Ronald D. Moore. Among the geek set, this name sparks controversy and not a small bit of lunacy. The reason, he was whose vision successfully resurrected the venerable and until 2003, dormant 70s space opera, Battlestar Galactica. The source of the controversy was an almost complete change in it's approach. The basic characters were kept, but radical changes were made to many (Starbuck a chick). The basic scenario was the same (remnants of humanity fleeing killer robots), but they became much different from the lumbering targets of the original. A much grimmer, darker product resulted, much less family friendly, but much more layered, nuanced and thoughtful.
Anyway, the geek world exploded, but the man undeniably proved himself a skilled storyteller not afraid to ask his audience come up to his expectation, rather than slavishly come down to theirs. He showed this on Star Trek Deep Space Nine, Carnivale and the new BSG prequel, Caprica. He likes to give layers and nuance to his stories, rather than have pure black and white shoot 'em ups. He likes gray in the moral makeup of his characters. He likes ambiguous situations that are hard to size up and award long term attention paid to them. He likes the murky gray, the deep, dark black, and even the blazing white that blinds, but reveals nothing without you making the effort. The voyage inner as well as outer, this is a signature of his work.
Which had many of us wondering what he would do post Galactica. Except for STDS9, his work has tended to be critically acclaimed, yet has struggled in the ratings. So his follow-on would probably have to make a big splash early on.
Virtuality didn't. In fact, it aired as a TV movie in 2009. There have been rumors of a pickup of some sort, but in all likelyhood, for those of us who have watched it, the DVD may be all we get. So...what did we get?
We are introduced the the ship's company of the Phaeton, man's first attempt at interstellar travel. Their mission? To explore Epsilon Eridani, a voyage which will take ten years with their nuclear pulse drive system. This mission has turned into a bit of bread and circuses for a politically and environmentally beleaguered planet Earth. The crew's day to day life has become a reality TV show called Edge of Never: Life on Phaeton. In fact, ratings are tracked and one of the crew members, Billie Kasmiri, is the show's host as well as the ship's chief computer expert. Another crewmember, Dr. Roger Fallon, serves double duty as Edge of Never's producer as well as the shipboard shrink. The ship is full of a colorful set of characters, from a gay couple who work as the ship's mess staff to the paraplegic who is also the ship's drive expert. And there's the captain, Commander Frank Pike, who seems to be becoming...weird...as the "go-no go" departure point approaches (this is the point where Neptune's gravity will be used to bring them back around and on a course back for Earth, or give them the slingshot boost to set them on course for Epsilon Eridani).
The tension ramps up as a series of technical and personal problems add pressure to Commander Pike's coming decision. The ship's chief physician, Dr. Aiden Meyer, begins exhibiting early signs of Parkinson's disease. And among other technical quirks, Kasmiri is beaten and raped within the virual world the ship's computer maintains as part of the coping systems the crew has for this long duration voyage. Among the issues discussed...if the rape was not real, if it was just virtual, was she really raped? Is rape a physical experience...or an emotiona/psychological one?
As time goes on, with these extraordinary people, cream of their professions, begin to absorb the full ramifications of a long duration in these confined conditions, the building crises begin to let them know just what they've gotten into, and the walls of reality begin to crumble around them.
What is real?
I would love there to be a miracle and this show get picked up, some sort of continuation. If the pilot is any indication, Virtuality was a voyage that Ronald D Moore was set to embark on with no holds barred.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Monday, July 12, 2010
The Beast-The Land Called Afghanistan, She Forever Hungers
"When you're wounded and left on Afghanistan's plains, and the women come out to cut up what remains, jest roll to your rifle and blow out your brains and go to your Gawd like a soldier."
-Rudyard Kipling
In 1980, the United States boycotted the Olympic Games in Moscow. Reason being, the Soviet Union had sent an invasion force into Afghanistan to subjugate that country and turn it into another Soviet satellite state. They did have local sympathizers who despaired at the backward state of their nation and saw the Soviet Union as a power that could bring them into the realm of advanced nations. Naturally, NATO was alarmed at this action. The action was controversial to the rest of the world, seen as an act of aggression. But despite the Russian resolve, Afghanistan for ten years proved as difficult to tame for them as it had for many powers before them. Later on, some media observers began calling the Russian conflict in Afghanistan the "Russian Vietnam". Despite the mighty Soviet war machine and the use of experienced, skilled warriors, Afghanistan, a dirt poor, primitive nation no where near united in government, culture or pretty much anything else, was having success in stymiing the military might of Russia. Again, as it had all other mighty powers who had come before.
Afghanistan is a huge, desolate country, with it's population scattered, hidebound and traditional in their ways. A nation controls a country by invading and governing it through a puppet regime, traditionally. But what if that puppet regime, just because of local logistal and cultural considerations, simply can't? Do you just keep your army there and watch your nation's finest slowly die? Or do you cut your losses and bug out?
Well, the Russian's version of the Afghanistan ordeal had just gotten going in 1981, but already, the soldiers on the ground were cursing this land and wishing they were somewhere, anywhere else. They were earning their reputation as skilled, efficient and brutal warriors, but this was getting them nowhere. The people resented their presence and fully resisted any changing of their ways the Russians were trying to impart to them. Every foray into the Afghan hinterlands was definitely a surreal journey into Indian Country, the Heart of Darkness.
Which is what the film The Beast opens up staring into. We witness a Russian tank platoon staging a brutal, merciless attack on a remote Afghan village. They are quite thorough in their taking of lives, their machines leaving the villagers little chance to resist. Or so it appears. One tank, commanded by Daskal, insists his driver, Koverchenko, run over a village man as an object lesson to the villagers. This act, rather than breaking the villagers, proves to harden their hearts. And it begins driving a firm wedge between Daskal and Koverchenko, whose cracks would further develop as the tank flees across the Afghan countryside, separated from it's platoon and hopelessly lost, pursued by determined guerillas out for revenge.
What is The Beast of the title? Obviously, one reference is the Russians' T-62 tank, an armor plated firebreathing behemoth, a killing machine that is very difficult for the Afghans to stop. But not impossible and they know it. They call it the Beast and they are determined to slay it. The actions of the tank and of the Russians elsewhere in Afghanistan, such as poisoning their water sources and leaving traps on bodies, rather than break the Afghans, only steels them and sets their minds further to murder.
Is it the country itself? Humble appearing Afghanistan, she has laid low so many of history's mightiest powers. She eats their finest and is never sated.
Or is it the dark heart in all of us? Is it a perversion of the fighting spirit all warriors need to survive and do their job, but if steered wrong, devours all that is good and decent in a person and leaves only a soulless killer in it's place?
The Beast touches on all of this and (Stephen Baldwin not quite convincing as a Russian aside) takes us on that journey at a safe distance.
Pray for those with boots on the killing grounds.
-Rudyard Kipling
In 1980, the United States boycotted the Olympic Games in Moscow. Reason being, the Soviet Union had sent an invasion force into Afghanistan to subjugate that country and turn it into another Soviet satellite state. They did have local sympathizers who despaired at the backward state of their nation and saw the Soviet Union as a power that could bring them into the realm of advanced nations. Naturally, NATO was alarmed at this action. The action was controversial to the rest of the world, seen as an act of aggression. But despite the Russian resolve, Afghanistan for ten years proved as difficult to tame for them as it had for many powers before them. Later on, some media observers began calling the Russian conflict in Afghanistan the "Russian Vietnam". Despite the mighty Soviet war machine and the use of experienced, skilled warriors, Afghanistan, a dirt poor, primitive nation no where near united in government, culture or pretty much anything else, was having success in stymiing the military might of Russia. Again, as it had all other mighty powers who had come before.
Afghanistan is a huge, desolate country, with it's population scattered, hidebound and traditional in their ways. A nation controls a country by invading and governing it through a puppet regime, traditionally. But what if that puppet regime, just because of local logistal and cultural considerations, simply can't? Do you just keep your army there and watch your nation's finest slowly die? Or do you cut your losses and bug out?
Well, the Russian's version of the Afghanistan ordeal had just gotten going in 1981, but already, the soldiers on the ground were cursing this land and wishing they were somewhere, anywhere else. They were earning their reputation as skilled, efficient and brutal warriors, but this was getting them nowhere. The people resented their presence and fully resisted any changing of their ways the Russians were trying to impart to them. Every foray into the Afghan hinterlands was definitely a surreal journey into Indian Country, the Heart of Darkness.
Which is what the film The Beast opens up staring into. We witness a Russian tank platoon staging a brutal, merciless attack on a remote Afghan village. They are quite thorough in their taking of lives, their machines leaving the villagers little chance to resist. Or so it appears. One tank, commanded by Daskal, insists his driver, Koverchenko, run over a village man as an object lesson to the villagers. This act, rather than breaking the villagers, proves to harden their hearts. And it begins driving a firm wedge between Daskal and Koverchenko, whose cracks would further develop as the tank flees across the Afghan countryside, separated from it's platoon and hopelessly lost, pursued by determined guerillas out for revenge.
What is The Beast of the title? Obviously, one reference is the Russians' T-62 tank, an armor plated firebreathing behemoth, a killing machine that is very difficult for the Afghans to stop. But not impossible and they know it. They call it the Beast and they are determined to slay it. The actions of the tank and of the Russians elsewhere in Afghanistan, such as poisoning their water sources and leaving traps on bodies, rather than break the Afghans, only steels them and sets their minds further to murder.
Is it the country itself? Humble appearing Afghanistan, she has laid low so many of history's mightiest powers. She eats their finest and is never sated.
Or is it the dark heart in all of us? Is it a perversion of the fighting spirit all warriors need to survive and do their job, but if steered wrong, devours all that is good and decent in a person and leaves only a soulless killer in it's place?
The Beast touches on all of this and (Stephen Baldwin not quite convincing as a Russian aside) takes us on that journey at a safe distance.
Pray for those with boots on the killing grounds.
The Maim Event-Rasslin Meets Raunch And Raw Meat
On another social networking site that shall remain nameless, I stumbled across an interesting find. A woman named Monique "Gata" Dupree. And what can I say, her obvious credentials caught my eye (dark skin, HUGE breasts, lovely looks, and athletic ability). She has her lovely digits in a wide range of media pies, but the one I was interested in the most is her forays into
B-movieland.
The world of indie B-trash films is an interesting one and can be quite touch and go, quality-wise. There are two ways you can guarantee yourself (almost guarantee) you will find quality productions. First, find names in the industry whose work you enjoy. Second, find reviews detailing works you are interested in, though this can be more problematic, as the reviewer in question may not "get" the material.
What does all this have to do with Ms. Dupree? Why, this. I'm a very intuitive person and tend to trust my gut a lot. I get vibes and they often steer me in good directions. By now you probably have looked up pictures of Ms. Dupree and are now saying it's not my "intuition" leading me. And you would be wrong. Ms. Dupree's talents are pronounced and formidable, but that's not what got me to buy a copy of The Maim Event. There are lots of pretty, busty women out there, but not all of them are worth spending on to watch flounce, bounce and bound across the silver screen. They gots ta bring more sumpin' sumpin' to the revels to be worthy of viewing, especially for more than, say, five, ten minutes.
I began reading about Ms. Dupree and the projects she was involved in and checked out some titles. When I saw The Maim Event, which is basically an ultra low budget slasher flick based around small town rasslin', I saw MUCH potential in the proceedings.
It goes something like this. Charlie is a dreamer and pictures himself as the next big promoter in wrestling. The dominating local promotion is just not getting it done in his view, so he sets about to set up his own promotion. Thing is, the other guy doesn't care for the competition and sets his stable of "wrestlers" on Charlie to try to sabotage his efforts, fustrate his moves and engage in series of scenes intended for over the top mayhem and excuses to get buxom women undressed.
This movie is trash, but it is trash done RIGHT. The acting is decent, lots of the jokes, both high and low find their mark. Lots of nudity and it is shameless. And small town wrestling promotions, being a guy from the south where this is fairly common, are an easy mine for comedy gold. I mean, we are talking about non-athletes with the lamest of gimmicks (and a few who are actually pretty good), but they've often got heart and a yen for the spotlight. So that and a beer and it can be a decent night's entertainment.
As this film is. The Maim Event. You've got all that and Monique "Gata" Dupree. Thank you, Ms. Dupree. This will be the first night of many, you and I.
B-movieland.
The world of indie B-trash films is an interesting one and can be quite touch and go, quality-wise. There are two ways you can guarantee yourself (almost guarantee) you will find quality productions. First, find names in the industry whose work you enjoy. Second, find reviews detailing works you are interested in, though this can be more problematic, as the reviewer in question may not "get" the material.
What does all this have to do with Ms. Dupree? Why, this. I'm a very intuitive person and tend to trust my gut a lot. I get vibes and they often steer me in good directions. By now you probably have looked up pictures of Ms. Dupree and are now saying it's not my "intuition" leading me. And you would be wrong. Ms. Dupree's talents are pronounced and formidable, but that's not what got me to buy a copy of The Maim Event. There are lots of pretty, busty women out there, but not all of them are worth spending on to watch flounce, bounce and bound across the silver screen. They gots ta bring more sumpin' sumpin' to the revels to be worthy of viewing, especially for more than, say, five, ten minutes.
I began reading about Ms. Dupree and the projects she was involved in and checked out some titles. When I saw The Maim Event, which is basically an ultra low budget slasher flick based around small town rasslin', I saw MUCH potential in the proceedings.
It goes something like this. Charlie is a dreamer and pictures himself as the next big promoter in wrestling. The dominating local promotion is just not getting it done in his view, so he sets about to set up his own promotion. Thing is, the other guy doesn't care for the competition and sets his stable of "wrestlers" on Charlie to try to sabotage his efforts, fustrate his moves and engage in series of scenes intended for over the top mayhem and excuses to get buxom women undressed.
This movie is trash, but it is trash done RIGHT. The acting is decent, lots of the jokes, both high and low find their mark. Lots of nudity and it is shameless. And small town wrestling promotions, being a guy from the south where this is fairly common, are an easy mine for comedy gold. I mean, we are talking about non-athletes with the lamest of gimmicks (and a few who are actually pretty good), but they've often got heart and a yen for the spotlight. So that and a beer and it can be a decent night's entertainment.
As this film is. The Maim Event. You've got all that and Monique "Gata" Dupree. Thank you, Ms. Dupree. This will be the first night of many, you and I.
Machine Girl-Not Everyone Can Be Sam Raimi
It just goes to show that the my tastes and that of certain more famous internet movie bloggers are not exactly the same. This is just as well, expected, and the normal order of things. However, to be so at odds with the perception of a particular movie (just don't see what he sees in her)...must meditate upon this. I mean, I like trashy cinema (though prefer sexy over violent, if given my druthers), but it has to have a certain vibe, a certain cool, a savour faire, nes pas? Above all, it has to be clear it accepts what it is and is having fun with it.
Not fun trash cinema is...well...not fun.
Which brings us to our subject. Machine Girl. This one has the raw material for a Stoney fav. Cute girls. Mayhem. Cool weapons. Sheer over the top badassery. And it fails miserably. Let us examine why. Ami is the heroine, a tough, athletic but still normal girl. Her brother is murdered by school bullies who apparently are associated with a local organized crime syndicate. She goes looking for revenge. More murders result in her losing an arm, gaining a mini-gun prosthetic and an angry widow sidekick. They both go look to take down the big boss after some leveling up. All this is punctuated by the most unrealistic, over the top and GORY, gory, gory violence. We are talking just about every death accompanied by arterial spray as if it came from a fire hose.
Much of this resembles some of the earlier work of Sam Raimi, most notably the Evil Dead series. Or Peter Jackson's early zombie movies. Just picture hyperkinetic camera work, a raided butcher shop for the SFX and the most acrobatic, yet cheap stunt work you've ever seen.
Why does it not work? Because it takes itself so damn SERIOUSLY. The characters seem to operate in one of two modes. They are either earnest, or deadly serious. No embracing the sheer mania of what's going on, Viagra couldn't make this thing play straighter in actor execution.
The ONE character who plays this for the camp it is is the alpha female in the ninja clan. Even to the point where her bountiful bosom is sheathed in a bladed bra which is used to mutilate the other characters, including the heroin's co-located girl parts (I cringed, big time). But that and the fact that the bra never comes off to reveal the one really decent rack in the whole film? Even at the end when it clearly looks like it's about to happen?
All that blood and not one, NOT ONE pair of boobs?
I felt fairly dirty coming from this movie.
I don't feel that way about most porn I've seen.
Machine Girl. Send this one back to the manufacturer, fails to meet consumer expectations.
Not fun trash cinema is...well...not fun.
Which brings us to our subject. Machine Girl. This one has the raw material for a Stoney fav. Cute girls. Mayhem. Cool weapons. Sheer over the top badassery. And it fails miserably. Let us examine why. Ami is the heroine, a tough, athletic but still normal girl. Her brother is murdered by school bullies who apparently are associated with a local organized crime syndicate. She goes looking for revenge. More murders result in her losing an arm, gaining a mini-gun prosthetic and an angry widow sidekick. They both go look to take down the big boss after some leveling up. All this is punctuated by the most unrealistic, over the top and GORY, gory, gory violence. We are talking just about every death accompanied by arterial spray as if it came from a fire hose.
Much of this resembles some of the earlier work of Sam Raimi, most notably the Evil Dead series. Or Peter Jackson's early zombie movies. Just picture hyperkinetic camera work, a raided butcher shop for the SFX and the most acrobatic, yet cheap stunt work you've ever seen.
Why does it not work? Because it takes itself so damn SERIOUSLY. The characters seem to operate in one of two modes. They are either earnest, or deadly serious. No embracing the sheer mania of what's going on, Viagra couldn't make this thing play straighter in actor execution.
The ONE character who plays this for the camp it is is the alpha female in the ninja clan. Even to the point where her bountiful bosom is sheathed in a bladed bra which is used to mutilate the other characters, including the heroin's co-located girl parts (I cringed, big time). But that and the fact that the bra never comes off to reveal the one really decent rack in the whole film? Even at the end when it clearly looks like it's about to happen?
All that blood and not one, NOT ONE pair of boobs?
I felt fairly dirty coming from this movie.
I don't feel that way about most porn I've seen.
Machine Girl. Send this one back to the manufacturer, fails to meet consumer expectations.
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Cthulhu-Iagh, etc...
The Cthulhu Mythos, ever heard of them? They are the invention of a writer named Howard Phillips Lovecraft, who created his unique horror in the early twentieth century. Though he is long gone, his writings have continued to garner fans among laymen and professional horror writers alike. The Mythos have inspired many to try to translate his creations to other mediums as well, including games, music and film. It's interesting to ask the question why Lovecraft's writings are so engaging, why his concepts seem to inspire such devotion. He called his approach "cosmic horror", that is, the universe is utterly alien and inhuman, and the entities that rule the cosmos are equally so. Mankind in this venue is seen as a brief candlelight, beautiful, but fragile and ultimately short lived, doomed to burn out or fade away, or to be snuffed by something that may not even be aware that it did it. If it is aware, it does not care. Have a nice life!
Why would such a bleak scenario appeal? The protagonists in Lovecraft's tales, mostly academics, but others as well, are those who have stumbled across the truths of the universe. Rather than recoiling in terror, their academic curiosty and desire to know is engaged. And though they come to know the scale and scope of what's out there, or at least get a good enough idea of it to know just how big it may be, they stand against it, nonetheless. They are doomed most likely to ugly death or insanity, or even worse, yet they forge on, and the masses know not of this secret crusade. For their own good, they cannot know.
Hopeless heroism. Can't help but grab the romantic's heart, y'know?
Anyway, Cthulhu is an adaptation of Lovecraft's "A Shadow Over Innsmouth", a story which dealt with a New England coastal fishing village being slowly taken over by dark forces. Cthulhu starts out showing news reports and glimpses of a world in desperate straights. Instability reigns, politically, economically, environmentally, things are not going well at all on planet Earth, and no one is really sure why. Russel heads home to attend the funeral and estate affairs of his mother. He's a department head at a university, successful in his academic calling. He also has embraced his orientation as a gay man. He doesn't make a big deal about it, but it is what it is. But he knows that it will be something of a scandal in his conservative home town, especially with his father, who is a big wig in the local church.
Sure enough, when Russel gets home, the strangeness starts almost immediately, with lots of people around him just acting...weird. His father's church has changed it's name, calling itself the "Esoteric Order of Dagon". At dinner one evening, the conversation gets very awkward and intense as his father goes on a rant about his lifestyle and his need to produce a next generation. He is very blunt about the fact that Russel's sister and brother-in-law aren't getting it done.
Weird.
He also runs into a local girl played very well by Tori Spelling (surprisingly so) who comes onto him with both barrels, never mind his well known inclination. Another local girl gives him shrill warnings about the locals and how they are "watching". Also, a mysterious piece of pottery falls into his posession. For the price of some liquor, a local bum gives him background on the artifact, saying it is a fetish associated with the worship of Dagon. He then talks about some sailors he knew who discovered a mysterious city risen out of the ocean many years ago. He is one of the few who survived that doomed expedition, or so he claims. Liar or unfortunate survivor, he comes across a bit of a nut. Is he making all this up...or is something out there in the ocean making it's presence felt?
But the weirdest, or creepiest for me, as the evidence begins piling up, was when Russel runs into a strange kid in an apartment complex, sitting there watching a TV screen filled with static. Russel asks him what he's doing. The kid says he's waiting. Russel says, "Waiting for what?" The camera closes in the kid's face as he utter's one word.
"Cthulhu."
In sunken Ryleh dead Cthulhu lies dreaming. He awaits the day when the stars are right.
Strangeness is afoot in Rivermouth. Bizarre behavior. Bizarre creatures. And the Esoteric Order of Dagon expects great things of Russel, of which he has no idea, except for that "heir" thing, which is, of course...madness.
Right?
The world holds it's breath in the expectation of something coming...
Cthulhu.
HP Lovecraft's works are hard to adapt, but this one is a very good attempt.
Why would such a bleak scenario appeal? The protagonists in Lovecraft's tales, mostly academics, but others as well, are those who have stumbled across the truths of the universe. Rather than recoiling in terror, their academic curiosty and desire to know is engaged. And though they come to know the scale and scope of what's out there, or at least get a good enough idea of it to know just how big it may be, they stand against it, nonetheless. They are doomed most likely to ugly death or insanity, or even worse, yet they forge on, and the masses know not of this secret crusade. For their own good, they cannot know.
Hopeless heroism. Can't help but grab the romantic's heart, y'know?
Anyway, Cthulhu is an adaptation of Lovecraft's "A Shadow Over Innsmouth", a story which dealt with a New England coastal fishing village being slowly taken over by dark forces. Cthulhu starts out showing news reports and glimpses of a world in desperate straights. Instability reigns, politically, economically, environmentally, things are not going well at all on planet Earth, and no one is really sure why. Russel heads home to attend the funeral and estate affairs of his mother. He's a department head at a university, successful in his academic calling. He also has embraced his orientation as a gay man. He doesn't make a big deal about it, but it is what it is. But he knows that it will be something of a scandal in his conservative home town, especially with his father, who is a big wig in the local church.
Sure enough, when Russel gets home, the strangeness starts almost immediately, with lots of people around him just acting...weird. His father's church has changed it's name, calling itself the "Esoteric Order of Dagon". At dinner one evening, the conversation gets very awkward and intense as his father goes on a rant about his lifestyle and his need to produce a next generation. He is very blunt about the fact that Russel's sister and brother-in-law aren't getting it done.
Weird.
He also runs into a local girl played very well by Tori Spelling (surprisingly so) who comes onto him with both barrels, never mind his well known inclination. Another local girl gives him shrill warnings about the locals and how they are "watching". Also, a mysterious piece of pottery falls into his posession. For the price of some liquor, a local bum gives him background on the artifact, saying it is a fetish associated with the worship of Dagon. He then talks about some sailors he knew who discovered a mysterious city risen out of the ocean many years ago. He is one of the few who survived that doomed expedition, or so he claims. Liar or unfortunate survivor, he comes across a bit of a nut. Is he making all this up...or is something out there in the ocean making it's presence felt?
But the weirdest, or creepiest for me, as the evidence begins piling up, was when Russel runs into a strange kid in an apartment complex, sitting there watching a TV screen filled with static. Russel asks him what he's doing. The kid says he's waiting. Russel says, "Waiting for what?" The camera closes in the kid's face as he utter's one word.
"Cthulhu."
In sunken Ryleh dead Cthulhu lies dreaming. He awaits the day when the stars are right.
Strangeness is afoot in Rivermouth. Bizarre behavior. Bizarre creatures. And the Esoteric Order of Dagon expects great things of Russel, of which he has no idea, except for that "heir" thing, which is, of course...madness.
Right?
The world holds it's breath in the expectation of something coming...
Cthulhu.
HP Lovecraft's works are hard to adapt, but this one is a very good attempt.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Let The Right One In...Sometimes Good Advice...
You know what? One would almost think that Buffy The Vampire Slayer and Angel had never been around. Or True Blood. Why is the biggest thing in vampire celluloid nowadays a vapid, empty emo fest aimed at tweens (it's name shall not be spoke here. I'd call it Suck, but that's the name of a coming and no doubt vastly superior vampire movie). But we all know which one I'm talking about, so we will speak of it no longer. Moving on...
Ok, last review I spent pretty much beeotch slappin' a foreign film, which I had to put in a disclaimer that I don't hate foreign films. Here is the proof.
See Let The Right One In, a Swedish vampire movie. The DVD does offer a dubbed to English soundtrack, or you can watch it in Swedish, with or without subtitles. There is an American remake coming out, which may or may not suck. But if you want your bloodsucking guaranteed not to suck, see the original. Let me elucidate, por favor.
Meet Oskar. He's a young lad, kinda scrawny, and has been picked out to be the "piggy" for a gang of local toughs. You don't see him with friends much, either, so you begin to get the idea that this lad spends lots of time alone. So when he is sitting alone in his apartment complex's playground by himself, at night, snow all around, and a pale girl with dark hair starts chatting him up, his first reaction is not to tell her to "get lost, freak". Even when she says they probably can't be friends. Ok. Nice to meet you, too. Back to my Rubik's Cube....clickety clack.
This goes on like this for awhile. In the day, Oskar getting pummeled by his middle school goon squad. At night, pale chick (who we know as Eli later) becomes more open in her chatting, though still mysterious. And while their friendship develops, we see news reports starting to come in about mysterious murders happening in town, mostly of the exsanguination variety. And a little later, we catch scenes of Eli without Oskar and her taking care of her particular dietary needs. Eli, a pale girl with dark hair, easily overpowering grown men three, even four times her size. Oh, and she tends to avoid sunlight, must be invited into living spaces before she can safely enter, and other interesting traits like that.
She also says she's twelve. And has been twelve for a very long time. To call her an odd girl at this point would be to undersell.
Anyway, she turns into Oskar's Mr. Myagi, having watched a couple of encounters with his tormentors. She advises him to hit back with authority. And if he gets in over his head, she promises to back him up.
My favorite vampire stories tend to be the ones that explore the idea of the vampire as a monster with still some humanity. Do they seek to excise their humanity and full embrace the predator? Or do they struggle to hold onto their soul and somehow accomodate their inhuman state of being along with it? How do they accomplish this?
Eli obviously avoided most of humanity, but she desperately needed a friend, and found a fellow soul who felt isolated from humanity, and willing to accept her for what she was, even though she knew that her nature would force her to leave at some point.
IMO, the most compelling monsters are ones that we can recognize something human in them. They are at the same time the most interesting, yet most horrifying. Because it makes you wonder, do such possibilities lurk in all of us? And the struggle itself, to hold onto what is good, decent, to try to connect with others in a meaningful way around you is one we all can relate to.
And for many, such is hard enough. Imagine having the need for companionship, for love...and seeing most of the objects of your affections as potential Happy Meals.
From Sweden. Let The Right One In.
A very tasty vampire movie.
Ok, last review I spent pretty much beeotch slappin' a foreign film, which I had to put in a disclaimer that I don't hate foreign films. Here is the proof.
See Let The Right One In, a Swedish vampire movie. The DVD does offer a dubbed to English soundtrack, or you can watch it in Swedish, with or without subtitles. There is an American remake coming out, which may or may not suck. But if you want your bloodsucking guaranteed not to suck, see the original. Let me elucidate, por favor.
Meet Oskar. He's a young lad, kinda scrawny, and has been picked out to be the "piggy" for a gang of local toughs. You don't see him with friends much, either, so you begin to get the idea that this lad spends lots of time alone. So when he is sitting alone in his apartment complex's playground by himself, at night, snow all around, and a pale girl with dark hair starts chatting him up, his first reaction is not to tell her to "get lost, freak". Even when she says they probably can't be friends. Ok. Nice to meet you, too. Back to my Rubik's Cube....clickety clack.
This goes on like this for awhile. In the day, Oskar getting pummeled by his middle school goon squad. At night, pale chick (who we know as Eli later) becomes more open in her chatting, though still mysterious. And while their friendship develops, we see news reports starting to come in about mysterious murders happening in town, mostly of the exsanguination variety. And a little later, we catch scenes of Eli without Oskar and her taking care of her particular dietary needs. Eli, a pale girl with dark hair, easily overpowering grown men three, even four times her size. Oh, and she tends to avoid sunlight, must be invited into living spaces before she can safely enter, and other interesting traits like that.
She also says she's twelve. And has been twelve for a very long time. To call her an odd girl at this point would be to undersell.
Anyway, she turns into Oskar's Mr. Myagi, having watched a couple of encounters with his tormentors. She advises him to hit back with authority. And if he gets in over his head, she promises to back him up.
My favorite vampire stories tend to be the ones that explore the idea of the vampire as a monster with still some humanity. Do they seek to excise their humanity and full embrace the predator? Or do they struggle to hold onto their soul and somehow accomodate their inhuman state of being along with it? How do they accomplish this?
Eli obviously avoided most of humanity, but she desperately needed a friend, and found a fellow soul who felt isolated from humanity, and willing to accept her for what she was, even though she knew that her nature would force her to leave at some point.
IMO, the most compelling monsters are ones that we can recognize something human in them. They are at the same time the most interesting, yet most horrifying. Because it makes you wonder, do such possibilities lurk in all of us? And the struggle itself, to hold onto what is good, decent, to try to connect with others in a meaningful way around you is one we all can relate to.
And for many, such is hard enough. Imagine having the need for companionship, for love...and seeing most of the objects of your affections as potential Happy Meals.
From Sweden. Let The Right One In.
A very tasty vampire movie.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Songs From The Second Floor, A Euro Art-Set Lullaby
This is one of the most difficult reviews I've ever had to write. Really. The worst sort of movie review for me is one where I feel totally out of my realm. Not that the film surpasseth understanding for me, oh, no sir/ma'am. I'm a very smart lad and you will not be able to buck me from the mental mount. It's being matched with material that I fear that I'm not equipped to review on an even keel. For example, I generally don't write reviews for romance movies. Not that I don't appreciate romance, I do, very much. You won't find a more romantic fellow than me. But romance stories strike me as making romance and that kind of love the point of being for the characters involved, when in real life, that is not why human beings live. Romance and love is something we all want, but if that is what you base your life around, your life will be an unstable emotional rollercoaster, subject to the dizzying highs and dismal lows that such a mindset will inevitably bring. I love a well written story with romance as an element, but the reason for it being? William Shakespear wrote one bad play, in my awesome opinion, Romeo and Juliet. Awful. I don't buy it for a second. Romeo is a sap, Juliet is a spoiled tart, the only character with character is Mercutio. He should have gone to star in the action adventure sequel, having not died, but the Bard had to have his Epic Fail. Ok. Everyone has one.
Another genre I just don't get is the arty Euro movie. Now, I have several foreign films in my DVD library. One of the most chilling and inventive zombie films of the last decade was They Came Back. Thing is, you have to deal with subtitles or speak French to take in this film. I have no problem doing that for a good movie. Same with the ghost story House Of Voices. One film I'm very much looking forward to is what is regarded as one of the best vampire movies to come along in a long time (definitely not Twilight), the Swedish movie Let The Right One In. There is much to recommend the Eurocentric art set films, but I'm afraid I must report that Songs From The Second Floor fails to cut the mustard.
The DVD cover blurbs compare the film to work by Romero, Monty Python and Ingmar Bergman. Now, I must admit, I'm not up on the ouvre of Bergman, but I do get Romero and Python. And I must double take at such claims. Monty Python films are filled with sharp, witty dialogue, sarcastic, silly barbs at sacred cows and power that be. Romero's films are social satires and commentaries masking as horror movies. They all work because among all their other virtues, they emotionally engage the viewer. The viewer has a sense of emotional stakes. What they have to say MATTERS to the filmmakers, obviously, and they clearly want it to matter to the viewer. Those films succeed because the filmmakers succeed in their goal.
Now, Songs From The Second Floor begins with a series of vignettes, showing people living their lives and doing or being subjected to absurd scenarios. Some were cringe inducing, such as the bad stage magician almost REALLY sawing someone in half, but others just got a mild wtf, such as continually showing this guy who almost got sawed in half in pain, going about things...in pain. Ok.
There is the guy automated out of his job. There is the son of the man who almost sawed that dude in half quoting philosophical lines to his brother, a poet who has gone crazy. Got it so far? Also, there apparently is an unending traffic jam extended throughout the city. Oh, and a large group of people walking around in the back ground engaging in self flaggelation.
Oh, and you have some kind of board meeting to discuss financial news and try to suss out why people are acting like this. Kind of walking around aimlessly.
Well, let me tell you, faithful movie goer. Between the monotone dialogue, the ham fisted shots at religion and the general pointlessness of the affair, it would seem they are trying to make a statement about the absurdity of life and how it all is a futile exercise.
Now, I don't agree with that view, but I don't have to agree with a film to enjoy it or think it worthwhile. But you have to bring something besides a flat, an oh so flat statement. You have to engage me, help me see your view, rather than merely lay it out as "obvious".
Many of your Euro art movies, IMO, do just that. And they, many of them, seem to perpetuate this idea about the absurdity of existence.
I got that. You might even make a compelling case for it. But you have to make me care about it.
In this, and in being a worthwhile movie watching experience in general, I'm afraid Songs From The Second Floor gets put into the DVD basement.
2 Geeks out of ten. And that's being kind.
Another genre I just don't get is the arty Euro movie. Now, I have several foreign films in my DVD library. One of the most chilling and inventive zombie films of the last decade was They Came Back. Thing is, you have to deal with subtitles or speak French to take in this film. I have no problem doing that for a good movie. Same with the ghost story House Of Voices. One film I'm very much looking forward to is what is regarded as one of the best vampire movies to come along in a long time (definitely not Twilight), the Swedish movie Let The Right One In. There is much to recommend the Eurocentric art set films, but I'm afraid I must report that Songs From The Second Floor fails to cut the mustard.
The DVD cover blurbs compare the film to work by Romero, Monty Python and Ingmar Bergman. Now, I must admit, I'm not up on the ouvre of Bergman, but I do get Romero and Python. And I must double take at such claims. Monty Python films are filled with sharp, witty dialogue, sarcastic, silly barbs at sacred cows and power that be. Romero's films are social satires and commentaries masking as horror movies. They all work because among all their other virtues, they emotionally engage the viewer. The viewer has a sense of emotional stakes. What they have to say MATTERS to the filmmakers, obviously, and they clearly want it to matter to the viewer. Those films succeed because the filmmakers succeed in their goal.
Now, Songs From The Second Floor begins with a series of vignettes, showing people living their lives and doing or being subjected to absurd scenarios. Some were cringe inducing, such as the bad stage magician almost REALLY sawing someone in half, but others just got a mild wtf, such as continually showing this guy who almost got sawed in half in pain, going about things...in pain. Ok.
There is the guy automated out of his job. There is the son of the man who almost sawed that dude in half quoting philosophical lines to his brother, a poet who has gone crazy. Got it so far? Also, there apparently is an unending traffic jam extended throughout the city. Oh, and a large group of people walking around in the back ground engaging in self flaggelation.
Oh, and you have some kind of board meeting to discuss financial news and try to suss out why people are acting like this. Kind of walking around aimlessly.
Well, let me tell you, faithful movie goer. Between the monotone dialogue, the ham fisted shots at religion and the general pointlessness of the affair, it would seem they are trying to make a statement about the absurdity of life and how it all is a futile exercise.
Now, I don't agree with that view, but I don't have to agree with a film to enjoy it or think it worthwhile. But you have to bring something besides a flat, an oh so flat statement. You have to engage me, help me see your view, rather than merely lay it out as "obvious".
Many of your Euro art movies, IMO, do just that. And they, many of them, seem to perpetuate this idea about the absurdity of existence.
I got that. You might even make a compelling case for it. But you have to make me care about it.
In this, and in being a worthwhile movie watching experience in general, I'm afraid Songs From The Second Floor gets put into the DVD basement.
2 Geeks out of ten. And that's being kind.
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