purchase music I already own. This is the best it can do after hours of “analyzing” my music library? Marvelous!

And so my days with iTunes have come to a close. Thank you, Apple, it is time for you to go.

iTunes v8 looks especially horrible when compared to the equally new Zune desktop v3. Zune v2.x was often pretty, but loved sucking 95% of my processor while sitting there looking pretty. And while “owning” most of my processor, the Zune software was unresponsive. WtF? This appears to have been fixed with v3. I let it sit overnight, scanning my library, updating itself, and in the end it was idling with barely a tick of processor power.

Zune desktop v3 appears to be easier on system resources than before. It “idles” at around 85MB of RAM, comparable to the latest releases of Winamp and WMP, and far less than iTunes v8. Zune seems to add fewer background processes. I had 46 running pre-install, 47 after; iTunes added more, going from 46 to 51. All in all, Zune desktop is far more pleasant on my computer than iTunes. It’s so nice I’d consider using it as my desktop player software.

So at this point of my internal debate, by virtue of its desktop software, Zune leads. The desktop software is better than iTunes in all regards save one, the way it copies files into your library. In return for losing that feature, Zune desktop is leaner (who thought you could say that about any Microsoft software?), more pleasant to look at, and is far less of a resource hog.

As a bonus, MixView kicks Genius to the curb. Hard. It is gorgeous, simple, and just plain works as advertised. In total, if the new Zune desktop software indicates how Microsoft will do software development in the future, they will, indeed, rule the world. You have been warned.

However, now the aforementioned iTunes music library and iPod Touch may return to the discussion. It is impossible to ignore the success of the iPod/iTunes music eco-system. And yet, while the size of the library is nice, it is neither a deal maker nor deal breaker for me. The only songs I ever purchased via iTunes were from the Plus store because I hate, hate, hate Digital Rights Management.

As for the Touch, it's just gorgeous. It makes much more sense than the iPhone. It makes playing music fun. You need two hands to use it, though, and you have to give it your full attention. It’s also expensive for the storage space you get, $299 for 16GB while for $50 less I can get 120GB.

So I gently lay the Touch aside, disregard that giant DRM-wrapped library, and look elsewhere. I am led inevitably – or so it seems – to Zune. The price is right, the players are fine, and the desktop software appears to be excellent. That leaves me only worried about DRM.

There is no equivalent to iTunes Plus, individual files without a DRM wrapper, so everything you buy via Zune is locked up. Zune offers a subscription service, though. For a monthly fee I have access to much (all?) of the Zune library. I can swap songs in and out at will. I can explore. If I find something I like, then it’s off to the store to purchase the CD, or acquire a DRM-less version from some other digital download service (e.g., Amazon).

With Apple, it’s purchase or be damned.

With a subscription service there is no illusion of ownership and somehow that makes DRM less annoying. It’s analogous to satellite radio, where you pay a flat monthly rate to listen to as much music as you want. Or, for that matter, Netflix. I love Netflix.

And so I think I’ve talked myself into my next PMP purchase. Hello, Zune?

DVD: The Descent

2008-09-16T22:35:00.001-07:00

While waiting for the fourth disk of season 4 of House to arrive, I watched The Descent. This movie has been out on DVD for a while, so why bring it up now?

Because I think I might become a fan of its writer-director, Neil Marshall. His latest is Doomsday, recently released on DVD, and while it’s sort of a mess, it’s a mess in that oh-fun-what-the-heck-let’s-shoot-a-Bentley-through-a-bus sort of way.

The Descent is a different sort of animal. Prepare for spoilers. Since this film has been out for a while, I’m going to feel free to reveal.

The setup is simple: Six friends go spelunking, complications ensue. Basic complications involve Sarah and Juno. Sarah is an emotional wreck following the rather horrible and tragic deaths of her husband and daughter (this trip is seen as therapy, oh my). Juno is a reckless thrill-seeker who leads an unknowing Sarah and friends into a cave no one has – publicly, at least – ever explored. All goes horribly wrong, of course, leaving the six in the dark, desperately seeking a way out.

By this point, I was on the edge of my couch, creeped out. Think of the opening scene of Cliffhanger, with Stallone trying – and failing – to rescue his best friend’s fiancé from her doom. The rest of Cliffhanger couldn’t live up to that opening tension; The Descent manages to stretch things out a bit more.

All of the characters are serviceable, if a trifle cliché. There’s the reckless one with a tinge of guilty conscience, the oh-so-helpful one worrying about her sister, the wildly reckless one who thinks they’re all pansies, and, of course, our emotionally burnt out one, trying to recover from a horrific loss. There’s another in there somewhere, but I suppose she was little more than a red shirt.

Then again, they’re all red shirts. The film’s basic formula is: Who gets out alive? It changes to become: Does anyone get out alive?

The film falls apart when it opts to transform from a psychological thriller to an outright horror film. There are critters down there in the dark, chittering to themselves. They hunt and pursue our six heroines and one by one our spelunkers become tasty snacks.

Once the creatures enter the picture, the film stumbles and goes brain dead. You get lots of screaming, panic, blood, screaming, blood, running, blood, scattering, blood, intestines, a lot of squish, a small lake of blood (I am not kidding), heavy breathing in the dark, repeat; i.e., now-standard horror-movie fare.

Which is one hell of a disappointment because until then I was, as said, on the edge of my seat. Maybe it’s latent claustrophobia, but those sequences where they’re squirming through tight passages, or even when they’re in massive underground caverns, were unnerving. The way the group began as one big happy family of friends and slowly, as their predicament became clear, started to unravel was well done. Maybe not perfect, maybe a little too easy, but it worked for me.

The creatures, on the other hand, didn’t. Sure, due to living in complete darkness their eyes have atrophied. Get it. Blind, they hunt by sound. Fine. But they can’t hear one of our heroines when they’re standing on her?

I understand why the creatures have to hunt outside the cave because if they were sealed in underground, Marshall would have had to spend time establishing the creatures’ food supply. As a bonus, he gives our trapped heroines – and the audience – the illusion that there’s a way to escape. Well, given the sort of prey the beasties drag down into the dark (can you say, “moose”?), that escape route should have been easy to find.

But that’s almost a side issue because the big problem I had with the creatures is that they detract from the psychological drama that was developing. There are secrets between our sisters with different mothers, especially between Sarah and Juno. Watching the group descend into despair and madness while that hidden truth comes out would have been awesome. Melodramatic, yeah, but awesome nonetheless.

There didn’t have to be creatures. Sarah could have been convinced there’s something in the cave with them. Her mind’s already a weak and fragile thing, remember, and now she’s off her meds. As she unravels her fear, in the close darkness, infects the others. Panic causes injuries, death. Their situation, never hopeful, goes straight to hell.

Oh, it could have been so. The theatrical release of the film allowed Sarah to be the sole survivor. The closing moment is her sitting in a car, sobbing, and suddenly seeing one of her dead companions sitting next to her. Scream, pop to black, roll credits.

In the “director’s cut” you get a different ending. Sarah screams and suddenly she’s looking at her daughter, lit by the glow of birthday cake candles (a vision that has recurred throughout the film, so this is nicely foreshadowed). The camera pulls back to show Sarah just before she escaped from the cave. Eyes wide, almost smiling, lit by unseen candles. The camera continues to pull back and we see she’s lit by the torch she made, kneeling on a slope of bones in the cave, staring at nothing. She’s in the cave, catatonic. Her descent into madness is complete. Her madness only lets her see her daughter, the birthday cake, and the candles. All else is darkness. Roll credits. It’s up to us to debate whether she’s escaped and is unaware of that fact, or is still in the cave and is unaware of that reality.

Creepy.

The film is better without those stupid creatures. Without them, The Descent lives up to its title. It’s less about a descent into the bowels of the earth and more about a descent into madness. Nice, creepy stuff.

At some point, Marshall's writing ability will improve. He’ll gain the confidence to follow through on how his films start. No shortcuts, no easy escapes.

And then he’ll truly scare the crap out of us.

Ah, Camille, a breath of sanity from the left

2008-09-10T22:18:00.001-07:00

From Camille Paglia, and I quote:

A feminism that cannot admire the bravura under high pressure of the first woman governor of a frontier state isn't worth a warm bucket of spit.

Ahem, precisely. Further:

Over the Labor Day weekend, with most of the big enchiladas of the major media on vacation, the vacuum was filled with a hallucinatory hurricane in the leftist blogosphere, which unleashed a grotesquely lurid series of allegations, fantasies, half-truths and outright lies about Palin. What a tacky low in American politics -- which has already caused a backlash that could damage Obama's campaign. When liberals come off as childish, raving loonies, the right wing gains. I am still waiting for substantive evidence that Sarah Palin is a dangerous extremist. I am perfectly willing to be convinced, but right now, she seems to be merely an optimistic pragmatist like Ronald Reagan, someone who pays lip service to religious piety without being in the least wedded to it. I don't see her arrival as portending the end of civil liberties or life as we know it.

Now mind you, Paglia is an Obama supporter. If she's a member of any vast ideological conspiracy it's the one that supports rational thought and discourse. She stands for the willingness to engage the opposition rather than vilify it.

I think she's pegged the underlying cause of all the vitriol thrown at Palin, and that's abortion. There's really no other reason for the "feminist" movement (as exemplified by NOW, at least) to recoil in horror from a woman who fulfills so many feminist ideals.

It is nonsensical and counterproductive for Democrats to imagine that pro-life values can be defeated by maliciously destroying their proponents. And it is equally foolish to expect that feminism must for all time be inextricably wed to the pro-choice agenda. There is plenty of room in modern thought for a pro-life feminism -- one in fact that would have far more appeal to third-world cultures where motherhood is still honored and where the Western model of the hard-driving, self-absorbed career woman is less admired.

You tell 'em, Camille! Sadly, if most of the "editor's choice" responses are any indication, they aren't listening.

Sexist bastards continue to froth

2008-09-08T17:33:00.001-07:00

I’m hard-pressed to find any other reason – other than blind, raging, insane hatred – because the assaults on Sarah Palin have been blind, raging, insane, hateful, and, yes, sexist. Those paragons of virtue, the illustrious icons of ivory, The Left, the “progressives”, have led these charges and are downright proud of themselves.

It is impossible to imagine any of these investigations if Palin had either been a Democrat or, more to the point, a man. Impossible. No one in the media or on the left questioned Hillary’s ability to raise Chelsea while she was running hither and yon as “co-president” during the 1990’s. The same have been strangely silent about John Edwards and his affair, spawning a love child while his wife suffers terminal cancer.

(And speaking of Edwards, no one on the left questioned his competency to be vice president even though his entire political experience at the time were the few years (three?) he served in the Senate before opting to run for president and then vice president.)

But Sarah Palin is most obviously not a man, she’s a woman. And she’s an unapologetic Republican conservative that had the audacity to rise to prominence on her own merits, rather than marry rich (I’m looking at you, Hillary Rodham, Nancy Pelosi, Barbara Boxer, Diane Feinstein, etc.) .That makes her red meat to those sanctimonious wraiths who revel in bile and self-loathing.

A self-evident idiot fabricates a theory from whole cloth that Trig is not her son and the mainstream media leapt at it as though it was truth handed down from the mountain. When that blew up, a pustule on another website opted to decree that Palin attempted to force a miscarriage, even though, again, the facts unsubtly got in his way.

I could go on, but the facts speak for themselves. These bigots of the left are just that, bigots. They are so frothing at the mouth they are oblivious to the sexist basis of their lies and slanders. They are the very definition of hypocrite...and that’s putting it politely.

Where are your feminist ideals when all you can do is attack a candidate for being a woman? You can hate her politics, fine, but these attacks are all about her gender, and I could have sworn that was something the left, the liberals, the progressives, that feminism said was a bad thing.

Can she raise her children while handling the job of vice president? When you ask that question of a male candidate, come back and we’ll discuss it. Until then, TFSU.

What about Bristol, Palin’s pregnant 17-year-old daughter? Bristol was stupid. There’s no excuse in this day and age. Everyone knows better, and she did, too. But that was yesterday and I’d rather deal with today and tomorrow. I commend her choice to carry the pregnancy to term, consistent with her faith and beliefs. I am less than thrilled with the upcoming “shotgun” wedding.

Does this mean that abstinence training is a failure? No. Abstinence remains the only 100% effective way of avoiding pregnancy and STD’s. Sorry Bristol couldn’t live up to the ideal, but now she will live with the consequences. This is a much healthier attitude than Obama’s notion that pregnancy is being “punished” for a “mistake”.

All of this is static, though. If you want to discuss Palin’s qualifications to be vice president, fine, but discuss her qualifications and her politics, not her gender and not her family.

And I want to see all the media’s discussion of “inexperience” regarding Edwards. Or, for that matter, presidential candidates such as Jimmy Carter, Bill Clinton, and – more relevant today – Barrack Obama. Or do we talk about inexperience and taking care of your family only when dealing with women?

The silence, as regards those men, is deafening.

Budget, we don't need no stinkin' budget!

2008-09-02T23:54:00.001-07:00

My clock says it's just shy of September 3, 2008, and by the time this posts that day may have come.

California is still without a state budget. They won't even talk to each other this week. Wrangling over the budget kept most of the Democrats trapped in the state, unable to attend their convention last week. No doubt they are making sure that their Republican rivals are equally trapped this week.

Meanwhile, no budget. They're not even talking about it, as though they have more important things to do.

State law says the Controller can't spend any money without a budget. Case law says the same, except for payments mandated by Federal law.

So meanwhile, no budget.

Just saying.

My world suddenly brightened...

2008-08-29T16:08:00.001-07:00

I don’t know what it is. Maybe it’s because she’s a former beauty pageant contestant. Maybe it’s because she likes guns and hunts. Maybe it’s because she not only challenged the Republican establishment in Alaska, but she won. Big. Maybe it’s because she knew her fifth child would be born with Downs syndrome and had him anyway.

Oh, and maybe it’s because she’s a redhead and she’s hot. Sorry, call me petty and shallow, but if women can swoon over Obama, I’m allowed to swoon over Sarah Palin.

I am laughing my ass off listening to Democrat, liberal, and progressive pundits trying to hack at her lack of experience. Are they really so oblivious to the fact that all such accusations apply even more so to The One? Someone actually remarked that she’s even less experienced than Obama, effectively acknowledging how inexperienced he is.

There are a couple of key differences, however. The first should be obvious to anyone with a pulse: Palin’s not running for president, Obama is. She may, indeed, be “a heartbeat” away from that job, but Obama is heading straight for it. If there is such a thing as on-the-job training for the presidency then she’s heading for that, the vice-presidency, and not the job itself. The same cannot be said for The One.

The second is a little more subtle, and that is her experience (meager as it is) versus his experience (meager as it is). She’s been an executive, he’s been a committee member. That is, he’s never been an actual leader, the one guy where the buck stops and he and he alone has to make the decision. He was a member of the Illinois state senate (groupthink) and now he’s a member of the US senate (more groupthink). While she’s also worked on committees, she was also a small town mayor and now she’s a state governor. He comes from an insular world, she governs a state with international borders. He works in groups, she leads.

And that’s the difference.

In general, the American voter tends to agree with this. The last time we elected a sitting senator was John Kennedy. Since then we’ve consistently chosen governors for president over senators. Neither Carter nor Clinton had the depth or experience of their Republican opponents, especially in foreign affairs, but we voted for them anyway. That was at least in part because their opponents were senators. Governors, as executives, had a better grasp of the duties involved with the presidency, you know, the executive branch of government.

Senators don’t.. As a matter of habit, they work for a majority vote or consensus, the antithesis of leadership. In peacetime, this is sorta fine; during war, it’s lethal.

This difference was one of the reasons I supported Romney as the Republican nominee. His executive experience just thumped on his senatorial rivals, and I just didn’t give a hoot about his being a Mormon. (Something liberals and progressives made a big stink over, being the bigots that they are.)

Until this morning I was stuck having to choose between two examples of my least favorite people, US senators. On around six different measures that matter most to me, McCain trumps Obama, so he already has no vote. I wish he’d cut back on his moonbat environmental wacko nonsense, but hey, nobody’s perfect.

His choice of Sarah Palin, however, rather than another member of that oligarchy of arrogance and privilege we call a Senate, cements my choice. She may screw up during the campaign to come, but given the races she’s already run – and won – somehow I doubt it.

Yup, my day just got a whole lot brighter.

My parents would weep

2008-08-28T18:21:00.001-07:00

They were life-long, devoted Democrats. Either would prefer to be skinned alive then ever cast a vote for someone with an (R) next to their name. My father once said that Ronald Reagan, as governor of California, was Satan on earth. My mother espoused burning bras, bombing banks, and putting reactionaries up against the wall. There's no doubt they'd vote for Senator Barrack Obama.

There's also no doubt they'd be wearing gas masks as they did so, the mere holding of their noses being insufficient.

I've been voting in presidential elections since 1976. Never have I seen any party, major or otherwise, put forth a less qualified candidate than The One. Never. He's even worse than Jimmy Carter. The sheer scope of his inexperience is breathtaking, matched only by his colossal ignorance. (Or is that arrogance?)

Stupid is defined as "lacking or marked by lack of intellectual acuity".

In contrast, ignorance is "the lack of knowledge or education".

So I am not saying that Obama is stupid; his successful career at law school belies any accusation of stupidity.

On the other hand, his ignorance, especially of history, is staggering. He reminded us Kennedy went to Vienna and talked to Khruschev when we were on the brink of nuclear annihilation. Only when Kennedy made that trip, we weren't on the brink. That would come over a year later, during the Cuban missile crisis. And history shows that after Khruschev met Kennedy, the Soviet dictator was emboldened enough to put missiles in Cuba. He came away from the meeting convinced that Kennedy was an empty suit.

In other words, not only did Obama get the basic history wrong, he missed that history proves precisely the opposite point he was trying to make.

Obama isn't sure what relative of his might (or might not) have liberated (or at least helped liberate) Auchwitz (or some other Nazi concentration camp).

He was shocked (shocked, I say) to discover that the church he professes to have been a member of for 20 years is a hotbed of racist rhetoric and victim politics. He claims he was never there during any of Reverend Wright's now-infamous diatribes, yet he used the title of one of those diatribes as the title of his book, The Audacity of Hope.

And more recently, his knee-jerk reaction to Russia's invasion of Georgia was to say we should bring a resolution before the United Nations' Security Council. Uh, Senator, Russia is a permanent member of the Security Council and therefore can prohibit such a resolution from even being discussed. Oh, and even if discussed Russia has veto power, and would kill any condemnation.

Are we really supposed to ignore all of this?

He's probably giving a real pretty speech right about now. I'll find out later because I'm not going to watch. Political conventions lost all their charm when the days of the floor fight went away. Instead, I'm going to make myself a margarita, Kat something with rum, and reheat Chinese food for the two of us.

Damn, this presidential season doth suck.

Egads! Harsh, dude(tte)s!

2008-08-28T18:00:00.001-07:00

Roe, Casey, and a WtF moment?!?

2008-08-28T17:50:00.001-07:00

So I met this bright and intelligent woman, only to discover that she’s a single-issue kind of gal. She’s going to vote Obama because electing McCain would enable Republicans to overturn Roe v. Wade. Sadly, she really believes that’s true, because that's what her degree in, I kid you not, the history of women's reproductive rights tells her, and so all other considerations are kicked to the curb.

I suspect she’s not alone, especially given that to Progressives the only valid question of any judicial nominee is: “Will you support Roe v. Wade?”

The ignorance is nauseating.

Quick question: If the United States Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade today, could a woman get an abortion tomorrow?

Indisputable answer: Yes. When the Court issued its Roe decision in 1973, the result was that every abortion statute in the nation was erased from the books. If Roe fell tomorrow, the old statutes would not rise from their graves like zombies from Shawn of the Dead. Each and every state legislature would have to enact new legislation. Until then, precisely nothing would change. Abortion clinics would remain in operation, appointments would still be set, abortions would still be performed.

The problem with relying on a court decision granting you a “right” is that a subsequent court ruling can take that “right” away. Most discussions about precedent, “super-precedent”, stare decisis, etc., seek to avoid this. Indeed, without this fact of judicial life we would live in a very different world.

Plessy v. Ferguson declared that separate is equal, that it was lawful and constitutional to separate the races, be it all-white schools, all-black schools, or a “whites only” car on the train. This ruling stood as the law of the land for almost 60 years. Then Brown v. Board of Education came along and said that separate is not equal and mandated school desegregation. Plessy stood for almost 60 years, surely a “super-precedent”, yet Brown threw it out the window.

Ask yourself, “Was the internment of Americans of Japanese ancestry during World War II constitutional?” Most people would say, “No!” Yet the Court, in Korematsu v. United States, said, “Yes!” Korematsu remains the law of the land to this day, and will probably remain so for decades to come.

Korematsu illustrates two facts of legal life: First, that Court decisions can often be, morally at least, completely off the wall. And second, that the Court is powerless to correct its mistakes until a legal challenge is made. Korematsu will remain valid law until it is somehow cited in support of an action. That action will then need to be challenged in court, and that challenge would have to eventually rise before the Court, which then would have an opportunity to re-evaluate the basis for Korematsu and, as with Plessy, send it packing.

If you rely on the Court to grant you a “right”, you are relying on an illusion of stability, and no amount of stacking the Court – either way – will change that fact.

You permanently secure a right by amending the Constitutional. There it remains until such time as someone goes through the process of undoing your amendment (see the 18th Amendment, repealed by the 21st Amendment). The Constitution allows for this process, and we’ve done it some 27 times. It’s not easy, but if you really believe in a woman’s right to choose, in an unalienable “right” to an abortion, then rather than fight judicial appointees your more honest course of action is to seek to have Roe codified in the Constitution. (And ditto, in reverse, to the pro-life crowd.)

An interesting thought experiment is whether an amendment, declaring such a right, can be unconstitutional? For an abortion amendment to be consistent with the rest of US law, it would have to draw a bright line declaring when life begins. Roe’s trimester approach was not a bright line, and so was constantly challenged until Planned Parenthood of Pennsylvania v. Casey. But even as Casey tossed Roe’s trimester formula and declared an absolute right to abortion, it claimed to hinge on that sticky word “viable”.

The problem, for abortion activists, is that once a fetus becomes viable – roughly meaning that it’s able to survive outside the womb – then it should be considered alive. And once considered alive, it’s not a fetus but a baby, an independent life entitled to all the protections afforded under US law. In that circumstance, the law will not allow you to choose the mother’s life over the life of her unborn child. The law here is clear, black and white: You cannot kill an innocent even if doing so saves another’s life.

You see here why the pro-choice/pro-abortion side can never address the issue of when life begins. Once that line is drawn then restrictions on abortion are not only inevitable, they are unavoidable. To be a valid law, a hypothetical abortion amendment would have to declare when life began. It would have to be a bright line. On one side of the line, abortion is legal; on the other, abortion is illegal.

If it helps, under English common law life began with the baby’s first breath. Until actual birth, it wasn’t “alive.” And if that seems like a bright line, then how does that reconcile with DNX, “dilate and extract”, otherwise known as “partial-birth abortion”, a late-term procedure where the living child is partially delivered, killed, and then removed?

And for another thought experiment, rather than the judiciary, focus instead on the legislature itself. Article III of the Constitution grants the Court jurisdiction over a narrow range of issues. That the Court has insinuated itself elsewhere is the result of Congressional inaction. The Constitution states quite clearly that the Congress has the authority to restrict the Court’s jurisdiction: “with such Exceptions, and under such Regulations as the Congress shall make” (US Constitution, Art.III Sec.2 cl.2 s.2, emphasis mine).

So consider the circumstance wherein the Congress enacts a statute that declares abortion illegal and, in the same statute, says the Federal court system has no jurisdiction over matters involving this statute. The first clause is in conflict with Roe/Casey, but the second clause says the Court no longer has jurisdiction over the matter. They literally cannot hear any case pertaining to the ban on abortion.

What result? That is the very essence of a Constitutional crisis and could have happened not so very long ago if worries about Republicans, re abortion, had been valid. Consider that when Bush got elected, Republicans controlled the White House, the House, and the Senate. They could have passed just this sort of statute, but they didn’t.

Single-issue litmus tests for presidential candidates are never valid. In the Congress and the Presidency, when it comes to abortion, both sides lack the stones to do the truly hard thing.

Just wanted to share, part two....

2008-08-11T20:41:00.001-07:00

Ingredients:

1.5 oz. Partida Anejo tequila
0.75 oz. Partida Agave Nectar
0.75 oz. distilled water
1 freshly squeezed lime

Shake all ingredients with ice, serve over ice, "never use salt". I don't, as a rule, so that extra instruction is superfluous.

Excellent concoction, well worth trying, especially if you actually like the flavor of agave. To really taste the agave, though, substitute Partida Silver for Anejo.

California dreaming (nightmaring?)

2008-08-01T18:28:00.001-07:00

I am a civilian employee with the California Highway Patrol. Because I’ve said that, I am required to say...

THIS PAGE CONTAINS PERSONAL OBSERVATIONS AND OPINIONS OF THE AUTHOR. IT DOES NOT REFLECT THE VIEWS, NOR REPRESENT AN OFFICIAL POSITION, OF THE CALIFORNIA HIGHWAY PATROL. FURTHER, THE CALIFORNIA HIGHWAY PATROL DOES NOT ENDORSE OR APPROVE THE CONTENT OF, NOR IS IT IN ANY MANNER AFFILIATED WITH OR RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT OF THIS WEB SITE.

I have to quote that verbatim, uppercase and all, including the poor use of the word "nor" (personal bug of mine). It’s also supposed to be in 12-point font, so please adjust your browsers accordingly.

I state where I work not because I want to discuss the CHP but rather, California politics and especially the budget. On July 31, 2008, Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger cut my pay to the Federal minimum wage of $6.55 an hour. It’s been a long time since I’ve worked for minimum wage, and at that time I had a wife, house, two cars, two kids, and two cats to take care of.

In terms of its internal politics, California is the most entertaining state in the union. We have the initiative process, by which we the people can enact legislation. Tax increases require a two-thirds vote of the state legislature. And cuts in mandated programs require a two-thirds vote of the state legislature.

Each of these – looked at separately – is perfectly justifiable. The initiative process allows for direct democracy. If our elected fooles refuse to act, we can force their hand by collecting sufficient signatures to put a measure on the ballot. It then goes up for a general vote. If it passes, voila, a new law enacted by the citizens of the state. It’s an excellent process, by and large, one available in – if memory serves – 23 other states. Needless to say, “progressives” and state government officials hate it, but bummer for them.

The tax increase restriction is a by-product of Proposition 13, which in turn was a citizen’s initiative that shut down what was, at the time, a confiscatory property tax scheme. In order to protect the change from being over-turned by the legislature, the two-thirds vote requirement was put into place. So if the state decides it needs to increase its revenues somehow (i.e., raise taxes) is has to have a super-majority vote to do so.

And last, there’s the same super-majority requirement to cancel mandated programs, or entitlements. This, too, is – at least in part – to prevent the legislature from tossing out citizen-enacted laws. But it also protects programs enacted by previous legislatures.

Here’s where all this comes together. California has a budget that is “structurally defective”, rendering us functionally bankrupt. Something like 85% of any year’s budget is spent even before the budget is enacted. That is, the money is already committed. For example, in 2002 we passed a measure to fund additional pre-school programs. For 2008, those programs require $500 million. Because it was passed via the initiative process, it would take a two-thirds vote of the legislature to remove this program. Failing that, there’s half a billion dollars of the budget already “spent”.

The California state budget is riddled with similar programs and spending requirements. A previous initiative mandated that 50% of the state’s budget go toward education. Due to a number of little factors, the actual percentage is more like 45%, but the point remains. Almost half the budget is committed to education, all other considerations are suspended.

Then there’s the two-thirds vote requirement to increase taxes. Just so we're clear, taxes are the only way any government “makes” money. To increase revenues (taxes), you need a two-thirds vote.

Only it won’t happen. Democrats control some 60% of the legislature, but to enact their tax increases requires 67%. Thus, once a year they must condescend to deal with Republicans. This is the time of year, therefore, that Republicans attempt to get some of their proposals enacted because this is the only time of year they stand a chance.

And so we are at impasse. To cut programs takes a two-thirds vote, and the Democrats don’t want to cut anything. To raise taxes takes a two-thirds vote, and the Republicans don’t want to raise taxes. The Sacramento area bird-crap rag, the Sacramento Bee, reports this in a most unusual way. They complain that the Republicans don’t offer any specifics on what programs they want to cut. In the same breath they say the Democrats offer tax increases and program cuts...without specifying what their cuts are. Seems both sides are lacking specifics, but since the Bee is in the Democrat’s back pocket they won’t point out anything so obvious.

All of which leads me back to the governor cutting my pay to the Federal minimum wage. Everyone is screaming he’s doing an evil thing, but everyone’s ignoring that it’s the state legislature’s job to pass a balanced budget before July 1 of each year. They never do. Under state law, the state isn’t supposed to spend any money if there’s no budget. Now Federal law mandates some spending (e.g., wages, hence why I'm getting minimum wage rather than no wage) but the point remains that California can’t spend money without a budget and the budget is primarily the responsibility of the legislature.

Which sits on its hands, collecting its zero interest “loan” paychecks and per diem (because they can't get paid, either). And they scream at the governor while bragging that just the other day they worked a whole four hours on the budget. Four hours. Four. “Hypocrite” just doesn’t say enough.

At some point in the next month or so, the legislature will rouse itself from its sense of self-importance and forward a budget for the governor’s signature. I guarantee you that he’ll reject the first one because it will lack budget process reforms that he’s demanding. People will scream, fingers will be pointed, revisions will be made. Someone will blink and the budget will be enacted. All this will be swallowed by the memory hole.

Until next year, when the same dance with the same tune will begin again.

Just wanted to share...

2008-07-30T23:34:00.001-07:00

Ingredients:

3 oz. sweet and sour (I prefer Finest Call)
1.5 oz. Sauza Anejo Commemorative tequila
0.5 oz. Cointreau
0.5 oz. Presidente brandy
A splash of lime
A splash of orange juice

Shake all ingredients with ice, serve over ice. Salt the rim if you desire, I generally do not.

Now, that's the original recipe except I like adding a bit more citrus (hence the lime and OJ), but I am becoming disgruntled with the Commemorative tequila. First, it almost seems like Sauza is disowning it. If you Google "Sauza tequila" you'll be hard-pressed to see them confessing, let alone bragging, about distilling Commemorative.

Second, and I admit I was delinquent in not catching this, despite being labeled "Anejo", this is not a 100% agave tequila. This is akin to making a fine margarita with Jose Cuervo Gold. You. Just. Can't. Do. It.

Strange, though, all the above still makes for a fine drink. I would encourage you to follow my lead, though, and explore the use of other, truer, better tequilas. Don Julio Anejo is awesome, as is Jose Cuervo Reserva de la Familia...either mixed as above or straight from the bottle, why dirty a glass?

But since these are $65-$120 a bottle, I think I need to find something a little cheaper.

Ah, a quest. It's good to have a quest....

Not the Hero We Deserve, But the Hero We Need

2008-07-28T18:54:00.001-07:00

The Dark Knight is the best film I’ve seen in years. Not just the best “superhero” film, but the best film of any type. It’s not perfect, not quite a masterpiece, but it’s flaws are, to me, tiny and overwhelmed by the time the film ends. While relatively bloodless, it is consistently brutal, not just in what it depicts but in the themes that drive it. TDK is a film for adults, please leave the kids at home.

Let’s deal with those “flaws” first, the largest being the character Rachel Dawes. In Batman Begins, I blamed Katie Holmes. Her acting was weak, to say the least, which is regrettable in that who she is and what she says and does are important to the film. Critics agreed and either for that or other reasons, Katie was replaced by Maggie Gyllenhaal, who is a better actress. Yet here she’s weak, real weak. Maybe it’s the character, not the actress, which is frustrating because Rachel is a pivotal character.

The film, at almost two and a half hours, might be a shade long. Having said that, I’m hard-pressed to think of where and what could be cut.

There, I’m done with my complaints. For TDK, Christopher Nolan has tossed aside his usual film gimmick, that of jumbling up time-lines and the like. Instead, he adopts a straight-forward narrative line and TDK, especially compared to what is essentially its prequel, is much the better for it. The film starts with a bang then slows a tad as it starts introducing our main characters and their respective plot-lines. From there, and with deceptive ease, the film begins to accelerate.

To call TDK dark is akin to saying that being burnt alive is painful. It’s an accurate statement but doesn’t really describe the sensation. Again and again matters within the film point toward an inevitable conclusion, but in a standard superhero film that conclusion is deftly (if improbably) avoided. Consider the Spider-Man films, where Peter Parker is often faced with either saving the love of his life or a lot of people. He always finds the third option and saves everyone.

That doesn’t happen in TDK. Things are messy in TDK, and the results aren’t always what we want or desire. Choices have to be made, hard choices. The film dances with Nietzsche’s notion that when you fight monsters, you must be careful not to become a monster yourself. There are deft comic moments to provide some relief, and there are also touches of humanity, one of the best being the answer to the question, “What are you doing?” Namely: “What you should have done ten minutes ago.”

In the end, though, in order to fight a monster you do have to become a monster. In TDK, Batman (once more played to perfection by Christian Bale) is confronted with the Joker – a character re-defined by the late and now undeniably great Heath Ledger in much the same way that Val Kilmer re-defined Doc Holliday; both actors have set the bars so high it’s doubtful anyone else will ever come close. The Joker is, as the ever-wise Alfred says, a man who just wants to watch the world burn. He cannot be bought. You cannot reason with him. You cannot negotiate terms. You can only confront him...or run.

TDK, with a sense of realism that’s missing in so many films – superhero or otherwise – conveys that with crystal clarity. There is no clean way to deal with him, good men are going to have to get dirty. Batman has one solid rule, a bright line he will not cross, and that is to kill only when it is unavoidably necessary. The Joker, time and again, brings Batman to that line, intent on making him – and the rest of society – cross it. “I’m not a monster,” he says. “I’m just ahead of the curve.”

By the end of TDK, I was drained and speechless. It seems strange to watch a film woven from fantasy that is so raw in its depiction of reality. There is much to analogize here, but the basic themes of the film are what drive it. There is evil in the world, and dealing with it is a messy affair. Any study of World War II, the “good” war, or any war for that matter, will illustrate both. Those who believe war is never justified, or that it can be fought in neat, precise, bloodless fashion, or that it can be avoided if we just talk enough, are the ones living in a fantasy world. The Dark Knight, a fantasy film, denies us that escape from reality.

TDK creates an absolute evil and puts it in opposition to an absolute good. If I may indulge in a tiny spoiler here, let me just say that Batman is not that absolute good. In defense of good, good men must often take on the ways of evil. In The Dark Knight, that’s Batman.

The agony of the film is summed up by Commissioner Gordon (Gary Oldman): “Now he must run...because we must chase him.” The heart of the film, though, is summed up by another line from Gordon, and is the one that still haunts me, days later:

[H]e’s the hero Gotham deserves, but not the one it needs right now.

A Dark Knight indeed.

Film: Hancock

2008-07-09T20:49:00.001-07:00

Hancock is, in a way, the polar opposite of WALL-E. The critics loved WALL-E, hated Hancock. Both Dirty Harry and Kyle Smith were mediocre on WALL-E and liked Hancock. I was frustrated by much of WALL-E and bought into Hancock completely.

That’s partly because I like a good superhero film. (I am so on the edge of my seat in anticipation of The Dark Knight.) Hancock is a superhero film with a few twists, most of which I can't discuss because that would be major spoilerage. (Yeah, yeah, I spoiled away with WALL-E, but really, did it matter?)

The twist to the superhero genre I can discuss is the one on display in the previews: Hancock is an alcoholic disaster of a superhero.

That concept alone would probably have been enough to get me into the theatre, but it has the added bonus of being portrayed by the mighty Will Smith. On the Fourth of July I naturally watched Independence Day. It’s amazing how far he’s come since then, and back then he was damn good. Sure, much of what Smith does in Hancock is Will Smith being Will Smith, but when you’re this smooth, cool, and good, does that really matter? Much (most? all?) of the time when George Clooney is on the screen he’s just being George Clooney, and that sucks. It does not suck when Smith is being Smith.

Hancock, our drunken superhero, is a living, breathing example of destroying the village in order to save it. In the film’s opening bit of “heroics”, he destroys much of a freeway, more than a few police cars, and leaves the villains and their SUV atop a skyscraper, incurring even more costs to get them down. In another bit, when a car is trapped sitting across the railroad tracks, rather than simply pick the car up and move it, he tosses it onto over cars and lets the train hit him, causing a massive derailment and even more damage.

The problem for the city of Los Angeles, of course, is that Hancock is invulnerable, has super strength, and can fly. How can they arrest him? How can they contain him? So while he violates an endless string of laws, and as hundreds of civil suits stacked up against him, he’s pretty much untouchable.

This is a brilliant setup and the film probably could have run this way for its entire length (a trim and taut 92 minutes, a blessing in an age where every film is treated to an epic length). Not content with that, though, the filmmakers kick the film in a wholly unexpected direction, one that deepens Hancock’s character, creates plausible (within the film’s universe) relationships and conflicts, and lets the film build toward a tremendous finale.

Unlike, say, WALL-E, Hancock is all plot. Events that happen to not apply directly to plot are there to establish character points or relationships. And unlike a slew of other films that have polluted theatres lately, Hancock embraces the concept of self-sacrifice. Kyle Smith also believes that Hancock, the superhero, is in fact a witty defense of United States.

I’ll let you read his reasoning, but suffice to say here that I agree.

Contrary to what most MSM critics are saying, Hancock is great fun and well worth your time, especially if you’d like to see a new spin on the superhero.

Film: WALL-E

2008-07-09T20:36:00.001-07:00

WALL-E was pretty firmly on my “wait until DVD” list until I saw the reactions to reviews by Dirty Harry and Kyle Smith. The MSM and elsewhere declared WALL-E the best thing since anything, while Harry and Kyle were less than impressed. Moonbats swept in. It seemed that anyone with a conservative bent who spoke ill of the little robot that could was in for a pounding. I needed to see what all the hub-bub was about.

In WALL-E, humans have trashed the planet. In response, the vast corporation that runs the entire planet (hey, capitalism wins it all!) evacuates everyone from Earth, leaving behind an army of Waste Allocation Load Lifter-Earth-class robots (WALL-E) to clean up. It’s supposed to be a five-year mission. Things go awry and our story begins 700 years after the planetary evacuation, with one robot still at work. His lonely world is disrupted by the arrival of EVE (Extraterrestrial Vegetation Evaluator), sent to Earth in search of life.

In terms of computer cinematic technology, WALL-E is brilliant, but this is, after all, a Pixar film. They get better with each film, so while it’s brilliant it’s more evolutionary than revolutionary. I know that sounds like damning with faint praise, but for me there is no moment in WALL-E equal to what Pixar has done in films like Finding Nemo or Ratatouille.

Except with WALL-E himself. Incredible attention to a host of details brings that square chunky guy to life. With barely a word, the relationship that stirs between WALL-E and EVE is touching and engaging. The creative geniuses at work here deserve applause and praise. Too bad they couldn’t hang in there for the whole film.

[Warning, spoilers ahead!]

Because once the film soars into space and goes aboard the fat ship Axiom, it all starts going to hell. In short, I loved the robots and their story, loathed the humans and their story. The humans are, for no good reason, repellant at all sorts of levels and in all sorts of ways. They are morbidly obese and wrapped in a consumerism-obsessed world. All humanity seems to have been leached from them and fed to the machines. And even there, while I generally loved the robots, the more they added, the more clichéd they became.

(Notable exception: M-O, Microbe-Obliterator. I loved that little scrubbing robot. One of my favorite moments in the film is when M-O is faced with either following his path or doing his job. The determination he exhibits when he jumps the path to pursue the dirt is awesome. That he’s casually a hero is a bonus.)

Because I loved WALL-E, I kept wondering: What happened to all the other WALL-E units? How did our WALL-E become the sole survivor? How did he become sentient? How did he develop emotion? Is he becoming lonely, is he slipping toward despair? I can’t stress enough how much I wanted to see that story.

Alas, it was not meant to be, which meant I had to try and overcome massive plot-holes and inconsistencies: Why are the Earth-class WALL’s dinky while those aboard the Axiom-class are huge (and freakin’ awesome)? The Axiom doesn’t recycle, it just compacts and tosses its garbage into space, so where do its resources, which have lasted 700 years, come from? What happened to the fleet? If all the plants are dead, where’s the oxygen coming from? If the atmosphere was toxic, what cleaned it? How does a plant survive in a dark, locked box? Why is there only one cockroach?

On and on.

The anti-consumer/anti-capitalism aspects of the story were consistently intrusive. The rule is if it doesn’t add to the plot, it’s comment. Here, they substituted comment for plot. That they did so in a $180 million film, wrapped with consumer/capitalist tie-ins, drips with irony.

Other than for purposes of commentary: There was no need to have a massive corporation (Wal-Mart?) running the planet; humans didn’t have to evolve into variations of the Pillsbury dough boy; and humans didn’t have to shun all real contact with each other, focusing instead on the video image in front of them.

None of these added to the plot. Instead, they blasted me out of the film again and again.

Andrew Stanton, the film’s writer/director, says he never intended any ecological message in WALL-E. His concept was of a story about the last robot left on earth. The destruction of the Earth’s biosphere is the impetus to get humanity off-world, ultimately leaving WALL-E alone. I believe him because the ecological disaster is integral to the plot, both its setup and resolution.

As filmed, though, why do humans want to return to Earth? By all indications, they can continue as a space-faring race forever. The ships left on a five-year mission, but they’re doing fine after 700 years. Given their morbid obesity, remaining in space is actually better for humanity.

Take away the consumer/capitalism commentary and the story cleans right up. AUTO -- the HAL-like computer running the ship -- had a valid argument for not returning to Earth, that there was little proof that the Earth could once again sustain life. His resistance is a natural outgrowth of his programming, to protect humanity.

Recycling on a spaceship is a natural thing to do, so you could have had humans learning to recycle the hard way, by necessity. Since a spaceship is a closed eco-system, the humans would have to deal with dwindling resources. The result of that would be that as long as it remains in space, humanity is doomed.

Those two points in opposition mean conflict and that equals drama, the sort that drives a story along.

Told this way, the plant WALL-E gives EVE is mankind’s salvation. The story arcs of the robots and the humans now dove-tail. A trifle trite, maybe, but these are just thoughts off the top of my head. Besides, it’s all in the presentation. Just ask WALL-E.

WALL-E demonstrated care and skill with its titular character, but the sloppy and snarky nature of the rest ruins the film for me.

Misanthropy, the New Hollywood Trend?

2008-07-07T19:38:00.001-07:00

Wikipedia, that unauthoritative authority on all things, says that misanthropy is...

...a general dislike, distrust, or hatred of the human species, or a disposition to dislike and/or distrust other people.

This has clearly been the environmental movements' opinion for some time. You can tell this simply by listening. When they warn of environmental dangers it is always coached in terms of threat to the planet, not to humans. Extreme examples of this can be found in most any flyer from ELF, ALF, and Greenpeace. It's also the subtle undertone to any intonations from the Goreacle.

This now seems to be a trend in Hollywood, at least for this year. First there was The Happening, which pretty much says that humans don't deserve to live. Depending on how you spin it, some have commented that WALL-E is another, but I've heard contrary arguments and will wait 24 hours before commitment (which is when I plan on actually seeing WALL-E).

And coming soon, the sacrilege that is known as the 2008 remake of The Day the Earth Stood Still. The original is one of my favorite films, regardless of genre. A lot of people find it annoying because it's vaguely anti-McCarthy and vaguely pro-Communist. I find both objections weak.

I might agree with objections to the new one, though, especially given its declared pro-environment leaning. The recently released trailer holds a hint of that bent, as ~~the robot~~ Klaatu played by ~~the robot~~ Keanu Reeves intones:

If the earth dies, you die. If you die, the earth survives.

Wow, deep, And such utter crap. If somehow, someway, tomorrow the human race actually found itself in possession of The Big Red Button of Earthly Destruction and someone, just for grins, giggles, and the sake of misanthropic adventure, were to actually press it and "kill" the planet, what result?

If you believe in a loving, omnipotent God we'll probably get a lecture about being better stewards or some such. He will then hit the reset switch and on we'll go.

If you are of a more atheistic bent, however, you know what will happen. Tides will rise and fall according to the assorted laws of physics at play. The planet will continue to spin about the sun for the same reasons. At some point an amino acid will come into existence and entire evolutionary parade will begin again.

In other words, humans can't kill the planet. The planet just doesn't care. We are millimeter marks on the measure of the planet's life. This entire attitude, this hubris, infects the entire modern environmental movement and it defies logic and reason.

Now, if you want to say that we, the human race, might be in danger, well then that's more honest. But honesty is not a strong trait within The Movement and certainly not in the latest misanthropic films we're seeing.

Oh, and why is the remake such a sacrilege? Because first there's that general rule of thumb that great classics should be left the hell alone. If someone were to remake Casablanca I would have to hunt them down and wreak all levels of mayhem upon them. (I'm sure Roger Ebert would get to them first, though.)

More to the immediate point is the turning upside-down of Klaatu's mission to earth and the message he delivers. In the original, the message is simple: Don't export war. Do whatever you like to yourselves and your own planet. Come out to the stars, join us, have fun, bring tequila, wait until you try our margaritas. But leave the guns at home 'cuz if you come out here and start a ruckus then Gort and his buddies will kick your ass from here to breakfast and back again. Peace!

In other words, the aliens were not busy-bodies sticking their noses into human business. In the remake, it appears that they are precisely that. They are here to annihilate mankind in defense of the planet, because the planet is far more important than we are. Misanthropic bastards!

Happy 4th of July

2008-07-04T12:27:00.000-07:00

The United States is often described as an imperial power commanding an empire unlike any in history. Like a lot of Americans, I often bristle at that description but there’s some kernel of truth. We have exceeded the common bounds of a “superpower” and are often described as a “hyperpower” because there is no one on Earth who can match us in terms of military might. As Thomas Madden writes:

As you read this, American military might is deployed across the planet. The U.S. Navy is literally larger than all of the other navies in the world combined. The United States military accounts for almost one-half of total global military expenditures. Never before in human history has there been such a disparity in power among sovereign states.

And yet if we are an empire we are singular in lacking imperial desires. Former secretary of state Colin Powell said it best when he rebuked the
archbishop of Canterbury on the claim that our only reason for invading Iraq was to build “a new American empire”. Powell’s reply:

We have gone forth from our shores repeatedly over the last 100 years...and put wonderful men and woman at risk, many of whom have lost their lives, and we have asked for nothing except enough ground to bury them in.

Ever wonder where that ethic came from? I argue that it is inherent in our military and has been from the moment of its creation. George Washington is often described as the “Father of Our Country” but more significantly, he was the father of the US military. Rich Lowry, also at National Review, writes:

[W]hen the war ended, he resigned his command and returned to Mount Vernon. Upon hearing the news, an astonished King George III said, “If he does that, he will be the greatest man in the world.” Before he did, Washington had a last instance of drama with his Army. Camped in Newburgh, N.Y., at the end of the war in 1783, the Army grew restive because Congress was tardy in paying it. Insurrection was in the air.
In a tense meeting with his officers, Washington told them that in rejecting rebellion, “You will give one more distinguished proof of unexampled patriotism and patient virtue, rising superior to the pressure of the most complicated sufferings; And you will, by the dignity of your Conduct, afford occasion of Posterity to say, when speaking of the glorious example you
have exhibited to Mankind, ‘had this day been wanting, the World had never seen the last stage of perfection to which human nature is capable of attaining.’”
The day wasn’t wanting, nor were the men in arms who vindicated the declaration.

We’re not a perfect nation or a perfect people, we’re just the best the world has yet seen. On this Fourth of July, remember the legacy of the men and women who made it so.

HBO Films: Recount

2008-05-19T17:55:00.000-07:00

HBO Films is about to show Recount, a behind the scenes dramatization of the 2000 US presidential election, specifically the Florida state recount(s). The usual left-leaning suspects are in hand, meaning this will about as even-handed as a Michael Moore "documntary". But in general I like HBO Films. Since I don't subscribe to HBO, though, I'll be waiting for the DVD.

Part of my problem with the film is summed up in an MSNBC article that describes one side in the recount acting fairly while the other isn't.

The film portrays the efforts of both camps to tilt the scales, one seemingly fairly and one not, in order to give their candidate the greatest chance of winning.

Gee, wonder which is which?

The larger issue is that I'm fairly certain that this docu-drama will miss a few pertinent points. The first, of course, is that except for a college-concocted recount scheme that no one, at the time, thought of, let alone endorsed, Bush won all the recounts.

Second is the statistical fact of life that the margin of victory was never going to be greater than the margin of error.

Third, that efforts to "count every vote" apparently did not include the military absentee vote.

And fourth, and actually the historical fact of the matter, that the central issue was not the vote counts. The problem was the Florida Supreme Court inventing new ways to count votes and extending the deadlines for doing so. This was and is in clear violation of the seperation of powers. They had strayed into the legislative function and it was on that basis that the US Supreme Court shut 'em down.

Since that seperation of powers, the very basis for checks and balances in the US system of government, is of such alleged importance to lefties and Democrats, you'd think they'd applaud the ruling.

But that would required adhering to principles rather than succombing to BSD. Oops.

Happy Mother's Day, Mom

2008-05-11T15:19:00.001-07:00

I have often thought that my parents had a careful division of labor. My dad taught me craft, my mom taught me art. My dad taught me ethics, my mom taught me morals. In one regard things weren't equal though, and that was in regarding to reading and writing. Dad had no time for fiction, mom had little time for non-fiction. I followed after my mom, at least until recently.

Mom forgave me the fact that I never liked, and still don't like, Steinbeck. I prefer Heinlein and Clark and Asimov and Bradbury and Ellison. She was my first reader and most honest critic. When she read Derelict's first draft in a day I knew I had something that could sell.

One of my best memories revolves around her birthday in 1975. My birthday treat to mom was to take her to a movie and buy her Bon-Bons. 1975 was the year of Jaws, so that's where I took her. We were both fans of Peter Benchley's novel and I told her going in, since I'd already seen the film a few times, that I thought it might actually be better than the book. This, of course, to a reader is heresy.

And so we sat and watched Jaws at the Coliseum Theatre in San Francisco one week night. We managed to ignore the fool behind us (though it was entertaining listening to him go from "This film sucks" to deep breathing in the middle, to screaming at the end, "Shoot, shoot!"). By halfway though the film she was clinging to my arm, Bon-Bons (almost) forgotten. Every time she jumped my shoulder felt like it was dislocated.

But I didn't mind. I was with my mom. And at the end she said, "Y0u know, Robert [she always called me that, "Bob" being reserved for my dad], you might be right. It's at least as good as the book."

My mom concluded God's work for her on this world in 1995. That's 13 years now and I miss her every day, especially on this day. I know she and dad are out there waiting for me, excited to resume some discussion on one thing or another.

Until then I have memories, like seeing Jaws, and feel well blessed yet undeserving of a mother such as her.

Happy Mother's Day, Mom!

Why Old Presidents Should Fade Away...

2008-04-22T18:54:00.001-07:00

The Islamic Resistance Movement believes that the land of Palestine is an Islamic Waqf consecrated for future Moslem generations until Judgment Day. It, or any part of it, should not be squandered: it, or any part of it, should not be given up. Neither a single Arab country nor all Arab countries, neither any king or president, nor all kings and presidents, neither any organization nor all of them, be they Palestinian or Arab, possess the right to do that. Palestine is an Islamic Waqf land consecrated for Moslem generations until Judgment Day.

(From the Hamas charter.)

Jimmy Carter recently made an ass of himself. Actually, he made a bigger ass of himself, because he is, by nature, an ass.

You might gather that I don't care much for Mister Carter. You would be correct.

Last week he opted to meet with a collection of brutal, sadistic, homicidal bastards who wrap themselves in a pretense of faith and call themselves "Hamas". One tiny branch of Hamas gives kids some candy. The majority of Hamas gives those same kids explosive vests and teaches them how wonderful it is to blow yourself to smithereens; wonderful, that is, as long as you take a bunch of Jews with you. Otherwise you're just an idiot.

Carter has already patted himself on the back, thinking he's achieved something by getting Hamas to say that under the right conditions they would accept Israel as a neighbor. There are a few problems with this, the biggest being:

Hamas accepts the establishment of an independent Palestinian state on the 1967 borders with East Jerusalem as its capital and with full and real sovereignty and full application of the right of Palestinian refugees to return but Hamas will not recognize the state of Israel.

So sayeth Khaled Meshal (I've seen alternate spellings; this is the one used in the article), one of the Hamas thugs Carter met with and, presumably, got the advertised agreement with, as quoted by the New York Times. As they say in the biz: Oops. And if that isn't enough, from Mahmoud al-Zahar, a founder of Hamas, writing in a Washington Post Op-Ed:

Our movement fights on because we cannot allow the foundational crime at the core of the Jewish state -- the violent expulsion from our lands and villages that made us refugees....

[...]

A "peace process" with Palestinians cannot take even its first tiny step until Israel first withdraws to the borders of 1967; dismantles all settlements; removes all soldiers from Gaza and the West Bank; repudiates its illegal annexation of Jerusalem; releases all prisoners; and ends its blockade of our international borders, our coastline and our airspace permanently. ...

[...]

Our fight to redress the material crimes of 1948 is scarcely begun....

Meshal and al-Zahar state, both implicitly and explicitly, that Hamas will never recognize Israel. They reiterate the same demands Hamas has made since its inception. None of this is new or even newsworthy.

Hello, Mr. Carter, you ninny. You successfully "negotiated" with a group that disagrees with itself from one day to the next. You trumpet success, that Hamas agreed to an admittedly conditional peace, and within hours they say, "No, we didn't!" Catch a clue, sir. Of all the organizations on the face of the planet, Hamas is probably the one you may trust the least. When they lie they are speaking their native tongue. Lying is their language of choice. Whenever words come from their mouths your BS detector should overload. They are the epitome of that old joke: Q. How can you tell Hamas is lying? A. Their lips are moving.

But eventually even liars tell the truth. They will never settle for the 1967 borders. Their complaint is founded in the 1947 UN resolutions that set the stage for the creation of the State of Israel. They rail against the "material crime" of Israel's birth. They fight to eradicate Israel from the map, period. It's in their charter. It's what they live, breath, and kill for. They do not cry for peace, they cry for Jewish blood. They do not seek justice, they seek revenge.

In other words, Carter achieved less than nothing. His visit allowed Hamas to assume some air of legitimacy. Carter insists the problem isn't Hamas, the problem is that the US and Israel won't talk with Hamas. Thus, Carter polished Hamas' bloodstained hands to a high sheen and granted them a veneer of respectability, sort of like Al Capone donning a fancy suit just before he bashes some poor bastard's head in.

Consider their definition of a "cease-fire". They agree to a cease fire, which rational, warm, and conscious people will agree means that you stop shooting, that everyone stops shooting. And everyone does...for ten, maybe twenty seconds. And then a Hamas group launches a volley of rockets at an Israel village. This, most rational, warm, and conscious people would agree represents a breaking of the cease-fire, but in the language of Hamas a cease-fire means Israel stops shooting; Hamas is free to fire at will. And so the cease-fire is broken when Israel shoots back.

This is so obvious, their lies so transparent, that otherwise rational folk have to do amazing feats of mental gymnastics. They will have to agree that a cease-fire means that Israel stops defending itself, that Hamas can do whatever it wants, like some spoiled, petulant, wrathful child. Indeed, only by treating Hamas as a child can these people let such homicidal thugs get away with what they do.

And since Carter treats everyone like a child, as though he is the only adult in the room, he gets along with Hamas just swimmingly. Unfortunately, Carter is also like a spoiled, petulant, wrathful child. Which explains a lot. Maybe some day he'll grow up and recognize who the liars in the room are. Until then, we can only watch in wonder...

The suckage of Southland Tales

2008-03-21T17:36:00.001-07:00

Southland Tales is that special movie that made me appreciate all the more the subtle charms, intense relationships, tight plotting, and vivid characters of Dragon Wars.

It would be easy to dismiss Southland as an extreme example of what happens when filmmakers succumb to Bush Derangement Syndrome (BDS), but that would be giving them an easy out. No, Southland is the result of a writer-director ego gone wild, serving only itself, and refusing to actually, you know, make a film. D-Wars has more respect for the audience, and D-Wars, just for the records, stank on ice.

Southland is from Richard Kelly, the same man who brought us Donnie Darko, a movie which kept you trying to figure out what the in hell is going on right up until then end, when all very neatly came together. Whether Donnie worked for you or not (and it did for me), it tried to tie everything up. In Southland, Kelly plainly didn't give a crap. Anyone reading deeper meaning into anything within this film is exercising their own imagination because Kelly couldn't be bothered. And God bless you for trying, because it's a shame that he couldn't be bothered. I don't mind dense films, I don't mind films with ambiguous endings/meanings/plots. I can stand a slew of filmmaking "mistakes". What I can't stand is a film that has contempt for its audience, and Southland oozes contempt. It doesn't even make a vague wave at coherence.

It might be easy to dismiss my extreme reaction as a result of the film's unrelenting assault on all things Republican, but the film is also unrelenting in its depiction of the loathsome "Neo-Marxists". Democrats get a pass; in fact, they're completely absent from the stage and conflict. On second thought, that may be the movie's most clever trick, commenting on a political party by rendering them completely absent. How apropos!

In any event, the Neo-Marxists are despicable in their own right, perfectly willing to sacrifice their own in some convoluted scheme to destroy capitalism and dethrone God. Good luck with that! In the end, it's all pointless as a random man with a random weapon destroys everything. Meanwhile, we wait for the metaphysical subplot to become the plot and bring it all together and instead we get semi-weepy eyes and an oozing eye socket, and it all ends with the line: "Pimps don't commit suicide." Wow, what a revelation.

Stupid things happen right and left, and plot-holes are a way of life. Southland faithful, if there are any, would note that the movie is actually the last three parts of a six-part graphic novel, and if you read the first three the film makes "more sense". To which I reply: Nonsense! The film is incoherent on its own terms. It's as though the director tossed a Scrabble set into the air and expected all the pieces to fall into place via the natural pull of gravity. You can tell me that the first three chapters accurately describe the box, but in the end it's a mess all over the floor.

There's a startling lack of talent on display. Southland is over-acted to a fault rather than to a stylistic point. To be honest, I found Dwayne Johnson rather affecting. But think about that. A former wrestler named The Rock does the best acting in the film! Rather than feeling like the director knew what he was doing and assembling a plotless ensemble piece, it feels like a wandering trip of lousy dialogue desperately attempting to disguise that there's no sort of attempt at a story.

It's been over 24 hours since I watched Southland and the memory keeps getting worse. In part this is because the original elements all sounded intriguing. It's an alternate universe story, which is always fun. It involves an energy source with limitless promise that is destroying the very fabric of space and time, and only one man with amnesia "knows"...and if he remembers it may cause the end of everything. Surround that with a nation driven to the insane level of paranoia because of twin nuclear attacks. For extra spice, add the conflicting desires and ambitions of several who want to achieve world domination. How can you go wrong with all that in place? Well, Richard Kelly shows how.

And in part I feel let down by Kelly, whose previous work, Donnie, I enjoyed. Despite all the other negative reviews I'd seen, I wanted to give Southland a chance only to find that nothing I had read was negative enough. Maybe I'm reacting this strongly because I'm a lover scorned. Or maybe it's because of the relentless and childish assault on all things Republican (come on, people, at least show some imagination in your insults). Or maybe it's all the above.

Bottom line: Southland Tales is pathetic. Worse, it's a squandered opportunity.

David Mamet, no longer brain-dead

2008-03-12T23:38:00.001-07:00

I'm sort of a David Mamet fan. I qualify that because it's not as if I leap out and see every single thing he creates. I've never seen one of his plays on stage. If he's ever written a book, I've never read it. But I've seen a fair number of his films, and even the ones with mediocre plots are fascinating. Besides, his wife is smoking hot. Sexist? Absolutely, but she is and that's that.

I've always assumed he was a flaming liberal, and it would appear that I was correct. Despite that, one thing that always attracted me to his work is a sense of a inherent honesty. You watch his film The Winslow Boy and you know a liberal probably couldn't stand the traditions presented within the academy, yet Mamet treats them with due deference and respect. Thus he demonstrated that whatever his personal opinion, he was willing to explore both sides of an issue.

And now I read his startling conversion (as it were) in The Village Voice and there's a sense of kinship. I grew up in a Democrat household. Both my parents would have rather swallowed nails than ever vote for a Republican. While my father was usually mum on the issue, my mother cried out for government intervention, to shut down evil corporations, to stop the horror of capitalism...even while accepting all the benefits that capitalism could provide. My mother was a beautiful contradiction, God rest her soul.

And so from Mamet I read...

I'd observed that lust, greed, envy, sloth, and their pals are giving the world a good run for its money, but that nonetheless, people in general seem to get from day to day; and that we in the United States get from day to day under rather wonderful and privileged circumstances—that we are not and never have been the villains that some of the world and some of our citizens make us out to be, but that we are a confection of normal (greedy, lustful, duplicitous, corrupt, inspired—in short, human) individuals living under a spectacularly effective compact called the Constitution, and lucky to get it.

And then there was this:

I found not only that I didn't trust the current government (that, to me, was no surprise), but that an impartial review revealed that the faults of this president—whom I, a good liberal, considered a monster—were little different from those of a president whom I revered.

Bush got us into Iraq, JFK into Vietnam. Bush stole the election in Florida; Kennedy stole his in Chicago. Bush outed a CIA agent; Kennedy left hundreds of them to die in the surf at the Bay of Pigs. Bush lied about his military service; Kennedy accepted a Pulitzer Prize for a book written by Ted Sorenson. Bush was in bed with the Saudis, Kennedy with the Mafia. Oh.

Now I would argue about the accusations made -- against both men -- but the central point remains the same. That any principled look at any president would find much to loathe, yet also much -- if not more -- to admire. And further, that the country continues, that our country is fundamentally good and thrives.

After examining in brief government as a whole, and the military and corporations in particular, Mamet makes the following observation:

[T]aking the tragic view, the question was not "Is everything perfect?" but "How could it be better, at what cost, and according to whose definition?" Put into which form, things appeared to me to be unfolding pretty well.

Rush Limbaugh couldn't have said it better. This is also is precisely the conclusion I came to not too terribly long ago. And when you reach this conclusion you can't help but be buoyed by an amazing sense of optimism, not to mention pride in our country. Yeah, that's right, we are that good.

I hear accusations of corporate greed and wonder what the accusers would put in place of corporations. They want to tax them at extortion-like rates, but continue to employ the millions that they do. How does that track as honest? Do they even understand how the free market works, how it must work?

The free-market system of the United States has created more wealth and freedom than any other system the world has ever seen. Some day some one may develop a viable replacement. When that happens, I will say, "Hurrah!" Until that happens, I am happy that Mamet's more careful research and soul-searching reaffirms what I firmly believe.

That the United States is a force for good in the world today. That we may stumble and bumble and occasionally not live up to our own lofty ideals, but that those ideals nonetheless allow us to pick ourselves up, dust off the mistake, and move on, all the better for it.

Some day I expect to once again see films and stories that tell this amazing tale. And some of them, I suspect, will be written by David Mamet, former brain-dead liberal, and that's gotta be a very good thing.