Tag Archive for 'Movies'

My Plan to Destroy Journalism

Okay, so I haven’t been showing Crabapple Cove much love of late, but I’ve been feeling a little tired and uninspired. I’m sure you know the drill. There’s also another reason — I’ve been moonlighting. I ran across a solicitation for contributors from national site Examiner.com. I cycled through their wants, did not see a listing for a correspondent for cartoons and animation, and politely asked if they’d be interested in having one. Oddly enough, they were. After a surprisingly rigorous application process, they offered me the gig. Actually, I shouldn’t use the word “gig” since that implies there’s money to be had. While there is some compensation, it’s pretty minimal — but cash wasn’t really why I signed on. I’ve been doing the column for almost a month and, while I’m still finding my voice and drafting my long-term plan, I am rather enjoying the process.

Stop by, have a look, and tell me what you think…

My Examiner.com column.

Snippets — 9/22/09

Extract:

Mike Judge’s Extract is a modest movie with the simple goal of telling a straightforward story in an unpretentious, almost old-fashioned way. It succeeds at this admirably. The movie isn’t loud or assaultive, it makes perfect sense, and it’s amusing without being overly crass — all of which means its operating under a handicap in today’s marketplace.

I’ve seen mostly middling reviews for Extract and I’m not sure why that is. As far as I’m concerned, Judge set himself a target and then hit that target. I have a feeling that, like Office Space, Extract will ultimately find its audience on home video.

The October Country:

The October Country is a collection of horror-themed short stories by a master of that form, Mr. Ray Bradbury. The book doesn’t disappoint in the slightest as nearly all of the stories are at the very least palatable, and one in particular (”The Lake”), was truly exceptional. It really is in shorter spurts that Bradbury manages to excel — the novel just isn’t the man’s forte. The Martian Chronicles is a set of interconnected short stories and not a proper novel at all, and Fahrenheit 451 (which I am currently revisiting and will talk more about later) has issues of its own. Fortunately, Ray has gifted us with something like eighty bazillion short stories so its not like there’s a dearth of material.

The Big Lebowski:

I’ve seen The Big Lebowski two or three times now and I’m still not sure what to make of it. Is it a film noir? Is it a comedy? I’m hesitant to tow the party line and call it a successful marriage of the two because film noir and comedy share an uneasy alliance in the film. I’m not just sure the melding is ever fully realized. However, much like Extract, “Lebowski” creates its own unique and internally consistent world and it is fun to inhabit that place for two hours.

Image of The Big Lebowski - 10th Anniversary Edition
Image of The October Country

Snippets — 9/16/09

Star Trek: The Original Series — Vol. One:

When you’re seven years old and your dad says you oughta check something out, by God you do. It was the early seventies, and Star Trek was apparently entering into its second wave of syndication. A commercial for the show appeared suddenly on our local UHF station, and I was immediately intrigued. Next to me, my dad looked out from behind his paper and said “Oh, hey, you should watch this. Spaceships, ray guns… Should be right up your alley.” The visuals I was seeing coupled with that prompting from my pops were all I needed to give Star Trek a whirl, and for many years thereafter, the original episodes were a constant companion to me. Sure, the spaceships and the ray guns were cool, but more than anything else, I enjoyed the chemistry between the three lead characters. I never doubted for a second that Kirk, Spock, and McCoy were friends and colleagues who respected one another. The fact that they happened to work together on a starship was almost incidental.

Over time, the Star Trek feature films became my primary touchstone for the doings of Kirk and his pals, and I lost touch with the original shows. Now, thanks to a tremendous new Blu-ray set, I’ve reconnected with the “Trek” of my youth. I hadn’t seen many of these episodes in close to twenty years and I was tickled at just how well they hold up. With the exception of one entry (”The Alternative Factor”), there’s really not a bum show in the whole lot. Right out of the gate, in Season One, we get classic episodes like “City on the Edge of Forever” and “Space Seed” (which introduced the world to Khan from Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan). Not only do we get well-told stories performed by fine actors, we get new visual effects which, I feel, enhance the experience tremendously. For you purists out there, give these remastered shows their day in court. The new FX are very much in keeping with the aesthetic of the old show. If the creators of the effects from the 1960s had had computer technology, they would have produced  shots which look very much like what we’ve been given in this set.

I’m Dying Up Here:

William Knoedelseder’s book I’m Dying Up Here: Heartbreak and High Times in Stand-up Comedy’s Golden Era tells the story of the rise of stand-up comedy as a mainstream force in entertainment in the middle 1970s. Comics like David Letterman, Robin Williams, and Richard Lewis feature prominently as does the strike against the Comedy Store in 1978. As I think I may have mentioned, I’m a bit of a comedy junkie so “I’m Dying Up Here” was fascinating stuff to me. Knoedelseder was obviously there when a lot of the events in the book went down and his access to the participants is impressive. If you were around during that era and you were a fan of stand-up as I was, definitely give the book a shot.

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1931):

The best thing about Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde is Fredric March’s performance — or, more specifically, his performance as Hyde. A lot of what goes on with Jekyll is pretty stock and uninteresting, but it’s a necessary contrast to the Hyde scenes which are a tour de force. March won an Oscar for the role and it’s not hard to see why — he’s simply outstanding.

Image of I'm Dying Up Here: Heartbreak and High Times in Stand-up Comedy's Golden Era
Image of Star Trek: The Original Series - Season 1 [Blu-ray]
Image of Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde Double Feature (1932/1941)

Postscript: The Perils of Hi-Def Redux:

I did have one problem with the Star Trek set which I failed to mention above… Periodically, the sound would drift out of sync and I would be forced to pause and then re-start the episode in order to correct the problem. A little online research quickly revealed that other Blu-ray early adopters were having similar issues — further proof that perhaps this new technology was not quite ready for prime time.

The Road Warrior

[80s-palooza Part 18]

Let me just throw out a quick mea culpa: I’ve been pretty busy working on something of a pseudo-professional nature and, sadly, the good ol’ Cove has been pretty far down my priority ladder as a result. Thus it is that I am now going to dash off a few words on a film I watched three weeks ago.

The Road Warrior deserves better than to be viewed and quickly forgotten, and my callousness in this regard shames me. The film is not only one of the ten best action flicks ever made, it is a marvel of world design (not to mention skill in physical production). “Warrior” depicts a future world which literally has no seams — the cars, the people, the sets — it’s all completely convincing. The story, as trifling as it is, connects on a visceral level, too. Despite the fact that Mel Gibson’s Max says probably less than a hundred words in the whole picture, you’re on his side all the way — particularly in the stunningly effective car chase that acts as the movie’s climax. Put simply, it’s one of the best action scenes ever committed to film.

The Road Warrior was a joy to revisit.

The 80s-Palooza Film Festival to Date:

  1. War Games
  2. The Sword and the Sorcerer
  3. Big Trouble in Little China
  4. The Beastmaster
  5. Buckaroo Banzai
  6. Dreamscape
  7. Excalibur
  8. To Live and Die in L.A.
  9. Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan
  10. Top Secret!
  11. The Thing
  12. Hoosiers
  13. Re-animator
  14. Lone Wolf McQuade
  15. Ghostbusters
  16. Monty Python’s Meaning of Life
  17. First Blood

Image of The Road Warrior [Blu-ray]

District 9

Let’s face it: Hollywood is all but creatively bankrupt — so much so that my future as a semi-regular moviegoer is, I feel, in jeopardy. In the development pipeline right now are films based on Stretch Armstrong, Slinky, and View-master (and, no doubt, there are sequels to Transformers and G.I. Joe in the offing as well). For me, a man who likes a well-told story with engaging characters, the outlook is decidedly grim. I would say that District 9 is a bright spot in an increasingly barren cinematic landscape, but there are two impediments to my making that claim:

1) The film was made outside of the system. The only thing we can say in praise of Hollywood in regards to “D9″ is that they had the good sense to distribute it (which is something, I suppose). On the other hand, it’s impossible for me to imagine director Neill Blomkamp going to an American studio, hat in hand, and asking them to finance this dark movie with no clear “rooting interest”. The execs would have laughed him right out the door.

2) “Bright spot” wouldn’t be a good term to describe District 9. The movie is relentlessly bleak, and people don’t want challenging stories (or at least Hollywood has decided that they don’t). Though the movie did well it’s opening weekend, don’t expect the sort of repeat business you sometimes get with lighter fare. If you go to see “D9″, be prepared to be uncomfortable for a lot of the running time, but at least try and console yourself with the fact that what you’re seeing is somewhat unique. I can’t help but wonder if, when “D9″ doesn’t end up making 200 million dollars domestic, it will be written off as a failure.

I enjoyed District 9 a lot, though, as you might have gathered, it is by no means a “feel good” summer movie. I don’t know about you, but not every flick I take in has to elevate me spiritually, however. In fact, we all need to be reminded from time to time of the darker side. “D9″ does that in an elegant and thoughtful way.

Funny People

I experienced a bit of a disconnect watching Funny People because it defied my expectations. The movie doesn’t fit with what I’ve come to think of as the Judd Apatow Brand — a brand than consists of about 75% raucous potty humor and 25% pathos. Sure, there are plenty of glimmers of the old Apatow, but this felt more like a Cameron Crowe movie than a direct descendant of something like The 40 Year Old Virgin. I happen to like Cameron Crowe’s work, but it’s still a little jarring when you go in thinking you’re going to get one thing and you end up with something else.  By the end of the movie, though, I got over my discombobulation and enjoyed myself. In fact, I’d say that, in some respects, this is Apatow’s best film to date. At the risk of sounding condescending, this feels like a “real movie” much more so than any of the director’s other  flicks. It’s a well-structured story told without farcical digression and it’s technically very well-made. Also, the acting is uniformly excellent (with a special shout-out going to Marshall Mathers who has a very amusing cameo).

So, just to give you some sort of touchstone of quality, here’s where I would rank Funny People on the Cameron Crowe O’meter: It’s not as good as Jerry Maguire, but it’s a lot better than Elizabethtown. Let’s call it Judd Apatow’s Almost Famous.

Groundhog Day

Okay, so Groundhog Day isn’t uproariously funny, but I don’t think that was ever really its intent. It’s actually a charming and sweetly old-fashioned movie much in the way that Tootsie with Dustin Hoffman is also a throwback. This story of a weatherman damned to a sort of purgatory is, I think, what you would get if Frank Capra and Rod Serling had somehow been able to collaborate. What I admire about it is the fact that it’s actually about something a thing you can say about precious few films. Hell, Groundhog Day even manages to be borderline spiritual and just a touch sublime. I enjoyed revisiting it very much.

Bruno

Let’s just cut to the chase, shall we? Bruno doesn’t have anywhere near the number of laughs per minute as Borat. That’d be a big enough problem by itself, but I was also bothered by the fact that both movies have pretty much the same story ( i.e. weird foreign guy comes to the United States on a mission, weird foreign guy hits rock bottom on an American sidewalk, weird foreign guy rebounds to live happily ever after). Overall, I’d call the flick a disappointment, but that doesn’t mean that it didn’t have its high points. Despite the comparison to its more successful forebear, Bruno has plenty of funny moments. If I had it to do over again, though, I probably would’ve waited until DVD or cable.

My disappointment not withstanding, I do think Sascha Baron Cohen is an enormously talented (and fearless) performer. I just hope he realizes that the pseudo-documentary style of his last two films is officially played out.

Harlan Ellison: Dreams with Sharp Teeth

Harlan Ellison: Dreams with Sharp Teeth is a documentary about writer Harlan Ellison. Ellison, who’s name has come up a time or two on this blog, is a well-respected and prolific author of essays, teleplays and short stories. Within the literary and science fiction communities, he’s something of a legend. That being said, however, he’s hardly the household name that he, perhaps, deserves to be. I can well understand how some of you reading this might say ‘I don’t know this Ellison guy… Should I bother with the movie?’ The answer to that question is a resounding ‘Hell, yes.’

First of all, let me just say that if you haven’t read Ellison’s work, you should seek it out. The guy writes like a proverbial sumbitch. He’s really very, very good. Experiencing his work, as I say, is not a prerequisite to enjoying the documentary, however. The simple reason for that is that Harlan himself is enormously entertaining. If there were a competition for World’s Angriest Jew (and, by God, don’t you think there ought to be?), Harlan would be right there in the running. The depth and breadth of his ire (on a wide range of topics) is damn funny — partly because you can’t believe just how incensed he can get and partly because you agree with nearly everything he says.  I laughed a lot watching “Dreams with Sharp Teeth”, and by the end, I was thinking I should pull my copy of The Essential Ellison down off the shelf again. The entertainer (and the businessman) in Harlan Ellison would no doubt be very pleased.

Annie Hall

Woody Allen has fallen out of favor to a degree in the last twenty years, and it’s not too hard to figure why. Sure, there was that creepy scandal back in the day, but more importantly, he’s become extremely inconsistent in his twilight years — so much so that his good films are more the exception than the rule.

I won’t lie: I was a big fan of the Woodman when he was at the height of his powers from the mid-seventies through the mid-eighties. His best work is still, I would argue, really damn good. But even when Allen was kicking ass and taking names (cinematically speaking), he still had his detractors. People would complain, ‘Oh, he’s so whiny and everyone in his movies is overly erudite and SO Upper West Side New York Liberal’. I won’t refute those complaints here because they’re accurate to a large degree. On the other hand, surrendering to those complaints entirely would be throwing out the baby with the bath water. While Allen’s films can be grating (depending on your sensibility), they’re also clever and they manage to strike a remarkable balance between wit and pathos. Though he has fallen out of favor even with yours truly, I wouldn’t trade his better films for anything. And by better films, I mean an off-the-top-of-my-head list like this one:

  1. Sleeper
  2. Annie Hall
  3. Manhattan
  4. Stardust Memories
  5. Radio Days
  6. Zelig
  7. The Purple Rose of Cairo
  8. Broadway Danny Rose
  9. Hannah and Her Sisters
  10. Crimes and Misdemeanors and
  11. Sweet and Lowdown

I don’t care who you are, that’s a pretty respectable list.

For many years (despite my earlier affection), I had taken a semi-unintentional hiatus from Woody Allen. I haven’t seen any of his movies in more than five years. Between my renewed interest in comedy and a 7$ price tag at Target, I decided to break my fast with a viewing of Annie Hall, Allen’s 1977 Best Picture Winner. All in all (and many of you won’t need me to tell you this), it’s a terrific movie. One of its greatest strengths, its brilliantly non-linear structure, is also responsible for some of its occasional wrong notes, however. Linking the jumbled dots of the narrative sometimes results in a clumsily expositional piece of dialogue, but that’s a small price to pay for giving me a story which I am allowed to construct myself in my head as it unfolds. Allen, by delivering his tale in asynchronous order, is clearly trusting us. I for one appreciate that. As for the comedy, “Hall” isn’t often laugh-out-loud funny, but it is able draw us into a compelling and believable portrait of two people and their relationship. It all feels very real and very warm. Watching the film again was pleasantly nostalgic for me — enough so that I’m thinking about tracking down a few of the other titles on the above list and giving them another go as well.

First Blood

[80s-palooza Part 17]

First Blood is certainly not a perfect movie. The funny thing is, though, that most of my issues with it revolved around the beginning and the end. Everything those two sections bracket is perfectly entertaining.

The first act of the film features Vietnam veteran John Rambo’s well-intentioned arrival in an unnamed town in the Pacific Northwest. Immediately upon crossing the border into said town, Johnny is harassed by some cartoonishly villainous cops who get him on a trumped-up vagrancy charge. This is where the trouble begins, narratively speaking. All Rambo wants is a place to crash and something to eat, but local law enforcement treats him like a newly-arrived Charles Manson. (Which is weird since he’s not even all that scruffy-looking. We’re talking about a man who is still recognizably Sylvester Stallone even under all of that hair.) I accepted the bombastic behavior on the part of the police as a pretext to the mayhem that ensues, but the sheer venom the cops hurl at our hero is a little tough to swallow at times. Once the sheriff and his boys drive Rambo into the woods, though, things pick up considerably. In fact, it’s nothing but good fun to watch Stallone –playing an ex-Green Beret– spring trap after trap on not only the local-yokels but also the hundreds of National Guard troops that are brought in once the indigenous coppers drop the ball. It’s this free-for-all (not to mention the show-down that takes place in the town immediately thereafter) that the movie’s really all about. Get to the action and you’re all good for a while. Unfortunately, after the action comes the problem of the finale. Or maybe “finale” is too triumphant a  word…

It’s not that the climax of First Blood is as awkward as the beginning, it’s more that there’s a substantial build-up and then things just… stop. If anything, the ending to the picture screams “sequel”. Things are left in such an unresolved place emotionally that you can’t help hoping there will be another entry in the Johnny Rambo saga. I suppose that in itself indicates that the filmmakers must have done something right.

The 80s-Palooza Film Festival to Date:

  1. War Games
  2. The Sword and the Sorcerer
  3. Big Trouble in Little China
  4. The Beastmaster
  5. Buckaroo Banzai
  6. Dreamscape
  7. Excalibur
  8. To Live and Die in L.A.
  9. Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan
  10. Top Secret!
  11. The Thing
  12. Hoosiers
  13. Re-animator
  14. Lone Wolf McQuade
  15. Ghostbusters
  16. Monty Python’s Meaning of Life

Appaloosa (Parker) & Lonely Are the Brave

Yesterday, quite by accident, I finished reading Appaloosa by Robert B. Parker and I also watched Lonely are the Brave, a 1962 film starring Kirk Douglas. It struck me not too long thereafter that the two are somewhat of a piece with one another. Cowboys striving against the forces of modernity is a perennial theme in Westerns, but that’s okay because it nearly always works (see Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid and The Wild Bunch for further proof). This Grand Theme is certainly used to great effect in both Appaloosa and Lonely Are the Brave.

I can sum up Robert B. Parker’s Appaloosa for you quickly: If you liked the movie, you’ll like the book. It’s actually pretty remarkable the fidelity with which Ed Harris adapted the  novel for the screen. Apart from making a few necessary excisions for running time, Harris basically just shot the book. I would say his only mistake was in casting Renee Zellweger as “Allie”. Others have commented (and I agree) that Zellweger is, at the risk of sounding crude, not nearly attractive enough for the role. The character, as Parker has written her, is a smart woman with the feminine wiles to cloud men’s minds. Zellweger can certainly do the smart part, but as for the rest… I’ll leave that up to you. (And, to be fair, I will say that a lot of the blame lies with the costumers and the make-up people — Zellweger looks plainer in Appaloosa than I’ve ever seen her look before.) Happily, in reading the novel, I was free to “recast” the role of Allie in my head, and this I did. (I kept everyone else the same in my “mind movie”: Ed Harris and Viggo Mortensen were perfect for their roles.) Of course the theme of marginalization I referred to above is just as present in the book as it is in the film. Two thirds of the way through the story, the forces of money and the modern world (in the form of the villain, Randall Bragg) move in and begin to force our two heroes out of their accustomed roles. The way this situation is ultimately resolved is better left for the reader to discover, but I was satisfied by that climax.

Bottom line: Appaloosa is a terrific book. It’s written in a clean, concise (almost Hemingway-esque) prose style and it goes down real easy. I’d be more than happy to read Parker again. In fact, part of the reason I read the  novel was that Parker has written two sequels featuring the same characters. I have every intention of “kindling” those as well.

Where Appaloosa takes place in the sunset years of the American West, Lonely Are the Brave takes place in the early 1960s, long after the true west had gone to its grave. The character played by Kirk Douglas is a sad anachronism, a man who doesn’t realize he’s about a century too late to the party. Our hero runs afoul of the local authorities in a New Mexico town and most of the movie is an extended chase with Douglas on one side and local sheriff Walter Matthau on the other. I’m hesitant to say too much more about the plot for fear of spoiling it; it’s just one of those things you have to see unspool from beginning to end to truly appreciate. That being said, here are some factoids to further entice you:

  1. Lonely are the Brave was adapted for the screen by former blacklist-ee Dalton Trumbo — one helluva fine writer who also did the script for Kirk Douglas’ Spartacus.
  2. Speaking of Douglas, this is one of his best performances. He’s utterly convincing in the role of Jack W. Burns, that sadly misbegotten cow-poke.
  3. Lonely Are the Brave is one of Steven Spielberg’s favorite movies. In fact, it would seem that he’s largely responsible for this recent DVD reissue. He sings the movie’s praises in a retrospective documentary found on the disc.

Marginalization, anachronism, these are meaty themes, and maybe I relate to stories featuring those themes because I sometimes feel I was born too late myself. But that’s fodder for another post somewhere down the trail. ‘Til then, read Appaloosa and watch Lonely Are the Brave.

Monty Python’s Meaning of Life

[80s-palooza Part 16 (unofficial entry)]

It’s amazing the degree to which comedy imprints itself onto my psyche. Monty Python’s Meaning of Life came out in 1983 and I probably haven’t seen it in more than twenty years. Nevertheless, I remembered absolutely every punch line right before it was delivered. This is, of course, problematic since so much of the laughter response relies on surprise — ergo, no surprise, no laughter. This is a phenomenon I don’t typically experience with other genres of movie because (I suppose) their rhythms are different; their intended effects are not so predicated upon amazement. As you may recall, I had a similar reaction to Ghostbusters, and so these two laughter-free experiences have caused me to concoct a little theory (shallow though it may be): Watching comedy you’re familiar with is like returning to treasured albums from your record collection. You’re never going to get the same effect you got the first time you listened to the songs, but there’s a certain transcendent comfort in going back to that place for a while. When I load up a movie like Caddyshack or Stripes, I’m doing it not so much to laugh, but for the experience of visiting those characters again and of returning to a place in my life long since gone. (Maybe that sounds a little more melancholy than I might have intended, but you get the idea.)

Anyway, as I watched Monty Python’s Meaning of Life again a couple of nights back, I couldn’t help but wonder “Am I not laughing at this because it’s not funny or because I know it by heart?”. I think the preceding paragraph more or less answers that question, but there is an important fact here which I shouldn’t dodge: “The Meaning of Life”, while clever and funny, is probably the weakest of the Python’s three features. So much of its humor is reliant upon shock (look no further than the “Mr. Creosote” episode for confirmation) that it doesn’t age as well, perhaps, as Monty Python and the Holy Grail and Monty Python’s Life of Brian. I say this with some confidence, but there’s only one way to be sure: I plan on watching both of those flicks again soon too (not to mention the episodes of the TV series as soon as I can lay my hands on them).

At any rate, all of this indicates to me that I need to find some comedy I’ve either never seen or have forgotten about if I am to get the full effect out of My Comedy Year. I have a few ideas on that subject, but suggestions would be welcome…

The 80s-Palooza Film Festival to Date:

  1. War Games
  2. The Sword and the Sorcerer
  3. Big Trouble in Little China
  4. The Beastmaster
  5. Buckaroo Banzai
  6. Dreamscape
  7. Excalibur
  8. To Live and Die in L.A.
  9. Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan
  10. Top Secret!
  11. The Thing
  12. Hoosiers
  13. Re-animator
  14. Lone Wolf McQuade
  15. Ghostbusters

Hey, Cut it Out! (6.28.09)

Over two hundred million dollars in less than 5 days for a movie which is, reportedly, utterly incomprehensible and maybe even just a touch racist.

You people realize that if you keep encouraging Michael Bay, he won’t go away, right?

Post Script 07-08-09:

Read this entry from Roger Ebert’s blog. It’s an extremely lucid defense of intelligent viewing…

“I’m a Proud Brainiac”

The Hangover


I get why The Hangover is doing so well at the box office — you pays your money;  you gets your laughs. Would that all of life’s transactions were that simple. Beyond the yucks, the movie’s script is also relatively tight for such a balls-out, “hard-R” comedy. Not only do we get characters with a smattering of depth & definition, we get a structure more complicated — with its nested flashbacks within flashbacks — than is typical for this sort of fare. It’s a good, solid time at the movies, but let me issue a warning to its makers: The Hangover is fine by itself and in no way warrants a sequel. But I’m sure Warners smells money and they won’t leave well enough alone.  We can all look forward to The Hangover 2: Even Hung Overer in about eighteen months. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Post Script:

The Hangover MVP award goes to Ken Jeong who plays “Mr. Chow”. He does one of the bravest things I’ve seen an actor do in a movie all year. Believe me, you’ll know it when you see it.