Avatar sucked just a little bit more than I miss you

In a more enlightened age when free love and shocking drug abuse reigned Pauline Kael would have saved us from Cameron's new movie Avatar. It's in her honor I'd like to rip into this critic-beloved travesty.

Those following industry news have all heard Cameron touting his new technologies for years leading up to the release of Avatar, and he certainly delivers on that front. The visuals of this movie are amazing. The world that Cameron paid a large team of researches and technicians millions and millions and millions of dollars to create is visually stunning, lifelike, and simply like nothing you've seen before.

The movie itself is complete crap with pretensions of being art. Let's be honest. This isn't some unflinching allegory for western imperialism. It's not a boldly innovative tale that will force us to examine our world in a new light. No, this is a product that cost producers nearly half a billion dollars. That's billion with a "b" if you weren't paying attention. When something costs that kind of money you can't afford to screw around, so you follow the melodrama's formula to the letter. You do this because people love that formula. You'll make lot's of money and the shareholders won't fire you.

I don't begrudge them for being cliched and formulaic. If I had half a billion dollars riding on something I'd sure as hell do the same thing. What's enraging is the length, the lack of early action, and Sam Worthington's inconsistent voiceover which doesn't tell you much other than how stupid the studios think you are. I shelled out fifteen dollars a ticket because I wanted a 3D cinematic roller coaster. I came here looking for blood and gladiatorial action. Where are my spear-chucking, dinosaur-riding battle sequences? Where is my hot human-on-overgrown-smurf action? Two hours in and I still hadn't seen a single aircraft destroyed by fluorescent pterodactyls. You do get these things eventually, but so much time is wasted. We know our protagonist will fall in love with the smurf who sulkily agrees to train him. Were 45 minutes of exposition necessary? Didn't they invent the montage for this sort of thing?



If you're looking for the transcendental experience the critics and fans seem to be raving about, I suggest spending an entire day spent watching smurf reruns, dropping acid, and eating shrooms. Then and only then should you go watch Avatar.

Last one I swear

Time to submit yet another (you guessed it) Asian exploitation film. For your viewing pleasure...



Enter The Ninja is the first of a trilogy by Sho Kosugi (actual ninja!) followed shortly by Revenge of the Ninja and last, but certainly not least, Ninja III: The Domination.

It stars a white guy, but the movie is still pretty cool. I especially like that his mustache is so powerful you can see it right through the mask. It gives him an edge against the other ninja much like Chuck Norris' beard.



Other noteworthy trivia is this movie has the coolest opening credits of all time. Seriously, there is a scientific consensus on that.

I'd suggest not drinking when you watch this movie unless you are among like minded friends or have a particularly stable psyche. Definitely not for the suicide prone (I'm looking at you Japan). Enjoy your newfound sobriety!

Oh yes, I can dig it

There aren't really words to express how much I love this movie. I'll just give you some pictures. They're worth a thousand anyway.



Note the lesion from a recent gonosphyphillherpelaids infection spreading on Swan's face. Never make out with mustachioed latinas from a bottom-tier street gang!



The scariest teeth you ever did see. Believe it or not, this is not the gayest gang uniform you will see in the film.



And this dude... This is the original badass. He can bite the head off a baby before you even know what happened. If he took those shades off, it would kill you outright.

The Warriors is constantly in rotation at Insomnia theater. You really have to go see it. I recommend a large bottle of Little Penguin chardonnay for your exploitation experience. Careful in those dark theater aisles though. I ended up pouring about half mine on the floor.

One for my homies.

This is why I do drugs

I missed my golden opportunity. Tell me what's worth living for now?



















Just keep dreaming I guess.

Eclecticism

I can't remember the last time I talked about a film that didn't have at least one decapitation. Lest I be seen as a certifiable gore-snob reveling in the explicit violence rending the moral fabric of our nation I'd like to talk about Clint Eastwood.



That we could all marry women 35 years our junior... Who can blame her though? One year shy of 80 and he can still make a grown man crap himself. He's perhaps the most extreme example of Hollywood's vogue for geriatric action heroes. When he tells the gang youth in Gran Torino he would blow their heads off and sleep soundly afterward there's something in that gravely voice that makes you believe him. He'll do it man. He's crazy.



The man bleeds masculinity. Not to mention he's masterful in the director's chair. His is the kind of filmmaking you don't see anymore, the very best of a bygone era. No MTV generation inspired quick-cutting or Oliver Wood cinematography-as-a-track-and-field-event antics, but he'll make you want to scream at all the right moments just the same.

Do yourself a favor and add his filmography to your netflix queue. I'll recommend (but not buy because I am poor) some Blackjack Pasture to go with your experience. Like Eastwood, it's from Carmel-by-the-sea, California and possesses the soul of a cowboy.

Zombie erotica

A friend of mine recently gave this underrated sub-genre a stab, and it got me thinking. What films could I recommend to spark that perverse imagination of his? It didn't take me long to come up with a short list, which is now provided here for your enrichment.

Let's start by keeping things local: New Haven's very own Love of the Dead. It's sexy. It's funny. It's horrifying. It's everything you could want from the field, and the strongest indie short film offering I've seen come out of CT in years. For those of you who missed the Yale humanities center screening, the entire film is now available online.

Next on the list is something you've no doubt seen coming a mile off. If you haven't seen Dead Alive a.k.a. Braindead then run out and rent it right now. Yes, right now. Why are you still here? Check out that hot zombie on zombie action in the basement. With an ordained priest no less? Scandalous!



I couldn't find an actual picture of the scene since all my blogger brethren are prudes. Prudes!

Moving on, you need to check out the third installment of the Return of the Living Dead series. Yes, I know it sucked. What matters here is that it has arguably the hottest zombie of all time.



Throw in some S&M themes since zombie porn is apparently not dirty enough and you have... I don't know what you have. A touching tale of young love? A harrowing allegory of the modern military-industrial complex and its inevitable evils? A wasted piece of celluloid? Whatever. Melinda Clark who prefers to be called Julie is smoke'n. I love those spikes baby.

Last and certainly not least we have to talk about Re-Animator. Not only do I get to reference Lovecraft, I get to make an obvious pun about head.



It doesn't get much more erotic than that.

It's all in the title

I went to see a matinee of Transformers 2 today, because I'm a whore. It was oddly unsatisfying and not even in that "I enjoyed that but still feel filthy" kind of way. Upon returning home I announced I was ready to shed my debaucherous lifestyle and settle down with a good man from the Korean new wave. I've got my eye on Chan-wook Park, but who am I kidding? It would be good for about three months followed by five painful years of forced smiles and awkward dates culminating in his tears while I scream for a divorce.



That was my unwieldly way of telling you Transformers 2 sucked. Like you didn't already know...

Let's talk about films that don't suck! Way of the Gun by Christopher Mcquarrie is such a film.



There's something about a Mcquarrie script that makes dual-wielding pistols look legitimate. His brother is responsible for the firefight choreography, and it really shines. You haven't seen anything quite like it elsewhere.

As a directorial debut it falters in places, but there's more than enough to keep you going, and glimpses of brilliance do occasionally flit by. I really think this guy has amazing potential (although it would seem he's out of the game now). Mcquarrie spits in the face of hollywood stereotypes and really knows how to show instead of tell. Great performances by the cast (notably Caan and Del Toro) help him in that regard.

If nothing else, watch it to see Sarah Silverman get punched in the face. Booyah! I'd say that goes well with a bottle of kosher cabernet sauvignon.

I just need the pom poms

Sometimes I feel like that slut from high school. You know, the one who was always sleeping with the muscle-bound jocks who treated her like crap?

Take Paul McGuigan's Push as the most recent example. I'm not stupid. I know this movie is going to be a steaming pile of celluloid, but I see a telekinetic gunfight in the trailer and buy the tickets anyway. Next thing I know I'm standing outside the theater trying to straighten my crumpled blouse feeling dirty and used.

The parallel continues for any action movie.



Seriously, just put some jersey's on these guys and it's the 12th grade all over again. I'm so easy all it takes is an explosion on the cover to get me alone in a darkened room. I don't learn my lesson either. Next time some vampire fare walks by and flashes a little Ethan Hawke at me I'll be in that position of degradation again before long.



To be fair, Push isn't that bad, but it's certainly not good. It suffers from lackluster directing, a contrived plot, and typical hollywood disneyland morals. You can't help but see the potential squandered here. If you're a whore like me and plan to watch this movie anyway, I recommend you don't drink, or, if you do drink, I recommend keeping the room free of any sharp objects.

Worthwhile things! Dakota Fanning, in following with Spielberg-chosen-girl tradition, appears to have developed a serious cocaine habit and ceased to age.

On killers

Lieutenant Colonel Dave Grossman's well-argued theories on killing don't apply to the Japanese (because there's something wrong with their brains as I've stated before). Check out Takashi Miike's Ichi The Killer for proof.




You could call this film a less polished precursor to Chan Wook Park's Oldboy directed with the energy of Mark Neveldine/Brian Taylor production. That wouldn't really be doing it justice though. Rent it and see. It goes well with the sake sampler from Miya's on Howe Street (no flavored syrups; the apples are brewed right in!), and a big plate of tempura shrimp. Oh yes. The shrimp are vital.

Is it possible I'll be recommending anything that is not a Japanese splatter film ever again? Yes. Is it likely? I think you know the answer to that.

PS - I'm sad to report a mosquito gave me the west nile, and there won't be any new updates while I relearn how to type with my amputated left hand. It's my hope a vengeance-driven mechanic can construct some kind of eviscerating device to serve me as a prosthetic.

Conan, what is best in life?

Beheading dudes.



I freaking love the American grindhouse cover for this movie. "It's impossible to keep a body count!" I disagree. Still, if you lose count, three year old Daigoro happily provides the score about halfway through.

I'm not going to recommend a wine for this one. Suffice to say if you're the kind of guy that drinks wine while watching Ogami Itto impale ninja with pieces of his infant son's baby carriage, you are a man of impeccable tastes, and whatever spirits you choose to imbibe I will stand behind the decision.

Amputees are sexy

Here's a new talent to put on your radar screens: Noboro Iguchi. He entered the scene in 2003 with Koi-suru yuchu aka A Larva to Love, and has been making titillating exploitation films since that time. I was turned on to him after watching a trailer for The Machine Girl and immediately placing it at the number one spot on my netflix queue.

For a pairing I recommend rice wine. Sake and gratuitous blood-letting go together like garlic and basil I tell you.



This is the kind of B movie a man can really get behind. It's all here; hot women, dismemberment, kungfu. Apparently the the girl playing Miki is even a softcore porn star (which calls to mind possible allusions to guro, social commentary?). Iguchi has spared no detail for your debaucherous pleasures. He even managed to crank out a mini-sequel in 2009.



Yes. I know.

If you're an out and out freak like me, this isn't anything you haven't already seen. I was , much to my roommates delight (or was that horror?), able to accurately predict just what tempura oil would be used for in this movie. I was also able to name and describe the function of the metal-box-on-a-chain device a certain villain wields. Originality aside, Iguchi pulls everything off with tongue planted firmly in cheek and the kind of exuberant flashiness only the Japanese are capable of.

Are you still here? Go watch it already. RoboGeisha is coming out next year.

Indie filmmaking in CT (no, the other Indie)

There's something very wrong with the state of indie filmmaking in CT. Namely, our movies kind of suck. I'm glad no one reads this blog, for I'm about to say some hurtful things, and I feel a kinship with the filmmaking community of our state. Still, our movies kind of suck.



I'll make my case. 17 years ago (that's nearly two freaking decades, two freaking decades during which time the most exciting technology advances in the history of filmmaking have occurred) Robert Rodriguez made El Mariachi for $7,000, the price of a used car. This is the result.



It's a b-movie for sure, but it's pretty good. It also won the audience prize at Sundance. Then, 16 years later, at nearly double the budget, we made this.



I know they had fun making this movie, and no one is happier than me to see their success. Honestly. Still, why do our movies look like they were shot on a second hand camcorder in someone's backyard? Probably because that's exactly how they were made, but let's move away from that.

Rodriguez is one talented bastard, for sure, but he wrote everything down! It's in a book! See? We can read this book and copy him! Our movies should be better and cheaper not worse and more expensive.

Argh, rant finished. I should practice what I preach, yah? Well I'll see you again in December and you can be the judge.

Honorable opponents

This is my primary competition. I think I can take them.



Still, I'd be happier if I could roll like Carpenter with a secret weapon.



Any takers?

Geniusai

Rian Johnson's brilliance is not limited to making angsty highschool noir films. Observe.

Mountain Goats - Woke Up New (Directed by Rian Johnson) from rcjohnso on Vimeo.

Drunkeness in the workplace

It's been a bad week for celebs. Thanks to media super exposure I don't feel the need to go into that in any detail.

Let's focus on the pedophile (alleged).



Specifically I want to talk about his movie (this is supposed to be a film blog). You can check out Moonwalker here without even having to leave your work desk! I'd say it goes nicely with a glass of merlot. Something really cheap. We aren't going for quality here, but results. Of course, if you aren't leaving your work desk you should cleverly hide it in a coke can. Hee hee.



For the truly hardcore readers get the most expensive wine you can find. It doesn't matter what. After all, we're honoring a man who purchased actual Ming-dynasty vases to smash in his music video for "Scream" (citation needed). Also, you need to hunt down the out of print but visually superior laser disc edition of the film.

Moonwalker isn't good on any kind of artistic or entertainment level, but as a study on one superstar's psyche you're not going to find a more informative piece. This is MJ at his most self indulgent. Go into it with that understanding and I'm sure you'll find the experience fascinating.

Better than gainful employment

Concept art! It's great tasting, less filling, and fun for the whole family. And what do we do with concept art children? Eaaat concept art! Or we can place it on the internet... but good try kids.



Where am I going to get glass...?



Or a... sewer... maybe?



Or a beard?! Doomed!

Concerning Profitable Rape

I think it was Rodriguez that said, "at some point working in Hollywood you realize you've become a whore". I'm sure others have offered up witticisms of a similar vein, but he's the one I keep a picture of under my pillow, and he's the one I quote.

I don't work in hollywood, but I want to, and I'm willing to become a whore to get there. In that way, the principle applies. This script is so grindhouse/exploitation it's ridiculous. This is my El Mariachi project after all. Do anything it takes to shoot a feature. Sell to local home video distributors. Repeat. Hopefully you don't go to jail in the process.

It's exploitation because the baser elements sell, and everyone knows that. Sex and violence easily overcome shortcomings in your story, actors, and budget. Exhibit A:



The first draft of my (still untitled) project is finished and I like to think I've woven a compelling human drama into mindless violence. Beneath the surface it's a haunting meditation on the primal nature of mankind. Now, all I need is a coolly obscure and arguably irrelevant title like Straw Dogs. Who are we kidding though? If anyone watches this crap they will do so because the rating box promises "adult situations and nudity".

Screenwriting woes

Robert Rodriguez is a personal hero which shouldn't come as much of a surprise. An aspiring filmmaker who finds Rodriguez's story inspirational? Shocking! He's more of a god to me at this point. I read his book like it's the freaking bible, going over certain passages again and again until the mantra soothes my troubled mind.



I plan to follow in his footsteps (possibly with great historical accuracy) and make my first feature length film this summer. Microbudget of course. Shot on digital. The problem is a need a script, and I suck at writing. You may have noticed...

I'd say it's a bad idea to read much of Warren Ellis before you start work on a script. I use him specifically, but really it's a bad idea to read a lot of work by anyone who is worlds more talented than you when you're trying to do your own stuff. For me, every professional writer who ever lived, now lives, or will live falls into that category (maybe even freaking Hemingway).

Wine and Film: Part Deux

I recently accomplished what the greatest minds in the history of mankind have tried and failed to do. I discovered the purpose of life. I'm not talking about the final chapter of Solomon's Lamentations either. Though, that is a pretty good answer.

No, with respect to the wisest man that has ever lived, the purpose of life is not to serve God. The purpose of life is to drink wine and watch films. Like many great discoveries, this was stumbled upon quite by accident. I'd opened up a bottle of zinfandel and popped Wes Anderson's latest work into the PS2. I think I may have been in a bad mood when this started. It's hard to say. Everything prior to my enlightenment is like a rapidly fading dream. At any rate, around the time Bill Murray fails the catch his train I realized that I was happier than I had ever been in my life. For a time I was content to sit back and let the waves of euphoria wash over my being, but it wasn't long before my more analytical personality subset stepped in. In true scientific fashion, I tried to replicate the experience the following night. I rented Punisher: War Zone from the red box (only a buck!) and this time went with a pinot noir. Hitting play on the DVD menu, I took a sip of wine readied myself for bliss.

I immediately began to have suicidal thoughts. I'm talking about within the opening credits. By the time I had gotten to Ray Stevenson kneecapping some (irish?) parkour freak with a sniper rifle the knives on my counter had taken on a tempting light. It would be quick, I told myself. Painless, just like Mike Altman promised. Fortunately my roommate came home soon after that and I was able to passive aggressively vent all of my negative energy directly onto him.

Shaken, but undeterred I continued with my dark experiments. At this point I fancied myself the protagonist from some work of Lovecraft. I would defeat the cliched pessimistic ending however. I entered the fray with a militant flair. The following night found me seated in the living room dual wielding a bottle of Gnarly Head old vine zin and a plate of homemade pesto shrimp fettuccine. I'd brought out the heavy artillery; Lawrence of Arabia. No one could have a suicidal thought while watching Lawrence of Arabia. I'm sure of it.

Success! Maurice Jarre's epic score filled the room, and, once again I found myself floating in a blissful state normally reserved for the most diligent of Buddhist priests. Keep in mind, at this point, I'm only staring at a freaking black screen. Can you imagine the sensations once actual vivid anamorphic 70mm images began to assault the senses?

I'm telling you, religions could be founded on this.

New New Wave

The interwebz have changed our world as everyone knows at this point. Within it's labyrinthine depths, the internet has spawned a new digital universe that is parallel to (and entwined with) the physical one we inhabit. Entire cultures and subcultures have sprung up in this homegrown alien landscape. Their raw energies have breached our own culture and changed the face of entertainment, politics, socialization, and... grammar. I grit my teeth here with such intensity that Jared Leto can hear it from across the room.

Everyone knows about the powerhouses. Google. Youtube. Facebook. These are the phenomena with mass equivalent to an PHP moon. Even in the real world we can feel her server side processes dynamically altering the HTML tides of our lives. My, that was an unwieldy analogy.

Something that fascinates me is a single facet of the youtube effect. Namely what I see as the unintentional creation of a new new wave. A (very) brief history: in the late 1950's through the 1960's a maverick group of french filmmakers and critics formed theories and films that flew in the face of convention. These iconoclastic auteurs questioned everything that had come before essentially tore down the ruling class of the filmmaking world.

Today we can watch dark jedi Tom Cruise killing Oprah.



The old gods of cinema are no longer sacred thanks to a new generation that has grown up with cameras in their phones and wifi connections. We have a veritable army of kids with film studios in their laptops. They are untrained, uneducated masses with power, and they play without restraint in a chaotic digital landscape.

15 years ago King Leonidas would have inspired awe and fear in the populous. Today he break dances in a bear suit and guns down Chunk with a tommy gun. Or is that Captain Picard? Then again, everyone seems to want a piece of Chunk, even Jack Bauer.

Youtube new wave. Where you can watch Korben Dallas fight Neo. Neo fight Robocop. Robocop fight The Terminator. You can watch Simon Pegg gun down Charlize Theron (and just about everyone else), or, if you're among our female viewership, you can watch the touching story. of two star-crossed lovers. Didn't notice those homoerotic undertones the first time you watched Back To The Future, did you?

Hitler raves about his stolen car. Obama gangster raps (badly), and badgers dance to techno raves of "don't taze me bro" and Christian Bale cursing out his DP. Both of those albums would come with the parental warning sticker for sure.

Sure, it's mindless entertainment. Internet memes that will be remembered only by the truly hardcore geeks. To me though, it has the spirit of irreverence that I find when watching À Bout De Souffle. These people are taking the movie icons of a generation and turning them into unwitting puppets. The parts of a film that used to make you hold your breath without realizing it are reduced to 2 minutes worth of comedy on your lunch break.

It's part of something much larger for sure. This is a transition to the future, but I love what it is right now. Youtube new wave.

Rock the dragon

With the new dragon ball movie in only a month, I felt it was time to retread some of those nostalgic memories. I jumped on the interwebs and and was watching old fansubbed copies of DBZ movie 7 (super android #13) in no time.

I'm not sure when it was I fell in love again, but my best guess in somewhere around when that wave crashes over superimposed kanji in the opening credits.

I don't want to complain about my childhood. It was better than some people's. It was more screwed up than some people's. I consider myself fortunate at any rate. One irrefutable fact, however, is that I was media deprived to an extreme. I never owned a tape or CD to my recollection. We never had cable, and what static infused signals my sisters and I managed to snare with our crude tin foil traps were measured out to us in meager rations. There were one or two movies we'd received as christmas presents over the years. I think I visited a theater 3 times between age 1 and 16.

Thanks to my friend Dennis, Dragon Ball Z was a ray that pierced the thick veil of media blackout. I first heard him talking about it at a school meeting in the auditorium. He spoke of strange and mysterious things. Goku's base power outnumbered the entire Ginyu force's by 14,000. Still this was nothing to Frieza who numbered 1,000,000 is his fourth form. Dennis talked about kamehamehas that could destroy planets, and Goku sacrificing his life energy to make a wish with the all powerful Shenron to save the universe. And what the crap was a "super saying" anyway?




Those spiky haired bastards fascinated me.

In short order order I was sitting on his bed surrounded by video game consoles and watching Vegeta shatter an androids protective lenses through the sheer power of his aura. I was hooked. We'd eagerly await new bootleg episodes to arrive stateside, and snap them up. Of course we grew out of it eventually, but DBZ became my childhood nostalgia in the process. Some people reminisce about Saturday morning cartoons. I look back fondly on future Super Saiyajin Trunks killing Cyborg Frieza.

This was all incredibly cheesy, but it possessed some kind of magic. The world of DBZ is a world of high adventure. Dinosaurs roam the wilderness and there are evil beings of godlike power to be battled at every turn.

Apparently this magic still exists. As I mentioned above, I was back in love from moment one of my return. I found myself lurking the forums once more in search of validity to the Dragon Ball AF series. I formulated theories in my mind over what happened when Goku transformed into a super saiyajin in the middle of forming a genkidama while fighting Dr. Gero's android. Obsession with base power was back. When Vegeta allows Babidi to take over his mind and create Maijin Vegeta, is the resulting power level greater than Goku's? What about when he goes super saiyjin 3?

Ever notice these posts aren't really about anything? I was speaking of the movie.

The trailer looks like it was cut by an eleven year old. The clips I've seen actually feature some cool fight sequences however. Still, I've no doubt this movie will suck. Bulma doesn't even have blue hair! As they do concerning most matters, my thoughts on this closely align with Hitler's. Of course, Dragon Ball and Hitler have never gotten along.

Do yourself a favor and skip next month's offering. Pick up some DVDs of the original series and kick back. You won't be disappointed.

KungFu Hustle vs. KungFu Panda

Many of you may not be familiar with my comparison and general analysis of the films KungFu Hustle and KungFu Panda. Which is to say many of you are unread, uneducated slobs. Fortunately I forgive you and have decided to provide you with a chance salvage some part of your sad existence. I'll be posting the entire volume here. This is considered the definitive work on the subject.

KungFu Hustle VS. KungFu Panda

Round 1: Autuer Ingeniusality

KungFu Hustle



Stephen Chow was first discovered hustling on the streets of Hong Kong to scratch out a living. Taken under the wing of a blind repertory theater owner it wasn't long before Mr. Chow revealed himself to be a prodigy in the field. Only one year after being lifted from squalor he wrote, directed, and starred in KungFu Hustle. At the time, Stephen Chow was 12 years old.

KungFu Panda



Jack Black is obese.

1 point: Kungfu Hustle

Round 2: Critical Receptionality

Kungfu Panda is going to the oscars this year. It will get trounced by Wall-e, but they always say it's an honor just to be nominated. Kungfu Hustle will never receive any amount of critical attention because there is no justice in the universe. You live and die alone.

1 point: KungFu Panda(?)

Final Round: Historical Accuracy

Kungfu Panda manages to work in some really great history lessons without feeling contrived. You're watching action of pure awesome pouring from your screen, yes, but you are also learning what hold Master Wuxi developed in the third dynasty. The fact that Po attains enlightenment without having to die/go insane/read a scroll/receive simultaneous chi driven manipulation of thousands of pressure points is an incredible oversight. Unfortunately, this is typical of how hollywood will brush aside realism in order to pander to their target demographic.

Kungfu Hustle manages to get the enlightenment angle right. It also demonstrates some little known facts such as the ability to amplify the already lethal lion's roar technique, or that tai chi chuan can prevent injury from abusive spouses. What's really noteworthy about this film is it introduces some nearly forgotten techniques such as the deadly melody to a brand new generation. Could we expect anything less from the Yuen clan's most renowned member?

Winner: Kungfu Hustle

An epic battle for sure. It was anyone's game. Look for me to revisit this when we see Kungfu Hustle 2 and Kungfu Panda 2 in the coming years.

Here's to you Mr. Ebert

"Mrs. Robinson, if you don't mind my saying so, this conversation is getting a little strange"

I stumbled across and old review of The Graduate by Roger Ebert today. No. Not that old. I'm talking 1997 when Mr. Ebert reviewed the 30th anniversary release of the film. The irony contained within is tangible.

First off, The Graduate is one my favorite films of all time. Seriously, It would be hard to overstate my love for this movie, and I'm known for my ability to exaggerate. What I'm trying to say is I'm biased. Moving on.

Roger Ebert is old.

When the he first reviewed this movie it would seem he liked it. He liked it a lot. Here's an example: As Benjamin and Elaine escaped in that bus at the end of The Graduate, I cheered, the first time I saw the movie.

Ah. The first time he says. However, times have changed the man as they must change us all. He proceeds to explain how wisdom has prevailed in his golden years. He now sees that the parents were in the right all along. Benjamin is simply a typical self-centered mentally challenged young'n. As Mr. Ebert states, Anyone with average intelligence should have known, in 1967, that the word plastics contained valuable advice. Clearly this generation gap the movie portrays is patently false.



"To be perfectly honest she doesn't like me"

Show it to a young Roger Ebert. He Cheers. Show it to an old Roger Ebert. He rejects the values as false. What's incredible here, what's mind blowing to me, is that he doesn't see how this neatly proves the entire point that he is dismissing. The disparity of views (his own views!) clearly shows the generation gap.

When does it happen? When do people forget what it's like to live for something other than the values of society and adherence to an ancient set of rules? When do our passions cease to be a factor in our lives? When do we stop wanting our lives to be... how did Benjamin put it? Different. It seems to happen to everyone at some point.



"Well, I would say that I'm just drifting. Here in the pool"

I'm not young myself, and far from championing the film's anti establishment themes I actually see Benjamin's actions as incredibly foolish. Of course that isn't the point, and I don't believe it was Mike Nichol's point when he made this movie.

Like most films, the ending is vital to understanding any message the artists might have. Watch it and you see Benjamin's expression of exuberance turn blank. He begins to look uncomfortable. Elaine looks at him and as she turns back to the front of the bus her face begins to mirror his. They both stare in awkward silence to the front of the bus. Sitting apart from each other on the bench the silence continues and the bus rolls on towards the horizon and an uncertain future.



"Goddamn that's great. So old Elaine Robinson got started in a Ford"

So what is the point? Is there one? Benjamin and Elaine had a lot going for them if they just played by the rules. A high paying and soul crunching career in plastics for Benjamin. A loveless but financially stable and socially acceptable marriage for Elaine. They both rebelled against their fates and had the daring to seek something more. Like real life though, there's no fairy tale ending to this picture. Maybe they come to regret their decisions, but that's something we all need to figure out for ourselves. That's part of getting old, and that's what The Graduate is all about. That's what Roger Ebert has forgotten.

Oscars 2009

The nominations are in!



I have to say I'm pulling for Heath Ledger posthumously being awarded the oscar for best actor in a supporting role. It would be the right thing to do, and I'm not just saying he should get it for the sake of the gesture. The joker was terrifying. Between James Newton Howard's and Hans Zimmer's unsettling score and Heath Ledger's powerhouse acting I would feel my intestines start to knot up any time he was on the screen.



Of course Robert Downey Jr. is in there too for his role in Tropic Thunder. I loved it as much as the rest of you (maybe a little bit more), but I'm still rooting for Mr. Ledger. Maybe if another actor ahem-tomcruise-ahem from Tropic Thunder was in the running I'd have more trouble making a decision.

Meanwhile we have Pixar cleaning house in the animated feature department. Honestly, it's not even a fair fight. Maybe Hugh Jackman will do the right thing and mumble the results away from the microphone before unceremoniously tossing the statue into the audience. I've got my fingers crossed.

It's interesting to see three films adapted from comic books in the running for various categories this year. I certainly never expected to use Wanted and The Oscars in the same sentence, but this is a brave new world. I wanted to see The Dark Knight up there for screenplay. Without shame I'll tell you the script was great. Also without shame I'll tell you In Bruges was boring and overrated to the extreme. Going back to comic books, I didn't find the effects for Iron Man that amazing. I think they're giving them the nod since it was cheated out of the running for best film.

Just kidding.

Sort of.

And last but least of all least! Best picture! This is the one everyone cares about, and if you (like me) haven't seen many of the films on the list this year, fear not! Call out of work next week and take a day trip to your closest metropolitan center. The theaters there are playing everything you need to see in order to get prepared for the big night. A large (read: ginormous) popcorn and a baby-sized Dr. Pepper (as in the size of a baby, not the size appropriate for babies) will be in order since you're going to be there for a while. If you survive this ordeal you can sit in front of your entertainment center Febuary 22nd and scream knowledgeably to family members about what a crock the academy awards have turned into.

I'll see you there.

le plus en colère chien andalou dans le monde

So there's something wrong with Asians.


I mean what the crap dude.

I could go on at length about this but google up some of the crap the Japanese do one of these days, and then come tell me I'm wrong. It's not just the Japanese either. It's Asians across the board. I point you towards Oldboy, towards Curse of the Golden Flower. Korean and Chinese films respectively (South Korean, it's all good).

Before you go thinking I'm a racist know that some of my best friends are asian(ish).


See? I know an Asian person. Obviously I can't be racist.

To be fair most nations have their share of the truly tweaked. If you are one of the the few, the proud, the twisted who have actually sat through Eraserhead to witness David Lynch's mind and stomach rending climax you know Americans can really pour on the weird. And since we're talking about surrealist horror it would invoke the wrath of film snobs everywhere to not give a nod to An Andalusian Dog (or does having to mention it just insult the snob's intelligence?).

Personally I didn't find the short as disturbing as the images alone would suggest. While I wouldn't go as far as saying the choice in music gave things a comical tone, it certainly took the edge off the horror. Give this piece the unsettling mechanical score of Eraserhead and I think you'd have something equally terrifying and more than forty years ahead of it's time (non-linear narrative!?). I must admit the legendary opening scene still managed to give me shivers though.



Now unlike Lynch, Dali and Buñuel unequivocally state that their film defies interpretation of any kind. This is funny to me as David Lynch's work is completely freaking impenetrable. I particularly like how he gives "hints" to film meanings such as "We are like the spider. We weave our life and then move along in it. We are like the dreamer who dreams and then lives in the dream. This is true for the entire universe". I couldn't make this stuff up if I wanted to. Seriously, I couldn't.

Despite what may appear to be complaints these are all amazing films. Check them all out if you haven't already. See if you spot the similarities I did (is that a reference to Un Chien Andalou in the prison sequence from Oldboy?). You'll thank yourself for it later.

Wine and Film

So I watched Qui êtes-vous, Polly Magoo? the other day.

Looking for something nonsensical, satirical, and altogether entertaining? Pick it up on netflix. I had my french new wave fix with a glass of Paringa Cabarnet Sauvignon which I'd recommend to you with great enthusiasm. Like film it's a great mash of things you'll love. Berry, chocolaty, nutty, with and oaky finish to remind you how much you wish you had a fireplace. It's also reasonably priced at 13.99 a bottle. Of course, Polly Magoo is the kind of film you name drop to impress your film snob friends, so maybe you'd like to go with something a little more ritzy. Dom Perignon is available for 199.99 a bottle over at wine.com. Go nuts. Douchebag.

Now I can see you going back to reread that paragraph (that's correct, I can see you). I did just recommend a wine to go with a movie. If you are like my movie watching partner in crime you've begun to scream and hurl things at the screen with righteous indignation. Wine does not go with movies! Wine goes with food! I would submit that wine and film are more alike then you realize.

Firstly, they are both made in California. You see? Already your objections are falling under my shock-and-awe worthy barrage of logic. I'm just getting started. Movies and wine both share the position of being something (the only things) worth getting out of bed in the morning for. Also, if you read this blog long enough you'll see I don't know anything about either of them. Enough similarities for you? I hope so because that's I'll I can think of.

Back to this movie. Qui êtes-vous, Polly Magoo? (Who Are You, Polly Magoo?) is a 1966 film by U.S. expatriate William Klein. In most movie capsules you'll see it described as a satire of the fashion industry in France, but there is so much more here. In true French New Wave fashion you'll see and emphasis on form over content. It's a product of a tumultuous time of experimentation and rebellion. You can almost see the new Hollywood being born out of the wreckage. The titular protagonist jumps from one scenario to another in stream-of-consciousness fashion. Each moment only vaguely related to the next but delicious in its own right (pay close attention to Prince Igor and Polly's animated time together, then tell me if you don't see a young Terry Gilliam watching in awe). I particularly liked how we switch from biting satire, to primal slapstick, to a sort of Wes Anderson-esque deadpan in the space of one movie. After watching check out the back stories of William Klein and lead actress Dorothy McGowan as they are fascinating in their own right and will make any repeat viewings that much more enjoyable.

This complex, twisted film is altogether awesome. A satire of fashion, yes, but Klein has reinvented the movie. He does not just create! He galvanizes! I am galvanized! (Just watch it already) It's hilarious then thought provoking then whimsical then just plain bizarre. I loved it. I think you will to.