fine whine

I can but wonder why Disney considers 1971's Bedknobs and broomsticks to be a suitable film for children. Having watched it today for the first time since I was a child, I can't say that I appreciate it more now than I did years ago. Based on what I see now, I'm not sure I should have even seen it as a child. Set against a backdrop of World War II, the story weaves in some pretty heavy themes:

• child abandonment and the death of a parent (the three children are orphans of a sort)
• wanton and unchecked pollution (Miss Price*'s motorcycle spits out a cloud of foul yellow smoke)
• witchcraft (well, that one's obvious, but the scene where the witch joins the children in a post-prandial prayer stands out)
• dishonest clergy (the priest seems to have plans to somehow acquire Miss Price's land and estate, and seems to be faking illness to avoid military service)
• blackmail (the children know Miss Price is a witch and hold it over her for better food and a bed knob)
• obvious drug trip overtones (the psychedelic flying bed sequences)
• confidence games and scams (the Professor sings a song about selling 'cures' that don't work and charms that do nothing, though he sells only one broken trinket to the smallest child)
• wasting food (the Professor cracks eggs and pours milk on the head of one of the bystanders)
• mail fraud (the Professor didn't expect his correspondence course spells to actually work)
• illegal squatting and disobeying government orders (the professor has appropriated a nice mansion vacated by people more squeamish about the unexploded bomb in the front yard)
• taking children to pawn shops (Portabello Road, obviously the Disney backlot, seems to be where people sell things when they're down on their luck, but still ready to dance away their sorrows)
• art forgery and other misrepresentation of goods (Portabello Road)
• vandalism (again, Portabello Road, wherein the youngest child defaces a bust with a mustache, and the older boy breaks a couch)
• racial segregation (the tedious and interminable Portabello Road dance sequence is segmented many a time, but never integrated. Turbans and steel drums don't mix)
• threatening children with violence (a knife is held menacingly against one of them)
• children swearing (well, if "bloody" counts)
• a general disregard for the reality of physics and other science (nevermind witchcraft and a flying bed or breathing and dancing underwater, but talking animals? Give me a break)
• a disregard for proper grammar and speech (besides the children, the animals speak very poorly and do not set a good example for an impressionable audience)
• cheating and other poor sportsmanship (the animals' soccer game is brutal, particularly on the referee)
• theft (the professor steals the king's medallion, and the smallest boy stole a book from the Professor's squat)
• encouraging cohabitation (the shopkeeper is happy to think that the professor and Miss Price are shacking up without being married)
• butt-kicking (the witchcraft-animated pair of shoes kicks the witch in the rear end)
• overt sexual innuendo (one long shot has the Professor giving a large sausage to a pussy-cat, hmmm)
• cruelty to animals (he steps on its tail)
• general war-is-hell kind of stuff (shooting, fisticuffs, and whatnot, albeit with spectral solders on one side and scared Germans on the other)

All that, and it was rated 'G'. Go figure.

* 'Eglantine Price' seemed such an odd name that I was forced to run some anagrams on it. The most promising ones I found, well, weren't that promising.

• I nip a neglecter
• Certain peeling
• I pin a recent leg
• Inelegance trip
• Pelican integer
• Near nice piglet

Of course, "Eglantine" is merely an anagram of "Inelegant", but is it really that simple?

If I instead use 'Miss Eglantine Price' I also get:

• Mantlepieces rising
• Single priest cinema
• Grim penis latencies
• Replaces meningitis
• Angelic Mister Penis
• Genitalic primeness

Genitalic primeness, indeed. To think, this movie is for kids!

I forgot to mention one thing about Darkness yesterday; it does have one genuinely creepy shot. Late in the movie, amid a near-montage of running-though-hallways-with-bleeding-walls bits there's a shot of some swings in the kitchen. They do not belong there, as we were shown them at least five other times and we know fairly certain that they are, in fact, out in the backyard. So it's a bit creepy to see them in the kitchen. Well, maybe you just need to see it*.

But that was yesterday. Today I watched another so-called thriller, and even though it wasn't really a better film, I enjoyed it much more. It was Cube 2: Hypercube, the sequel to the underrated low-budget Cube, which I had rather enjoyed when I watched it a couple years ago. Neither movie, despite being described as 'scary', is scary or frightening, and this second one is considerably less gory or creepy than its predecessor.

The major difference between the two could well be the entire production team, director included, that did not return for the second film. That's one way to avoid a sophomore slump, I suppose.

Fresh cast and crew aside, Hypercube is nevertheless still very much a sequel. One of the characters is aware of (if not responsible for) the first cube thing (as seen in the first movie) and provides what little transition is given to explain the increased complexity and strangeness of this second cube thing. He, of course, is dispatched before he can explain anything useful to the rest of the cast. The special effect that does him in is discussed at length in the DVD extras, but I must admit that even after having heard their intentions and re-watched the scene, the filmmakers' intentions and final results are not so obviously well translated as they may think. This is largely irrelevant, as so much of what is happening is not meant to be explained but just survived, so it doesn't really matter or detract from the proceedings. After all, this isn't supposed to be completely explained, since it isn't really supposed to be explainable even inside the movie, though the characters attempt to do just that more than once. To admit inside the movie that the reality of what is happening isn't really possible is either very bold or very cheesy, and I can't decide which.

It's just not something that I want to think about for very long. I enjoyed watching the movie while I was watching it, and wasn't really thinking about the plot holes and sheer stupidity here and there. Suspension of disbelief, I guess they call it.

Back to the differences between this one and the first Cube, though. This one's a lot brighter, as the walls look to be made almost out of light. This time around the CGI budget was greatly increased, and even for the shots that aren't hyperkinetic killer razor cube-things the computer effects are well-integrated into the film so as to not be noticeable. It wasn't until I listened to the commentary that I realized a number of shots could not have been done optically and hadn't thought much of it since they weren't big effects shots. Technically, then, well done.

It gets cheesy at times, and dull at others (never have I seen a more boring zero-gravity love scene) but overall Hypercube is an enjoyable enough movie for people who aren't too interested in thinking about realistic physics for an hour and a half or so. Hardcore fans of the first movie seem to dislike this one, as I've seen on message boards and elsewhere, but for a casual fan like me, it's likable enough.

* By saying "...you just need to see it," I am not actually recommending that you watch this Darkness, even for that one scene. I cannot be held responsible for any harm caused as a result of persons watching said movie.

Today I watched Darkness, directed by Spain's Jaume Balagueró. I was no more impressed than I was scared, and the movie was about as scary as petting our cat*. Apparently well regarded as thrilling or original, I found the movie to be derivative, slow, and dull. Had it not been made a year or two before Ju-on: the Grudge or its remake (Sam Raimi's The Grudge) I would have assumed that its evil house had been lifted from the Japanese film. Alas, it predates them, but follows who knows how many iterations of The Amityville horror and its ilk, and from what little I've seen, it doesn't add much to the haunted house genre.

It doesn't add much to anything, nearest I can tell. Harsh lighting and 'dramatic shadows' I've seen before, and done better. Excessively shaky cameras and lightning-fast editing are nothing new, and anymore they just distract me. Ghostly children appearing and disappearing I've seen before, and perhaps better. Thunder and lightning used to elevate tension I've seen before, and it rarely works. Likewise walls that bleed. A father driven to madness, banging on doors among other insanity, I've seen before, and one movie about that is pretty much enough. Ancient arcane rituals in otherwise ordinary situations has been a mainstay of many a movie or X-files episode, and frankly they never did much for me either. Ostensibly normal people seeking to manifest the ultimate evil just isn't one of my favorite plots, I guess. Loud, jarring scratchy noises and blurry shapes darting across the foreground, out of focus aren't anything new either, though I cannot recall where I've seen that before. If I were to list all of the movies I saw in this one (from The Shining to The Sixth Sense to The Grudge to The Others and so many others, too many to list) I'd give up long before I was done, and I'd probably just find some of those movies that did well what Darkness tried to crib or cobble together.

I think it's becoming obvious that perhaps horror thrillers just aren't my thing. I recognize that dread and foreboding point the new direction the genre seems to be taking, where irony and postmodernism had until recently been the only way to go. Either approach needs to be crafted well to result in something I'll enjoy, and for all the work that obviously went into Darkness, it sure is light on originality.

* Which served as a welcome distraction from much of the movie, I must admit.

Based on an offhand recommendation from somebody at work, tonight as I washed the dishes I watched Harold and Kumar go to White Castle. I hadn't heard much about the movie before, and frankly never added it to my list because it sounded mindless, and was written and directed by the 'auteur' behind Dude, where's my car, which I have not yet seen. That movie has been described to me as equally hilarious and stupid, and, well, I just haven't gotten around to checking it out yet.

On the Harold and Kumar DVD is included the trailer for Festival express, the 33 years overdue documentary about the 1970 Canada train that shuttled Janis Joplin, the Grateful Dead, Buddy Guy, The Band, the Flying burrito brothers, and others between three massive concerts and the jam sessions and parties and liquor store raids in between. I mention this because part of the trailer is scored with the Dead's "Casey Jones" (a song obviously inspired by the trip), which I had inexplicably running through my head for a number of hours two days prior. Ooooh, spooky.

While we're on the topic of music, however, I must give credit to Harold and Kumar for finally letting me hear the lyrics of "Let's get retarded" by the Black-eyed peas*. You could well recognize this song, as it is largely the title phrase repeated over some catchy beats over and over again. I'd heard it every week at work during our weekly lobby meetings to announce how well the business was doing, and I'd taken the lyrics to say "Let's get things started" or something similar. Never once had I thought that our company's co-presidents would use a song about getting wasted as a lead-in for a meeting.

Speaking then of bureaucracy (well, I guess I was), I also watched The Terminal, starring Tom Hanks and Stanley Tucci. Stanley's one of those actors whose name is immediately recognizable even if his face or his films are not. At least, he was to me. For many a year I've had Joe Gould's secret on my list of films to watch, and I think it was probably because Ian Holm was in it. Oddly enough I happened to see it at the library today, as I often have, since it doesn't seem to get checked out very much. Every time I see it I consider watching it, but the few times I glance at the covers I put it back, not wanting to see a period piece or a sappy drama. Well it turns out that Stanley stars in it and directs it. Go figure. I'll probably watch it soon, as Stanley does a pretty good job in Terminal. Also on my list is 1996's Big night, his directorial debut, and I'm pretty sure I'd added that because Tony Shaloub is in it.

That's what I like about having such a long list (over four hundred films long), the fact that I often forget why a certain one is on it and get the thrill of figuring it out while watching. Of course not every movie I watch is on my list before I see it; such was the case with The last shot, in which, coincidentally, Tony Shaloub appears.

His scenes aren't the high point of that film, but they aren't its lowest either. It's an adequate Hollywood farce, more or less, but doesn't seem to make much of its potential. The story is about a fake film production to cover a mob crackdown, and it turns into a fable about compromising one's vision and selling out and cashing in and filming a movie called "Arizona" in New England.

Matthew Broderick actually looks like a grownup, for once, but that might just be the beard talking. Alec Baldwin doesn't impress as much as he could as a starry-eyed FBI agent finally seeing his chance to do something big. The rest of the cast fails to make much of an impression as well (except in small bits, such as Toni Collette providing a drug test urine sample while chatting in a restaurant). Prominent for the lack of prominence is Calista Flockhart as a foul-mouthed struggling actress who takes small animals hostage to get her way at least twice. I think that her doing this is the old hackened phenomenon of the tv actor trying to escape typecasting as a popular, wholesome character, but she comes off as more annoying than startling or eye-opening.

On the other side of the cliché is Neil Patrick Harris's appearance in Harold and Kumar, as himself. Not only is he a former wholesome character trying to expand his reperitoire, his character is expected to be as nice as Doogie Howser and this allows him even more of a free hand to mess with the protagonists and the audience. He reappears later in the film and neatly ties up his little plot tangent, and satisfyingly so (for us and for the guys onscreen) and overall it works. Yes, it's a stunt, and one as blatant as Dustin Diamond's uncredited cameo in Made (as himself, the guy who played Screech on Saved by the bell) and just as well incorporated into the plot.

So did I like any of these movies? I'm not sure. Harold and Kumar go to White Castle made me laugh a number of times and brightened up what would otherwise been dull dish-washing. It has funny moments, but they don't gel into something of significance, unlike, oh, Office space, for example. The boys aren't Cheech and Chong reincarnated, and fail to overcome the limitations of the road movie, drug movie, and mismatched buddy films all in one shot.

The Terminal also made me laugh, and at more sophisticated jokes. It too falters, relying on too many neat little touches or strays too far from plausibility, but everybody involved puts so much into it to make it nevertheless watchable and enjoyable. Knowing Andrew Niccol had a hand in writing it helped me understand the inclusion of some of the film's scenes that were too quirky to be believable, but Spielberg and Hanks handle them more masterfully than Al Pacino and Niccol himself did with the clunky, dull and totally unbelievable S1m0ne from a couple years back. Niccol's an interesting writer, but in smaller doses and concepts not quite so high. Still, I think I liked it, and I'll probably watch it again someday, if for nothing else but the rich performances and the impressive set construction that doesn't distract from them at all.

I've probably seen The last shot the only time I'll watch it. My track record with Hollywood farces and insider jokes is spotty at best. Of the ones I can list off the top of my head:The Player, Get Shorty, Swimming with Sharks and The Big Picture, I wasn't particularly enamored with any of them. There are better movies about making movies, but that would be a whole different topic to address. Perhaps another time.

* The Peas are at the forefront of the so-called 'crunk' genre of music, revolving around partying (i.e. smoking marijuana), getting drunk, and having fun. While I am certianly fond of that last one, and occasionally have partaken of the previous item, I haven't ever smoked up or smoked out or partied or whatever the kids call smoking pot these days. While I seem to be able to enjoy drug-reference movies on some level (Half baked was funnier than Harold and Kumar), what little bit of crunk I've heard has no appeal to me at all**.

** Moreover the popular crunk appropriation of the term 'retarded' to mean 'drunk and/or high' is at the same time offensive and disappointing. In addition it brings to mind the reprehensible Saturday night live sketches starring Jimmy Fallon and Rachel Dratch as idiot teenagers with a camcorder and a crush on each other. In every sketch, many times more than once, they play-insult each other with "You're retarded" in a stupid accent before making out. I do not like to be reminded of these sketches.

Well, one thing I can say about Resident evil: apocalypse is that it is darker than its predecessor. Much darker, in fact, as the first film takes place in well-lit hallways, and this one in the poorly-lit streets of Toronto* at night.

Gotta love that Canadian film industry.

I never did decide if I liked the original Resident evil, but I'm pretty sure I didn't like this one (and the critics, and the AMG** agree with me). It's interesting to watch, for the action and the effects, but it's more a showreel for the stunt coordinators and makeup people and CGI technicians than for the director or screenwriter(s). Some of it is too cool of an idea for the time they give it: one major scene finds Milla Jovovich apparently running down the face of Toronto's City Hall, an effect done largely in-camera (with a stuntwoman). It's over in a matter of seconds, just before rational thought could kick in about how ridiculous the idea is as well as visual critique that she's leaning backwards (i.e. upward, against both gravity and momentum). It's certainly something I've never seen before.

I've never seen most of the characters from the games, either, but I assume rubber-masked Nemesis is one of them. He's got 'miniboss' written all over him, from the massive guns to ugly visage, and even what looked to be a characteristic weak spot that is never exploited in the hand to hand fighting (unless you think I mean the big guy's deep-down sentimentality) or other proceedings.

Everything moves so quickly that some of the more ludicrous ideas seem appropriate enough, or at least plausible in the sense of the movie. The aforementioned brawl between tiny Milla and the massive Nemesis is an exhibition fight, staged by the evil and overarching Umbrella corporation (how awesome of a name is that?) to test two 'strains' of research against each other. I must admit, taking the time to get real-world testing during a virus outbreak and zombie assault takes a certain dedication to R&D that most corporate leaders, particularly ones with clipped British accents, couldn't deliver.

This single-minded determination and outright eminence of evil actually bolsters the company's onscreen credibility, not weakening it. For a company to be as far-reaching and to have the capabilities that it seems to have would take coordination and motivation on every level of management; there is no chance that the people in charge aren't aware of exactly what they're doing.

Which, apparently, is the development of viruses that create undead killing machines as well as multiple (competing even) methods of making the living into super killers as well. One can but wonder what these weapons are meant for (i.e. other than killing) as such a huge corporation would probably be raking in profits well above the GDPs of the countries/superpowers to which they could sell such weaponry. From the look of it they have the (will)power and resources to just steamroll anybody anyway.

The movie betrays its origin in gaming many a time, or so I assume. The editing is disjointed and the plot breathlessly sprints from one event to the next, often without any explanation up front or ever thereafter. One scene finds a squad of special forces attempting to defend a poorly-chosen position a street corner that turns onto a crossroads of death and destruction. Later we see more so-called S.T.A.R.S. holed up in a theater with a skillful sniper defending the front door, but no apparent defense on the other exits. Which is fine, since those doors only ever open from the inside, right? When people leave the theater, after, or during the movie, which some people probably did during this one.

Of course the movie dispenses with these slightly more intelligent cops with some well placed bullets, thematically a searing indictment of rational thought, a point driven further home by the appearance of Mike Epps for comic relief. As usual, nobody shoots him, and against the formula, he lives for the whole film. That's a nice touch, I suppose, though his character is largely extraneous and slightly annoying.

Which, really, you could say about the movie. It has more than a few interesting bits here and there, but the rock-stupid plot and one dimensional characters and mindless action scenes to bring them together all combine to make Apocalypse much less than the sum of its parts.

* Or as they call it, Raccoon City. I'm assuming that is the name from the games, but since I have never played any of the Resident evil games*** that's just a guess.

** And wouldn't you know it, but the AMG synopsis for this one is also incorrect. Twice!

...Resident Evil: Apocalypse finds Alice (Milla Jovovich) still battling the living dead who are overtaking Raccoon City. She was immune to the contagion by treatments she unwittingly received from the nefarious and all-powerful Umbrella Corporation. Alice encounters Jill Valentine (Sienna Guillory), a former member of Umbrella's internal defense team who shares Alice's immunity to the zombie virus. Forming an uneasy alliance... this tiny band of survivors seeks out Dr. Charles Ashford (Jared Harris) ... however ... he'll help Alice and her partners only if [his daughter] is returned to him safe and sound.

and here was my response to them:

Jill Valentine does not share Alice's immunity to the virus; Angelina Ashford does. Jill shares Alice's affinity and skill with guns.

The tiny band of survivors is not seeking out the Doctor, but his daughter, and he is clear about that at the start of their dealings.

I didn't even address the thematic mistakes in the synopsis, as it describes Milla & co. as trying to save the world, not just get out of the city alive. The movie's bad, but not in a 'ten people to save the world' kind of way.

*** I'll admit I played a copy of the Japanese PS1 light gun game Biohazard: Gun Survivor which was eventually imported over here, sans light gun capability, as Resident Evil: Survivor (or Outbreak or something like that). I never played it in English nor did I play it at all after ten minutes or so, so my exposure to the canon is, as I mentioned, virtually nil.

I hate to do this to y'all, but ladies and gentleman, I am attempting to turn over a something of a new leaf. You see, 2 A.M. (EST) is too late to go to bed every night. This of course is not your fault, as I generally tell you that I'm going to bed a while before I actually do, in fact, go to bed.

It's not a lie, it's just a little stretch of the truth. Does that make me a dishonest person?

I'm a negative person. Or so it seems lately. This does not make me happy*. I'm also one to occasionally dodge culpability, so I'm putting the blame on those late nights. Lack of sleep and whatnot.

It's probably a completely incorrect diagnosis, but it's what I'm going with for right now.

In the few days that I've started getting to bed before 1:30 (once even before 12:45) I've not necessarily been more pleasant. I've been no meaner, to boot.

I've also been waking up earlier, since I'm stuck in that rut of however many hours of sleep I'm used to getting, from between two or three when I fall asleep until five sometime when Jessica's alarm sounds.

Of course I very rarely hear her alarm, or at least react to it in a way that I can remember later. When she leaves for work and I fall back asleep, I generally don't even notice it, until I wake up at eight sometime (my clock is rather... inaccurate. Consistent, but inaccurate) and hastily rush myself off to work.

So that's how things were before. Lately I've awoken before my alarm, sometimes even having moments of dreams. Happy dreams.

So what I'm trying to tell you is that I'm trying to go to bed earlier.

But enough about me. Let's get back to the west coast.

Tonight I watched The Hitcher. It's the story of a guy who's trying to get to San Diego.

At first I didn't quite understand why driving a Cadillac from Chicago to San Diego would place our protagonist in the middle of nowhere Texas. After I watched the movie I checked out the route, and realized/remembered that the vast majority of the middle of these great States of ours isn't crisscrossed with convenient diagonal highways. A flying crow wouldn't cross the Lone Star state's borders (barring poor air conditions) but those confined to wheels on the ground find themselves at the mercy of the interstate highway grid, and that grid appears to pass through Amarillo between the city of broad shoulders and America's finest city (or so they say).

But our protagonist, played by the same guy I'd last seen (and only seen) in Soul man, is at the mercy of something much more sinister. He encounters Rutger Hauer, who I'd last seen (and possibly, again, only seen) in Blade runner, an enigmatic dark stranger who seems to vindicate every old wives' tale and urban legend ever uttered about hitchhiking.

I'd been told it was a creepy movie, and I was told correctly. It's quite creepy. So as to not give anything away, like the excessive bodycount (lots, but almost all of the violence is served offscreen), or the surprise ending (revenge is served), I'll just mention that it is crafted well enough, for what it is, and enjoyable enough, for what it is. It's not 'horror' (so I don't know where I thought I'd heard that), and it's not particularly deep, but it does lend me a tiny bit of perspective into Highwaymen, directed almost twenty years later by the same guy.

Let's hear it for Robert Harmon. C. Thomas Howell doesn't do too bad (he makes for a good everyman coming unhinged) but Robbie's really the star of the show. This time.

* In fact, by nature of being negative, I'm not happy. By definition, even.