Monthly Archives: January 2011

True Grit (2010)

Little Fockers

I think the most misleading thing about Little Fockers is the title, in that, while present, the Focker children are never quite the focus of the story like you might expect. It’s like… okay, you know how Anton Chekhov[1] said that if you see a gun on the mantel in act one of a play, it had better be fired by act three? This is like that play, in that there the children are on the metaphorical mantel, and in fact they get used in all sorts of ways. But, and here is my point, Anton Chekhov was not talking about a play named The Gun. See? They are a means to several different ends, but never once an actual focus. Maybe lots of movie titles work this way, and I just generally disregard them?

Anyway, though, the plot: a couple of movies ago, Ben Stiller married a blonde chick that I’ve only really seen in these movies, the result of which is that Robert De Niro and Dustin Hoffman get to be in-laws, and Stiller and De Niro have formed an uneasy truce. But all kinds of small troubles (child-raising, finances, sex lives, home renovations) lead to a renewal of the same hostilities between the two leading men that have been the theme of the entire series, and it’s impossible to avoid an unpleasant sense of déjà vu[2]. Especially when the flick itself is only mildly chuckle-worthy for the first two acts. Still, it eventually does get to be pretty amusing, though whether this was because my defenses were gradually worn down or they really did save the best for last is highly debatable.

Jessica Alba’s by now ubiquitous lingerie shot isn’t worth the price of admission, but it at least lets you convince yourself it was worth the time spent. …and if you know it won’t let you do that, I can safely say this is not the movie for you.

[1] Probably, but maybe someone else; in any event, not Samuel Clemens.
[2] Will they form a new uneasy truce by the end of this one? At what point does the terminology get downgraded to détente?

Lucifer: Evensong

Resident Evil – Code: Veronica – Book One

2 Replies

Did you ever find yourself wishing that someone would write a manga-style graphic novel that comprised a blend of two parts recap to one part walkthrough of a game that was first released for the Sega Dreamcast? If so, your troublingly narrow desire has been granted in the Resident Evil – Code: Veronica series, which… well, I’ve pretty much said all that there is to say about it, haven’t I? Still, you may be wondering exactly why I’d have bothered to own and read such a thing my own self, to which I can only respond that a) I wasn’t aware of the strategy-guide-like feel of the book until I read it today[1] and b) I never did actually finish the game itself, one of the very few Resident Evil games for which that is the case (well, besides the last couple, but I was much better at it in The Past, is what I’m saying), so it will be nice to have the knowledge gap plugged in.

In case you’re wondering, the manga thing is, while largely distasteful, not a bar to entry.

[1] Seriously, it included a couple of the “take this crest to that recessed panel to unlock the next area” puzzles, not to mention an honest-to-god green herb.

Naamah’s Curse

Have I mentioned how frustrated I am by my inability to find the place on an Amazon product page where I can click that I own it and then rate it? It used to be invisible just from some browsers, but now it’s invisible from basically all of them[1] (unless it’s actually gone), and either way, I like them being able to take my ownership and tastes into account when recommending things, and how can they take them into account if they will not let me show said tastes and ownerships them?[2] Not, tragically, that I would be giving Naamah’s Curse a particularly high rating.

I mean, throughout the long life of the series, it has been exactly the kind of thing I go for. Travelogue fantasy in which the heroes go from place to place, exploring new cultures and solving new puzzles: I’ve been reading it since David Eddings first launched the quest for a blue rock, and despite intra-authorial repetitiveness and the increasingly rare inter-authorial ability to provide a unique new take on the genre, I’ve never not enjoyed myself. Which, lest you take me the wrong way, applies here too. It’s just getting harder to enjoy myself in this particular case when it feels less like travelogue fantasy and more like authorial insertion in order to decry the evils of fundamentalist Christianity and the Hindi caste system. Still, it’s not entirely bad by any means, and none of the bad parts were screed-like; the anvils were just a little too heavy as they landed upon my head, is all. Still, I think Moirin may go to America in the next book, and maybe that will be pretty cool?

[1] I have admittedly not checked Opera or, um, the text-based one whose name I forget.
[2] Oh LOL-cat constructed speech, why must you be so awkward to adapt to conversational English?

Moon

2 Replies

Since I didn’t get Moon through Netflix, I really should have taken my opportunity to skip this review. I mean, it’s the kind of movie where knowing as little as possible is the best, and that makes it hard for me to mention the pure highlight that elevates it above other similarly-constructed movies that we’ve seen in the past, of which 2001 is certainly the most obvious. And yet, it’s a movie that I first heard about on Thursday, and managed to see on Sunday through no great expansion of effort, while gathering that basically every other person on the planet had not only heard of it but really liked it. (Well, almost everyone for that last point.) And so I feel obligated to say something about it, just because it was such a common thread of my weekend.

So, what happens is this: an energy corporation is strip-mining the dark side of the moon for a hydrogen isotope that can power over 75% of the world’s energy needs. (Or it might have been helium, but hydrogen makes a lot more sense, and really we’d have the same story if it had been unobtanon, so stop being so damn picky!) And they’ve got this moon base built that mostly runs itself, including the harvesters roaming around, and all that really needs doing is minor outdoor repair work and also the collection and launching of the hydrogen tubes once they’ve gotten full, for which they have hired Sam Bell for a three year tour of duty. The part where he’s alone except for GERTY, the helpful base computer/tethered robot, wouldn’t be too bad except that satellite links for live relay to earth are down, so he only gets communication with his bosses and family at about the rate of USPS letters. But he fills his time with old television[1] and craft-work and other such pursuits, and anyway, it’s only two more weeks until his tour ends and he gets to go home. Too bad he’s started to hallucinate. …or has he???

And anything after that, even the part I want to praise, even a discussion of theme beyond my willingness to say I think they did a good job there, would be way too much spoiler. So I’ll stop here and only recommend that if you’ve got a lazy Sunday afternoon and a craving for humanist sci-fi, this is a good place to go. (The movie, not the actual moon, which has been strip-mined something ugly, let me tell you.)

[1] If I wanted to pick a part of the movie that was kind of horrible, it’s that the two TV shows that made it on screen were Bewitched and The Mary Tyler Moore Show, both of which took me right out of the moment by triggering the realization that they picked their shows based on what would be cheap to get the rights to from TV Land or whoever owns them now, instead of what someone in a near-future setting would likely be interested in. I mean, geeze, at least Cheers or Cosby or Friends, guys!

Skyline (2010)

1 Reply

Sometimes, when a movie is universally panned, there’s a reason for it.

Skyline is another in a recent series of alien invasion stories that are told at the personal ground level, rather than with sweeping majesty like Independence Day was back when it re-opened the genre for public consumption. If you imagine War of the Worlds or Cloverfield, you are definitely on the right track. Aside from incidental plot and character arc divergences, these are all three (along with several others I could probably think of if I paused to do so) basically the same movie. So, what makes Skyline stand out? The first thing is the characters; every single one of these ranges between (at the high end) uninteresting and seedily unlikeable.[1] The second thing is the plot, which, after establishing that the Aliens are Here! and People are in Danger!, effectively goes nowhere at all for the rest of the movie, up to and including a conclusion that I can only presume was meant to by heart-warmingly thought-provoking, or perhaps vice versa. The third thing is… well, look, if you need a third thing, it’s because you are more forgiving of badness in movies than I am, and I’m pretty sure I’ve never met the person that fits this description.

[1] I should say that David Zayas, who I hope you will recognize as Angel Batista on Dexter, really wanted his character to be likable, but the script simply wouldn’t allow it.

Black Swan (2010)

An interesting thing about Black Swan is how many different potential movies are crammed into its actuality. For instance, there’s a not particularly compelling ballet movie in it, which is sad when you consider how much effort Natalie Portman told Terry Gross that she put into training for the physical aspects of the part. And then there’s a somewhat formulaic suspense thriller in which Portman vies with ballet company newcomer Mila Kunis for the dubious affections of the company’s French artistic director as well as the lead in the first show of the season, Swan Lake, while a tragically underutilized Winona Ryder looks on from the sidelines as the cast-aside prima ballerina from seasons past. And if you’re getting the impression so far that I found it okay at best, you’re right up to a point; I would have been pretty disappointed if I had been watching either of those two movies.

The movie that I was watching, which I more or less loved, was a psychological study of an obsessive mind pushed to the brink of utter collapse under a myriad of internal and external pressures. And I don’t want to say more than that, because it made for utterly compelling watching as each element unfolded. I’ve been on record in the past as approving of unreliable narrators in fiction. I think this is the first time I’ve seen one on film that wasn’t eye-rollingly bad; to the contrary, I hope Portman earns some awards over the next few months.

Shards of Delirium

Fragments of Delight