Ape-ril Ape-recap, with Ape-ricots!

Whew! I did it. I survived watching all the Planet of the Apes movies back to hairy back. It was a task I wouldn't recommend to anyone, really, but I did have a fair amount of fun with it. Still, I'm glad it's over. And no, there is no way I am going to watch either the TV series or the animated series.

So what did I gain from this experience? What did I learn? Not a whole lot, really. I learned that even bad sci-fi from the '70's can be better than the bad sci-fantasy we have these days. I learned that George Lucas did not invent the bad, nonsensical, series-ruining prequel.

I gained a lot of respect for Roddy McDowall as an actor. Yes, these are silly roles in cheesy movies, but he put real effort into each film he was in. Underneath all of that make-up, facial expressions were pretty much non-existent. So he improvised. He worked his nose to make the Ape-nose appear to be sniffing; exaggerated his eyebrow movement to get some action in the prosthetic forehead; blew out air to "puff out" the mouthpieces in anger. He clearly experimented with finding new ways to emote from behind that mask, and I really admired the work that took.

I also learned, just after beginning my marathon, that there is yet another Planet of the Apes movie coming out. I discovered this on my own by accident, but it was also brought to my attention by several friends through email and Facebook. It's called Rise of the Planet of the Apes and stars James Franco (!?). I admit, the trailer does look interesting. Clearly, it won't tie in to any of the "official" movies or timeline, but they did name the head Ape "Caesar," which is a nice touch.

Here's the link to the trailer, since when I embed video it doesn't normally follow when this post gets re-posted on Facebook: Apes Will Rise.

Planet of the Apes

Three-letter word review: Yes!
One sentence summary: Astronaut Taylor crashes on an alien world where Apes are dominant and men are barbaric, mute animals.
Strange '60's quote/reference: Taylor: "That's right, Lucius. Never trust anyone over 30."
Watchability: High. I would even rate this one a must-see. But if you're with kids or even adults who haven't seen it, do your best to hide the DVD case and the surprise ending.

Beneath the Planet of the Apes

Three-letter word review: Wow.
One sentence summary: Is it possible? Astronaut Brent searches for Taylor, crashes on an alien world where Apes are dominant, and finds him in an underground New York in the Forbidden Zone where telepathic mutant humans worship an atomic bomb.
Strange '70's quote/reference: Ursus: "The only good human... is a dead human."
Watchability: Strange. It's not really bad so much as it is a mess. There's a lot going on here, so for just plain craziness I would actually recommend it.

Escape from the Planet of the Apes

Three-letter word review: Hmm.
One sentence summary: Ape-ronauts (yes, they actually call them that in the film) Cornelus & Zira flee their planet in Taylor's crashed ship, only to crash themselves on Earth in the 1970's.
Strange '70's quote/reference: Dr. Zira: "A marriage bed is made for two. But every damn morning, it's the woman who has to make it. We have heads as well as hands. I call upon men to let us use them!"
Watchability: Medium. The first half is quite silly and strange, but it becomes rather dramatic by the end.

Conquest of the Planet of the Apes

Three-letter word review: Grr.
One sentence summary: Caesar, Ape-child of Cornelius & Zira, grows up in a world of Ape slavery and eventually leads a revolution.
Strange '70's quote/reference: Woman smoking cigarette: "Funny, now that I know these things won't kill me, I don't enjoy them."
Watchability: Low. The plot is very thin and the outcome pre-determined. Why bother?

Battle for the Planet of the Apes

Three-letter word review: Ugh.
One sentence summary: Ape leader Caesar leads a group of Apes and humans after a global apocalypse, only to be attacked by irradiated human holdouts.
Strange '70's quote/reference: I'm sure there was one, but I can't remember.
Watchability: Very low. Don't waste your time. Seriously.

Planet of the Apes (2001)

Three-letter word review: Boo!
One sentence summary: Astronaut Davidson crashes on an alien world where Apes are dominant and men are their barbaric-ish slaves.
Strange '60's quote/reference: Attar: "Take your stinking hands off me, you damn dirty human!"
Watchability: Unbearable.

Planet of the Apes (2001)

Boo!

I hated this movie when I was dragged to see it in the theater, and I really didn't want to revisit the experience. However, I am a bit of a completist, so here is Tim Burton's Planet of the Apes.

What kind of movie is this? Tim Burton claimed it was a "re-imagining," not a remake. That's good, I guess, since it gives us a little more distance from the original. Really, it's a testament to what happened to science fiction in the 30+ years between the two. It's more visual than cerebral, and it's more fighty than thinky. Basically, the original lamented the destruction and devolution of mankind, while the remake celebrated it.

We begin on a space station orbiting a planet with rings. Saturn, maybe? Not important. Look, pretty! The year is 2029 (which is pretty optimistic, even in 2001). Our hero, Leo Davidson, trains chimpanzees to fly spacecraft. Why they don't just use computers or remote pilots is never explained. Although they do claim that the monkey is sort of an early warning system, like a canary in a coal mine. So basically, they're spending a lot of money to train apes to fly expensive spacecraft on doomed missions into unknown phenomena. Okay. Hee hee! Look, a monkey in a spacesuit!

Conveniently, an unknown phenomenon appears not far from the station. And it's early enough in the movie that we don't have time to reflect on the nonsense we've heard so far. They send a chimpanzee to investigate the scary space storm, and he goes missing. Leo jumps into another craft and chases after him, and he goes missing as well. A few flashes of light, and suddenly Leo crash lands on some distant alien planet (which has between two and four moons, depending on when you look at it).

Almost immediately, he's swept up in the rush of humans fleeing Apes. These Apes are not hunting for sport, but rather capturing slaves. And the humans are not mute; they speak rather well, actually, especially considering their preference for loincloths. But no time to think about that now; look at the cool Ape make-up!

Leo is captured. Leo befriends Ari, an Ape who supports human rights. Leo escapes, brings some human and Ape friends. He's chased by the bad guys: Thade, the military leader Ape who hates humans and seems to have a secret, and Attar, the military second-in-command who hates humans and doesn't have a secret.

Leo makes it back to his crashed spaceship and retrieves a homing signal and a handgun, two things no space traveler should ever be without. The homing signal tells him that his space station has come to find him, so he's just got to follow the signal to reach it. Of course, it's in the Forbidden Zone, and Attar has an army blocking the way.

They make it past the army and discover the space station: crashed! And old! And isn't it weird how it has decayed to look like the spikes on the crown of the Statue of Liberty? Yep, it turns out that all of these Apes are descended from the monkeys he used to train on the station, which somehow crashed on this same planet thousands of years before. What a drag. But hey, at least the power still works. Science! It's fun!

There's a fight or something. Attar's Ape army attacks, adamantly. Apes and humans fight and die. Suddenly, a space craft appears. It's the chimpanzee Leo chased after at the beginning! This plus the crashed space station is a revelation to all except Thade, who knew it all along. Attar doesn't like that, so they fight and he kills him. Humans and Apes will play nice together now! "Welp," says Leo, "My work here is done. Time to be headin' home." He hops into the newly arrived spaceship and does just that. Science! It's convenient!

Just one quick hop into the scary space storm, and Leo is heading to good ole' Earth. He makes radio contact, but is forced to crash land on the Washington Mall. He exits his little pod on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial as police arrive. He climbs the steps, looks up, and... OMIGOSH! It's not Lincoln! It's Thade! He turns around to see all the police are also Apes, pointing their guns at him. Roll credits. What a twist!

Of course, that twist is completely out of line with everything that happened in the movie. It's as if at the end of Titanic the deep sea divers discovered that the iceberg was actually artificial and piloted by cyborgs. But who cares? Gotcha!

This was just awful on so many levels, I don't even want to talk/write about it. It had boring and predictable allusions to the first film, but more for camp than out of respect. Actually, it had little references to pretty much all of the first five films, but none of them are worth calling attention to here. The Ape make-up was good, I'll give it that. Well, except for Helena Bonham-Carter. She looked like a cross between Michael Jackson and a gelfling. Why don't I just end this with that disturbing image.

Battle for the Planet of the Apes

Ugh.

When we left our Ape friends in Conquest, they had just revolted against their human masters. Caesar was the leader of this new race of Apes, and the course of the future seemed set. But again, to unnecessarily fill in that gap, Hollywood brought us Battle for the Planet of the Apes.

The movie is book-ended with scenes of John Huston (!?) as the Lawgiver, the prophet of the Apes (now *that* would be a great movie title), teaching children their past. The opening title tells us it is "North America, 2970," which is approximately 1,000 years since Cornelius & Zira came to Earth. This scene is very brief, and just leads us into the tale of Caesar and the Apes after the revolution.

We're not given the exact date, but based on the age of Caesar's son, Cornelius, I would guess it is anywhere from 10 to 15 years since the revolution. The Apes live in a primitive village of treehouses away from the cities, which were apparently destroyed by humans in a nuclear war. They kind of gloss over the details, but the city is now a twisted heap of metal, and human civilization is close to non-existent.

Caesar's goal is for Apes and humans to co-exist peacefully. Unfortunately, a new general, Aldo, doesn't share that dream. They both seem to have no problem enslaving humans, however.

Caesar leads an expedition into the devastated city to access the archives. He wants to view recordings of his parents, so he can finally get to know them. While there, they attract the attention of the few remaining humans still living in the underground of the city. They are irradiated badly, and I assume they are the progenitors of the mutants we see in Beneath.

The city humans decide to attack the country Apes, and while Caesar was gone General Aldo convinced the country Apes to attack all humans. Caesar's son overhears Aldo's plot to take over and is attacked. Eventually he dies, and Caesar takes out his rage first on the attacking humans, and then on the Ape responsible.

The "battle" scene is pretty awful. It lasts for about 30 minutes, but this is no epic war production. Seriously, it looked like a bunch of LARPers out in a park on a Saturday afternoon. I had that exact thought while watching it, and then I later learned in the trivia on IMDb that indeed, that location became Malibu State Park.

Eventually, the Apes win. Ceasar causes the death of Aldo, and all is right with the world. We return to the Lawgiver finishing his lecture. As the camera pans to his audience, we see it is comprised of both Apes and humans, living in harmony. We continue the pan to a statue of Caesar. With a close-up on his stone face, we see a single tear form, then roll credits with funky music. No dramatic fade to black with eerie sound effects fading to silence for this film.

This chapter was a complete waste of time and my least favorite of the series. It had a weak premise going in, just because it was a story that didn't need to be told. In addition, the script was lame, there were almost no interesting ideas, and it just ended up being very bland.

I will give them some credit for the ending and the double-meaning of the title, similar to Escape. The obvious reference is to the physical battle between the Apes and the city under-dwelling humans to see who will rule the state park world. But the other reference is to Caesar's desire to change the future, so that Ape and man can live in peace.

It's a theme that is brought up in several of the sequels: can we change the future? The coda at the end of the movie suggests that Caesar was successful, and that humans and Apes are co-existing with neither in a position of power. This is significant because it means that the Apes saga managed to dodge what would otherwise be a giant, five movie, time paradox causality loop.

-Taylor leaves Earth, goes to future, finds Apearth.
-Taylor discovers atomic bomb, destroys Apearth.
-Cornelius & Zira escape Apearth, go to past.
-In the past, Cornelius & Zira have Milo/Caesar.
-Caesar grows up, leads Ape revolution.
And right here, we could go straight into the original film. It would all fit, yet somehow the future Apes have caused their own existence through Caesar. Instead, Battle steps in and alters that future, so that Caesar actually prevents it from coming to pass.

In both Escape and Battle, different characters talk about the nature of time, using the same metaphor. They describe time as a wide highway with many lanes. Even though the highway is all going the same direction, each lane leads to a different destination. The question posed is: is it possible to change lanes? It's kind of a weird metaphor, but I will give the writers credit for sticking to it for the last three films.

Technically, I should be done with my Ape-ril Madness Marathon, but I decided to go ahead and watch Tim Burton's remake. So, one more review to go before my series recap.

Conquest of the Planet of the Apes

Grr.

The end of Escape from PotA was the kind of great ending that can never be left alone. It was an open ending, with the child of Cornelius & Zira living in secrecy, but we the audience could use our imaginations to fill in the gaps from that innocent child to the planet of Apes that Taylor arrives on. Of course, there's nothing Hollywood hates more than for an audience to use its imagination, and so we have Conquest of the Planet of the Apes.

The movie starts by jumping right in. There's no opening sequence, unlike the other films (I've since learned it was edited out to receive a lesser rating), we just start with Apes. There's a title card telling us "North America, 1991" and then the credits roll.

In this "future" 1991, Apes are domesticated pets. Well, actually, they're slaves. They started out as pets in 1983 when a terrible virus wiped out all cats and dogs. People needed companions, so they turned to apes. As they became more domesticated (and perhaps as a side-effect of surviving the virus), they grew in size and intelligence until they resemble what the audience recognizes as capital-A Apes. Except they still can't talk.

During these opening credits, we see hundreds of Apes being herded, trained, and domesticated. Some are already serving as assistants, janitors, and waiters. It's pretty intense. Amusingly, they even have human protesters who protest not the enslavement of apes, but the loss of their waitstaff and janitorial jobs.

Fortunately, the masks are much better looking than the ones seen in Beneath, though the really good make-up is saved for the characters with close-ups. They organize the Apes by species into colored uniforms: red for gorilla, yellow for orangutan, and green for chimpanzee. That's a nice little touch that ties it into the future classes and colorings of the original film.

Another thing about the future: everyone wears black and the architecture is smooth, angular concrete without any ornamentation. This is just and FYI, in case you need to blend in, in the year 1991.

After we're shown what the world has become, we're re-introduced to our heroes. Armando (Ricardo Montalban!) the circus owner tours the city with Milo, who is all grown up (and played by Roddy McDowell- Cornelius from the previous films). Only now his name is Caesar, not Milo. I guess it sounded better. There's a scene where he gets to pick his name out of a dictionary, so I thought maybe he chose to change it. But no, Armando clearly calls him Caesar in the early scenes. Oh well. Continuity has never been a high priority for these films.

Caesar is the only Ape who can talk, of course, so he must hide. Armando is captured by the bad guy of the film, Governor Breck. Breck seems to be evil just to be evil. He immediately suspects Armando of having a talking Ape, and tortures him to find it. His motivation isn't as clear as Hasslein's from the previous film. He talks about how he fears an Ape uprising, but it seems to me that would be inevitable. The way he treats Apes, they don't need Caesar to be angry.

Meanwhile, Caesar hides among the incoming Ape shipment, and so we get a thorough education of how badly Apes are treated. Slavery is cruel and evil. Got it.

Eventually, Caesar starts to organize the Apes, although this is never really explained. He goes to various places, hides in the shadows, then gives a fellow Ape "the look." Somehow, they all know what that means. They steal cutlery from the kitchen, steak knives when polishing, butane torches when welding beams. Eventually, they feel the time is right to riot.

The riot scenes are pretty frightening. At night, hundreds of angry Apes in red jumpsuits do not exactly put one at ease. The military is called, but there are just too many of them. They swarm the squads, take the base, and capture the governor. Caesar gives a rousing speech about how the humans will pay for the debasement of the Apes. He claims that Apes can communicate over vast distances, and that tomorrow this riotous scene will be duplicated around the world. Standing tall, leading his fellow Apes against a backdrop of burning buildings against the night sky, Caesar gives the order to destroy Governor Breck, and the gorillas use their guns to beat him to death. The end. Fade to black.

Or not. That ending seemed too pessimistic, and might have also given it a more restrictive rating, so they tacked on a few more minutes. At the very moment I describe above where it should have ended, a female chimpanzee struggles to utter the word, "No." Caesar hears it and changes his mind. He appends his speech with an extra paragraph about how instead, the Apes will be more "humane" than the humans. Rather than shoot new footage, they use close-ups of his eyes, and roll the film backwards to show the gorillas withdrawing their rifle butts. All the Apes still go crazy, the buildings still burn in the night, and the fade to black is accompanied by their screams as the credits roll until they fade to silence.

The one, three-letter word I've been using to start all these reviews is very appropriate here. Not only is this the most angry and aggressive of the Ape movies I've seen so far, but that's exactly how I feel about the edits. I realize that most people don't take the Ape movies seriously, but it would be nice if the filmmakers did. This movie is pretty one-note, talking about the horrors of slavery. Why soften it? The Apes are abused and oppressed, but when they get their just revolution, their violence is restricted. That double-standard bothered me.

I thought the movie was okay, but it didn't try to be very much. As I said at the beginning, it's just filling in the gaps our imaginations had already filled. There were no twists or reversals or reveals. Everything went along pretty much as we knew it would, so therefore it wasn't very surprising. But that doesn't necessarily mean it wasn't entertaining. It could have been much better if it had stuck to its ideals and been horrific not just for the slaves, but also the overturned masters.

Escape from the Planet of the Apes

Hmm.

After the last movie ended with everyone being wiped out by a nuclear bomb, I wasn't sure how they could make a sequel. After having seen it, I'm not even sure if it is. In many ways, Escape from the Planet of the Apes is actually a prequel.

The movie begins with a spaceship crashed in the ocean. For a minute you think, "Oh great. They sent yet another rescue mission." But as the helicopters circle and the military arrives on the beach, you see that they are all human. They are surprised to see the ship, but not alarmed, as they assume it is one of the two they sent up. After it is pulled to shore and the astronauts removed, they open their helmets to reveal-- Apes! Roll title and opening credits.

I kinda liked this opening for a number of reasons. It got the big reveal/reversal out of the way immediately instead of dragging it out; it gave the apes a chance to see their world from a different view; and most importantly, it drastically reduced the budget since they only had to bother with three ape costumes. I always appreciate creative ways to stay in budget (if done well).

Now, the science that got them there, well, that's some really bogus creative screenwriting. Apparently, coinciding with the events of the second movie, the Apes recovered Taylor's sunken ship, repaired it, and flew it into orbit. While up there, they witnessed the atomic blast which destroyed the Apearth, and somehow sent them back in time. There are just so many things wrong with that story, not least being the fact that the Apes in both previous movies were at a pre-industrial technology level. But, if I learned anything from the last movie, it was that you have to let go of the science to enjoy the movie.

But I do want to put in a note about the chronology, which is also totally messed up. In PotA, Taylor's ship was launched in 1979 (10 years in the future from when the film was made). He crashed on Apearth 2,000 years in the future. However, when the Apes go back, they land in 1973 (approximately current to when the film was made). So technically, they arrived before Taylor left. However, everyone in the film acts as if Taylor left several years before. I admit this is a minor nit to pick, but it bothered me. Most likely it was a budgetary decision-- they couldn't afford to dress up L.A. to look like it was 10 years in the future.

Anyway, back to the story. The three apes are our old friends Cornelius and Zira, plus Milo who dies rather quickly. For a while they hide their ability to speak, which provides some cute reversals of their treatment of Taylor in PotA. Thankfully, this doesn't last too long, and our heroes befriend their scientist captors. Here's where the movie gets weird.

There's a scene where the Apes are put before a tribunal of some sort. I don't really know why. No one seems astounded by the fact that these are Apes from space, or Apes from the future; they're just stuck on them being talking apes. Maybe the writers had aspirations for drama or philosophy here, but they abandoned them. The Apes get in some good one-liners, and suddenly the movie turns into a wacky, fish-out-of-water story.

The Apes become minor celebrities. They're put up in a fancy hotel and taken shopping while groovy music plays. Cornelius gets a tailored suit while Zira has models fashion outfits for her. Zira even goes to some sort of Women's Lib meeting! Ah, the '70's.

Inevitably, things turn sour. Dr. Hasslein, an excessively distrustful scientist, discovers that they are from our future. He comes to the conclusion that by coming back to the past, they are the ones who create the future, and therefore must be sterilized before they can breed. Tragically, Zira is already pregnant. Suddenly, the movie turns rather dark.

The last 30 minutes of the movie are surprisingly good and suspenseful. Our Ape heroes must flee Hasslein and the evil government men. With the aid of the good scientists, they make friends with a circus owner, Armando (Ricardo Montalban!). Zira gives birth to her baby, very near to a circus chimpanzee who has also recently given birth.

The Ape-hunt is relentless, however, and they must flee this temporary sanctuary. They hide out in an abandoned shipyard (cheap location shooting, I guess) until cornered by the bad guys. Hasslein finds Zira and shoots her in the back. She drops her baby, which he then shoots repeatedly. Cornelius shoots and kills him, but not before he is also shot and takes a bad fall. Zira throws her own dead baby into the water before collapsing beside Cornelius. A helicopter shot pulls away, Cornelius and Zira huddling, prone and bleeding, Hasslein and baby floating face-down in the water. The end?

No. We switch to a scene of Armando's circus being broken down in order to move on to the next town. We see the mother chimpanzee holding her baby, only (you guessed it) it is actually Zira's baby, Milo. The camera zooms in on the baby as it looks up to his mother and says, "Mama, Mama" over and over. Fade to black, roll credits.

A pretty intense ending, especially for a movie that seemed light-hearted for most of it. Something I should compliment all of the Apes movie on (so far) is the dramatic ending, and I don't mean the shocking reversal. In PotA, after Taylor finds the Stature of Liberty, the screen fades to black but the sound of the surf goes on. No music, just sound during the credits. In Beneath PotA, after Taylor sets off the bomb, the screen goes white. No sound, just credits. Here, it's the same effect: the haunting repetition of "Mama" over a black screen, then fading to silence as the credits roll. Good stuff.

I also like the title of this movie. Going in, I thought maybe a third crew of astronauts found their way to Apearth and the movie would be about them getting away. Instead, it appears to be about the Apes' escape from their doomed planet, which actually happens before the movie even starts. But really, the title refers to Hasslein, the mean scientist. He does everything in his power to try to prevent Apearth from ever happening. There's even a philosophical discussion he has with the President of the United States about this very thing. Sure, we would want to kill Hitler, but would you be able to kill Hitler as a baby? Would you kill his mother before he was born? (Terminator, anyone?) From that perspective, you can understand why Hasslein sees himself as a hero, not a villain.

One more quick aside, I really was impressed by this movie's portrayal of the president as a calm, rational human being. So often in movies of this period (and beyond), the president is over the top gung-ho about something, usually war or patriotism. Here, he's one of the most reasonable people in the film.

Halfway into this film, I was dreading watching the next two. By the end, I could hardly wait.

Beneath the Planet of the Apes

Wow.

I complimented the first Apes movie for being full of ideas that could make for interesting conversation afterward. Beneath the Planet of the Apes is also crammed with ideas, but nearly all of them make you say, "What?" Seriously, this whole movie is a steaming pile of WTF.

Even though I maligned the world and studios for making the ending of the first movie known to all, from here on out expect spoilers in my comments about the sequels. Partly, that's because the biggest cat is already out of the bag, but also it's because I'm watching these movies so you don't have to.

The movie begins with a shortened edit of the final minutes of the previous film. Just in case anyone forgot how that one ended, I suppose. After following Taylor and Nova into the wastes very briefly, we're taken to yet another crashed spaceship, and introduced to the real protagonist-- Brent. He's played by James Franciscus, and seems to have been cast mainly because he looks a lot like Charlton Heston.

Of course, right off the bat this doesn't make any sense. He claims that he followed the previous ship's trajectory and was on a rescue mission. But that's just crazy. At the beginning of PotA1, Taylor was recording his last message and saying knew it didn't matter since they were already 700 years in the future. That was kind of the point of the mission. Already we're off to a bad start.

Brent meets Nova, and we get some flashback scenes of Taylor encountering mysterious things in the Forbidden Zone, before disappearing. So, Brent and Nova have to go back to Ape City to get help from Zira and try to find Taylor. I mention this part of the plot not because it's important, but because it's so ridiculous. The script works so hard to incorporate Brent into this world. Why not just skip all of that and have Franciscus take over the role as Taylor? They wasted the first third of the movie reestablishing things we already know.

Anyway, there's a new ape in town; his name is Ursus. He's a militant gorilla leader, and he's decided that they need to invade the Forbidden Zone before this unknown enemy invades them. This could have been interesting if it had been done with any subtlety like the first movie.

This is probably as good a time as any to talk about the budget, or lack thereof. In the crowd scenes of apes, many (if not most) are wearing obviously cheap rubber ape masks. It's pretty distracting. The main ape character still have the full make-up, at least. But then we get a sauna scene between Ursus and Dr. Zaius. Really? Seeing an ape in strange clothing riding a horse or wielding a gun can be pretty disturbing. Seeing two guys in ape suits taking a steam bath is laughable.

I read two interesting facts about the budget for Beneath: first, it was cut in half midway into the production, and second, because of it's tiny budget, this is actually the most profitable of the ape movies. Shocking.

It bothers me to think about how much different the movie could have been if they had taken a different attitude. As much as I liked seeing Heston again, it's really just a glorified cameo. Why not just replace him? That would free up a lot of cash, and also allow you to jump right into the story. Oh yeah, the story. Let me get back to that.

So, Brent and Nova find an underground cave that links up to the old New York subway system. In huge underground caverns they find the remains of many of the famed NY landmarks: the library, the stock exchange, Radio City Music Hall, and the Rockefeller Center, apparently all within about a block of each other. Convenient.

They find a sophisticated group of humans living underground. At first, they don't talk either, but instead communicate telepathically. After a while, they consent to speak, mainly so the audience can better follow the conversations. Their mental powers give them the power to create illusions, which they use to scare the apes out of the Forbidden Zone. However, this time it doesn't work and now they're worried. They hang out in a big church and worship the "Bringer of Peace," which turns out to be a giant nuclear bomb with the Greek letters Alpha and Omega written on the wing. Get it? And as if that isn't shocking enough, they then "show their true faces" by removing their masks. It turns out, all the humans are just irradiated mutants wearing human masks. I'll give them credit for an interesting twist on the whole ape mask thing.

Anyway, they're holding Taylor, so Brent and Nova get put in jail with him. Then they use their mental powers to make them fight. After a Kirk-esque fight between two people who look alike, it backfires and they're able to kill the mentalist. They make it to the church just as the apes invade. Firefights and fistfights ensue. The head priest starts to set off the bomb, but dies. Nova dies. Taylor gets shot. Brent kills a bunch of apes, then dies. Finally, Taylor struggles to the console and with his last breath, sets off the bomb. The end. Roll credits.

Overall, it felt like a bad Star Trek episode. There are some interesting ideas in there, but even they are rhinestones, not diamonds, in a very large pile of rough. I liked the vision the mental mutants used to deter the apes: a huge statue of their god, "the Lawgiver," bleeds from the eyes and mouth while surrounded by fire and apes crucified upside down. I like that it was Dr. Zaius, the ape of faith, who doesn't believe it and charges through. I thought there was great wasted potential in the idea that humans weren't mute, but had become telepathic. I did love the irony of Taylor being the one to "damn them to hell" the same way his own race damned themselves.

I will admit to being surprised by the ending. All three main characters die, then the whole place is obliterated by a nuclear bomb! How in the world did they make a sequel to that!? Unfortunately, I won't find out until next week.

Planet of the Apes

Yes!

So I'm a bit behind schedule, but I did get to watch Planet of the Apes yesterday, the beginning of my Ape-ril Madness Marathon. I'm not going to do a full review or analysis here, since that's been done by many, and often better than me. I did really like it, though.

There's something great about '60's and '70's science fiction. In the days before Star Wars made science fantasy king, sci-fi was about ideas. There was a fantastic Filmspotting marathon that included such movies as Soylent Green, Silent Running, and Logan's Run. I love The Forbin Project and The Omega Man as well, not to mention the monumental 2001: A Space Odyssey. What made all of these movies so fascinating was the way they were about something. What if? What if we run out of food? What if we eliminated old people? What if a computer ran the world? You finish watching any of these movies and you have a lot more to talk about than, "Man, wasn't that explosion cool?"

So, what is Planet of the Apes about? Sure, everybody knows that it's about apes running the world in a crazy, upside-down future world. (As an aside, it really pisses me off that they print the spoiler ending of the movie on the box cover. Yes, yes, everyone knows it's Earth. But can't you, for once, pretend? Let people discover it fresh!) But there's so much more to it than that. Throughout the movie there are parallels to so many philosophical conflicts. The ethical treatment of animals, zoos, prejudice, class struggle, science vs. religion, evolution, the nature of intelligence, and the typical '60's favorites, anti-establishment and young vs. old. Some of it is overt, some of it is subtle; best of all, there aren't really answers-- it just is. That's just great fodder for conversation.

I also really liked the pacing-- very slow. It's 30 minutes into the film before you see the first ape (the big reveal/reversal). It's 30 minutes after that when Taylor finally gets his voice back and shouts that famous line (another reversal, this time for the apes). I loved the sets and costumes, and especially the little touches. The apes' shoes have little thumb-pockets on the side. This is barely even noticeable on screen, but it's there. Fantastic.

Another thing I liked, and this is touched on in the article I linked to before, is that they speak and write English. I like it because it takes a standard sci-fi trope that we all accept without thinking (that we can communicate with other species), and turns it into a plot point. We, as the audience, just accept that they're communicating because that's how it is in a sci-fi movie. But when we discover it's Earth, it suddenly makes that a huge clue that was staring us in the face the whole time. I'm probably not describing that very well, but oh well.

I don't see how they could make a sequel to this, let alone four. I know nothing about the rest of them, but I'm pretty sure Mr. Heston doesn't return. Does that mean that his character doesn't either? I don't know, but I'm eager to find out! I'm about to pop in the next one right now.

Oh, and one last thing, just because I love it:

Ape-ril Madness

Sometimes, things just synchronize in weird ways.

When I first joined Netflix, I was overwhelmed and overjoyed. Of course I put a bunch of unseen recent movies in my queue, but I also lined up a large number of classics I had never seen. There are tons of great documentaries on there, and it's also a great way to catch up on a TV series that you might have missed. Needless to say, my queue became huge pretty quickly.

One of the oddball ideas I had when first adding movies was, "Hey, I should do a marathon of every Planet of the Apes movie." So, with a few quick flicks, there it was.

I manage my queue pretty well, bumping up things that interest me and pushing back others that I'm just not in the mood for. I was very excited when I finally got the list under 100 titles, as if that was a major accomplishment, but it didn't last for very long. So, often when I saw that big block of ape movies coming up, I would find some other masterpiece to take precedence.

Sure enough, just the other day I was checking to see what was coming up, and Planet of the Apes is at the top of the queue. But here's the coincidence: that same day, my friend Paul sent me a link to this article, which talks about how great (and under-appreciated) the original movie is.

I'd like to say that I was immediately inspired to start my marathon, but honestly it took me a while to even read the article. It sat in my inbox for quite a while, taunting me. Finally, I did, and yes, it did get me excited. So, starting next week, I'm going to try to do a movie and post each day. Next week is Ape Week!

I loved the original movie when I was a kid, but I don't think I've seen it fully since then. I have only vague semi-memories of the other films as they appeared on Saturday afternoon television. I really have no idea what to expect from them.

I Need a New Word

Is there a word for things that are so bad, they're good? How about "Awfsome" or "Terriffible."

My wife has a ritual called "Bad Movie Sunday." This is where she flips through the local channels and finds some mind-numbingly bad movie and watches it. I think you can imagine the kind of drek that is available. Think Weekend at Bernie's or Little Nicky. Being the sophisticated cinephile that I am, this is a habit I've just never understood. Or so I thought.

I had forgotten about my love for disaster movies! Even their premises are horrible! Anyway, I picked up 2012 the other day knowing full well it would be painful to watch. Boy, was I rewarded! This one is a classic!

I have very fond memories of my youth watching cinematic masterpieces like The Poseidon Adventure, Earthquake, and The Towering Inferno. Something crazy always happens, and you never know who is going to survive to the end of the movie.

Unfortunately, modern disaster movies just don't have the same flair. Although I rank Volcano and The Day After Tomorrow pretty damn high on the So-bad-it's-good Meter, but most of the others are just plain bad. All the computer effects just don't have the same impact as a real set of an upside down cruise ship.

Anyway, back to 2012. It does a pretty good job of recapturing that classic '70's badness. Sure, it's got the crazy computer special effects, but what can you do. It also has completely ridiculous plot points and dialog, crazy cameos, over the top sentiment, and at least some suspense regarding who lives or dies.

The biggest problem with modern disaster movies is that they aim too high. Back in the day, they were satisfied to destroy a skyscraper, an airplane, or even a city. These days, they feel like they have to outdo all of that by destroying cities during the opening credits. Of course they have to destroy famous landmarks (a trait shared with monster movies of the '50's), but the number increases every time. 2012 basically destroyed the whole world! Where can they go from that?

Is 2012 a good movie? Not by a long shot. Was I entertained? Immensely! Would I recommend it? Only if you have the right attitude. With a big bucket of popcorn, some beer, and a lazy, rainy afternoon, it's a perfect combo.

A Couple More Thoughts

Just a quick note, since I forgot something I wanted to mention about The Invasion from my previous post. The most heinous part of the most recent version was the coda. Yes, she gets her miracle boy to the helicopter, and his blood helps them find a cure. The last scene takes place some time in the future (weeks or months, it's not specific) as they all sit around the breakfast table congratulating themselves on still being alive.

I hate this ending for a couple of reasons. First, it could not feel more Hollywood-tacked-on. The first remake to actually have a happy ending. I guess that's the aughties for you. But the other thing is the unanswered questions it leaves. If all the "body-snatched" people were just suffering from a disease (which was cured), doesn't that make a lot of people murderers? Our heroine killed dozens in the frantic car chase alone.

"Miss Bennell, were you aware at the time that slamming your car into a crowd of people would likely kill many of them?"
"Yes, your honor, but it was self-defense."
"Self-defense? Were they threatening you with bodily harm?"
"No, your honor, but..."
"Were they carrying weapons with the intent to kill you?"
"Not exactly, but..."
"And if they had caught you, the worst that would've happened was that you would go to sleep and wake up with a detached and calmer outlook on life? Is that correct?"
"Well, yeah, but they wanted my boy."

Now that would have been an interesting courtroom drama.

On a completely different note, I absolutely have to share this link. My friend Dale sent it to me yesterday, and it's just wonderful. I've long been a fan of the movie Joe vs. the Volcano. In fact, it is the source of the name of my blog. I know it isn't a great movie, but still I love it beyond rationality. Here, the writer posts a beautiful defense of the movie, and even goes to say it is Tom Hanks' best performance. Check it out: The Best Role: Tom Hanks.

Invasion of the Mind Snatchers

Well, I did it. I finally finished my marathon viewing of all movie iterations of "Invasion of the Body Snatchers."

Actually, I did most of this a couple of years ago. I put them on my Netflix queue when The Invasion first came out. I thought I'd be through them just in time for its DVD release. Then I heard how bad the most recent version was, so I just stopped after the first three. Well, my friend Dale said that didn't count. I had to watch them all. Ugh. So I reluctantly queued it up again and sat myself down for some pain. At first, it wasn't that bad, but then... well, I'll save that for the end of this post. Even though it is definitely the freshest in my mind, I think it's probably important to go through these chronologically.

By the way, if you've never seen any of these movies (or haven't figured out the plots just from their titles), here is my obligatory spoiler warning.

Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1956)
The original. The classic? I'm not sure. I definitely liked it, but it's still a cheesy B-movie. The whole story is told in flashback (which is easy to forget during the movie). Our narrator first appears to be a crazed maniac, but we quickly see that he wasn't always that way. Alien plants landed in his small home town and slowly started replacing people with mindless duplicates. Although mindless isn't exactly the right word. They still talk and act, but they've been completely brainwashed and act like they've just taken a big dose of Valium.

The beauty of this film is almost all tied into the setting into which is was released. Fear and paranoia were starting to erode the post-WWII elation. Fear of communism, McCarthyism, and witch hunts; fear of atomic weapons, bomb shelters, and "Duck and Cover." This film plays right into all of that. Could you tell if your neighbor was a pod person? Could you tell if he were a Commie? Fear of the unknown-- is it safe to explore space? Fear of the outsider-- why isn't Bob acting like all the rest of us?

The key, of course, is not to fall asleep. They can only duplicate you when you sleep, so just stay awake. What a fantastic device! Not only is a great metaphor for complacency vs. vigilance, it also leads to the natural mind games brought on by sleep deprivation. Did that really happen, or does he just thinks it happened because he hasn't slept in five days?

I'll give this one five stars. Probably it only deserves three, but I'll bump it up a couple for its period, campiness, and originality.

Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1978)
This is the first remake with Donald Sutherland. It actually manages to have a fairly nice surprise at the end, which has since been ruined by an internet meme. The plot is still the same: alien plants, mindless duplicates, don't fall asleep. But this time they spend a little more time focusing on the how of it.

I really love how this movie is also a reflection of the times in which is was released. Not only did it have more special effects (which was all the rage in Hollywood after Star Wars), but it also had an interesting view of science. Leonard Nimoy plays a hipster, book-promoting psychologist (I think?), and it's hard to tell if we're supposed to "grok" him or distrust him.

And that leads me to the weird part-- what's the fear? In the original, most see it as an allegory about communism, but couldn't it also be supporting individualism? Here, we're in the '70's, the Me Generation. They already threw down "the man" in the '60's, man, now it's time to boogie. One of the things I like about this one is that the characters all seem so arrogant, even in the face of an alien plague. Maybe the movie was trying to say that we're all just as doomed if we only look out for ourselves. Not a condemnation of individuality, necessarily, but of selfishness.

I give this one three stars. I'd recommend it, and it's definitely entertaining, but the dated-ness of the '70's isn't nearly as charming as the dated-ness of the '50's.

Body Snatchers (1993)
The lesser known remake. I'm having a bit of trouble remembering the details about this one, but I do remember I liked it. They took the original story and made many tweaks to it, making it feel completely new. Sure, there's still alien pods and duplicates, but the trappings are different.

First of all, instead of a middle aged man as a protagonist, we get a teenage girl. And rather than a small town or large city, she's stuck on a military base. This is especially interesting because the whole point of the military is to break down individuals and remake them into cohesive units. But also, being on a military base introduces something that was pretty absent in the previous two: weapons. This film has much more action and 'splosions than the other two.

But what was there to fear in the '90's? The obvious theme is increased militarism from the Reagan era, but I think that's secondary. Despite the more dramatic setting, I think this one is actually more personal. I think it deals best with the conflicting ideas of being an individual versus being an outsider. In the first film, they don't believe the narrator because he's acting like a loon. Here, they don't believe her because she's just a kid, something we can all partly identify with.

I'll give this one four stars. It's a good action movie, a good horror movie, and an overlooked film.

The Invasion (2007)
Ugh. Again, same plot. Like the first sequel, more time spent "explaining" the problem, more pointless special effects. Protagonist is a female looking out for her child. The film starts in medias res, just so we can flashback a few days and watch it lead to those same scenes (which are played again). I really, really hate this trope. I am so sick of movies and/or TV shows that show something, then have a title card with "Three days earlier" or whatever. It is a complete waste, and very poor storytelling. Okay, off soapbox, back to movie.

The interesting thing about this movie, and what made me think I was enjoying it part way through it, was the perceived target of the fear. Communism, then individualism, then militarism; in this one, I think they're attacking indifference. At the beginning of the movie, there are many shots of hundreds of people walking the streets of DC, completely oblivious to everyone around them. After the pods get a hold of them, they are much more quiet. They stand still. They pay attention. As in the other films, the heroes try to "pass" as converted. It's interesting what advice she is given here: "Don't show emotion," "Make direct eye contact." As the pods take over, the ones who can't fake it scream and plead for help, while everyone around them ignores them (whether they're pod-people or not). That's pretty scary, and pretty normal in our modern world.

But instead of being intellectually stimulating or offering more social commentary, this movie devolves into an action movie. You see, it's just a disease. Science can cure it. Her son is immune, so he can be used to save the world! We're finally treated to a high speed chase, in which Nicole Kidman's goal is literally to "GET HIM TO ZEE CHOPPAH!!!" So sad. I think this one really had some possibilities, and it just totally blew it.

One star. It's terrible. Don't be suckered into having your own marathon, this one really isn't worth it.

Well, I suppose if I were a professional blog writer, I would have done a lot more research, thorough analysis, and structured organization of my thoughts. Unfortunately for you, I didn't. I just kind of scrambled together my thoughts and put them out there. Maybe as I get more regular at this, I'll do a better a job at putting up more polished posts.

Why Iron Man 2 Doesn't Work

I liked the first Iron Man. I thought it was fun with simple good vs. evil and dazzling effects. I thought it was good, but not great. I had low expectations for the second film. I only hoped to be as entertained as I was the first time. Instead, I was actually quite disappointed. It was okay, but not good. Sure, the effects were again pretty amazing, and there were lots of 'splosions, but something about it was just wrong. Recently, I think I discovered why-- the screenplay doesn't match the directing.

I only listen to two podcasts about film: Filmspotting and Creative Screenwriting. I love them both for completely different reasons, but I highly recommend them. In FS episode #301, they talk about Iron Man 2. I won't bother to rehash everything they said (besides, it's far too entertaining to listen to it straight from the source), but in the end they were disappointed as well. They mentioned things like not caring about the characters and the dialog being too flippant.

Just this past week I was catching up with old CS podcasts, and I came across this quote from Jon Favreau (the director) at an Iron Man 2 round table discussion:

We looked at the successful film sequels that we liked ... The two that we liked the most... were Wrath of Khan and Empire Strikes Back. Those are the two that we said, "They did it right. Now let's look at what they did right."

Although he didn't say so, I have no doubt that Spider-Man 2 and The Dark Knight were also on their radar.

What do those films have in common? Aside from generally being the fan favorites of the series, they're also considered the most dark. That admission from Mr. Favreau is what made it all click for me in my head.

When the reviews for Iron Man came out, a lot of the positive buzz mentioned that it was "light" and "fun" (especially when compared to Dark Knight). It was a great way to start off the summer blockbuster season. But the interesting thing to me is that it actually contains several dark elements:

• Tony Stark kidnapped and tortured
• Multiple deaths and violence due to war
• An over-the-top evil father-figure who not only uses a neural paralysis device, but also attempts to kill Tony by ripping his heart out.

All of these are pretty serious. And they're handled seriously in the film. But surrounding those elements, we have Tony learning to fly, neat computer graphics, a cool suit, and generally good times. The audience doesn't dwell on the negatives, because there are more positives to uplift.

Now let's look at some of the dark themes in IM2:

• Government trying to confiscate the suit
• Dangerous alcoholism by Tony
• Tony's best friend Roady betrays him and steals an earlier suit in order to weaponize it.
• A mad Russian has not only duplicated the technology, but is also trying to kill Tony...
• ...because it turns out that Tony's dad (in addition to being John Slattery/Walt Disney) was a crook who cut out the Russian's father's participation in creating the device.

Those are some pretty dark and serious themes, and the list doesn't even include the rival arms manufacturer who commissions super robots that terrorize civilians at the public expo!

So, why doesn't it work? Because the serious elements of the story are brushed away, discussed flippantly, or just plain ignored. It is okay to have both dramatic and comedic elements in the same film. In fact, I would argue that the best films (of both types) almost always have a degree of both. The first Iron Man was able to pull it off. The problem here is that the director seemed to be addressing the dramatic themes with a light-hearted, comedic style. And that just doesn't work.

I'm not a big Favreau fan, but I believe he is a competent director. His decisions here really confuse me. When Whiplash is terrorizing the Monaco Gran Prix, literally slicing cars in half in his attempt to exact revenge on Tony, why did he interject the chauffeur (played by Favreau) speeding on the track with Pepper? Is it comic relief to see them dodging head on traffic? Are we supposed to be laughing when Tony gets smashed at his party and abuses the suit to entertain his guests? He contemplates the betrayal of his friend by hanging out in a giant donut? What is going on here?

I blame the director here because he sets the tone on the set. He tells the actors what sort of mood he is looking for. It is great for a movie to have ups and downs, an emotional roller coaster. But it is not good for it to do both at the same time, in which case you get a merry-go-round-- flat, uneventful, going nowhere with no surprises.

42 Up!

I'm a little behind on my posting this week, so I may actually try to do more than one post a day to make up for it. We'll see how I feel about it tonight.

Well, my birthday has come and gone. As always for me, birthdays are a time of reflection. You may have noticed that I've been posting to my blog more frequently than usual. That's not exactly a New Year's resolution, but I was motivated by something I read on my friend Mischa's blog (I can't find it right now, else I would link to it). He's participating in some blog-o-thon or something, where you must write on your blog x amount in so many days. It's based on the NaNoWriMo idea for writing a novel in 30 days. Anyway, for some reason, just seeing his post made me determined to up my contributions this year.

I'm not one for resolutions at the New Year. As a matter of fact, I hate New Year's; it's easily my least favorite holiday. However, I do go through almost the same ritual when it comes to my birthday. It seems more personal to do it then. I have a lot of things on my "to do" list this year, most of which probably wouldn't really count as resolutions anyway. But one of them is to blog more, and so far I'm not doing too badly. I should really do these early in the morning when my mind is fresh.

Anyway, this was my 42nd birthday, which seems pretty huge. Part of the problem with having a youthful outlook like I do is that I often forget how old I really am. Not that I mind, really, it's just interesting/sad.

I have heard a theory (I don't know the source), that everyone changes every seven years. The reason behind it is that is how long it takes all the cells of your body to regenerate. So, after seven years, you are literally a different person because all the old cells have died and been replaced with new ones. I don't know how much I buy that idea, but it certainly has proven interesting for me. Of course, it may just be coincidence that every seven years a person reaches a certain plateau or milestone-- school, life, awareness at seven, puberty at 14, drinking at 21, optimism and enthusiasm at 28, full-fledged maturity at 35, and now downhill at 42. That last one is a joke, folks. Had I married earlier, I could easily see my 40s as the age in which I embraced parenthood. I still look forward to that, but time is not exactly on our side.

There is a fantastic series of movies that fits right in with this notion. Documentary filmmaker Michael Apted follows a group of young children in Britain. The Up Series was originally meant as a study of how class affected the attitudes and aptitudes of British children born in the 60's. However, on his own, Apted has continued the project every seven years. He catches up with as many of the children as are willing to talk to him, and continues to document their lives. The most recent one was 49 Up.

I highly recommend this series to everyone. Don't be intimidated or think that you need to come in at the beginning. Each film is readily accessible. Yes, there are rewards from seeing all the films, but the order is not important and in fact, sometimes it can be fascinating watching an older film (35 Up, for example) when you already know what's in store for the characters.

So, here's hoping that the coming seven years (and more) prove as interesting as the last, and that I'm still here to report on life and everthing at 49.

Oh My Stars

What's in a rating? I use three different sites regularly that give me the opportunity to rate different things: Goodreads for books, Netflix for movies, and Boardgamegeek for games. I like rating things. The problem is that I always feel compelled to use the guidelines for these ratings, and that's where I have a problem.

Let's start with Goodreads. It's a great online community for book readers. It has a good interface, an extensive database, and a lot of active reviewers. I repost all of my reviews here on my blog. But when it comes to rating a book, their star system bothers me.

Here's the mouse-over text for each level of rating:

1. Didn't like it
2. It was ok
3. Liked it
4. Really liked it
5. It was amazing

First off, what if I absolutely hated the book? No option available. Secondly, there are three positive, one neutral, and only one negative option. In my mind, zero stars should be available for something you really hated. That wouldn't balance it out completely, but it would help. Also, how does one distinguish between a four- and a five-star book?

Here's Netflix:

1. Hated it
2. Didn't like it
3. Liked it
4. Really liked it
5. Loved it

This list is better because it offers two degrees of dislike. But the three star rating right in the middle is still positive rather than neutral. However, I like that the top rating is "loved it" rather than "amazing." Amazing just seems like a really high bar to meet, whereas "loved it" feels perfectly subjective.

Since neither of these offer "half stars," they're both scales of five. To me, ideally they should be two negative, one neutral, and one positive. But I can see how no one would see three stars as a neutral review.

But onto Boardgamegeek. Here, it's a scale of 10, using numbers instead of stars.

1. Defies description of a game. You won't catch me dead playing it. Clearly broken.
2. Extremely annoying game, won't play this ever again.
3. Likely won't play this game again although could be convinced. Bad.
4. Not so good, it doesn't get me but could be talked into it on occasion.
5. Average game. Slightly boring. Take it or leave it.
6. Ok game, some fun or challenge at least, will play sporadically if in the right mood.
7. Good game, usually willing to play.
8. Very good game. I like to play. Probably I will suggest it and will never turn down a game.
9. Excellent game. Always want to play it.
10. Outstanding. Always want to play and expect this will never change.

The main problem with all of these descriptions is the inclusions of absolute words like "always" and "never." How could anyone know what their tastes would be in a few years, or on a particular day?

In comparison with the other rating systems, this one is interesting because it seems to have three positives, three neutrals, and three negatives. That's pretty balanced, but the problem becomes choosing between similar pairs, like 3/4, 5/6, or 9/10. I have a friend who only uses even numbers to rate, thus reducing this to a scale of five. There are many others (myself included, I'm sad to say), who actually enter numbers like 7.5, turning this into a 20-point scale. I need to go through and fix all of those, though. No more fence sitting; if I like a game, I should say so!

Anyway, what was the point of this whole exercise? I'm not sure. I just find it interesting that something subjective like a rating has been given restrictive objective guidelines. This wouldn't be a problem at all if I could bring myself to just ignore the text and rate things how I want. Unfortunately, that would render my rating less meaningful for those who saw it and didn't know my personal scale. So I guess the lesson is: always read the actual review and not just the number of stars.

Watchmen!

Oscars Review

Because I am a huge fan of movies, here is my obligatory Oscar post.

When I was a kid, I loved to watch the Oscars. I really enjoyed the pageantry and glamor, and I thought that watching somehow connected me with Hollywood. As I got older, I watched them more to inform me about movies, actors, and directors. The last several years, this fascination with the Academy Awards has turned to interest, to indifference, until recently it has finally moved into complete disdain. These people work four months a year, doing a job they love, getting paid extravagant amounts of money, have adoring fans, and they expect us to watch as they pat each other on the back in fancy dress? Ugh. All that being said, of course I still watched the awards last night.

I have to say, I really enjoyed the format change. They somehow managed to blend a star-studded spectacle with a feeling of intimacy. The opening number was rather lame, but other than that I found Hugh Jackman a great and clearly talented host. I liked the decision to have a showman as a host rather than a comedian. As Mr. Jackman said in the Barbara Walters' special before the awards, "It's time to have more show, less biz."

The gimmick of having five past Oscar winners come out to announce the nominees was interesting. It was very cheesy, but for some reason it worked. And sometimes, the actors actually sounded sincere as they described the nominee. I vastly preferred it to the standard method of clips from the film.

As for predictions, I made them, but I didn't post them here or anywhere else. I generally have a pretty good track record, but I just find it annoying. It bothers me that so often the best predictors have nothing to do with the performance. For example, I correctly called Sean Penn for Best Actor, though I know many people thought it would be Mickey Rourke. The reasons have nothing to do with their skills as actors. Hollywood hates Mickey Rourke. The Academy was afraid of what he might say if he won. And despite all the movies to the contrary, Hollywood itself does not like underdog stories or comebacks. A studio's success depends on the cult of the new. Add to that the political guilt felt by the passing of Proposition 8, and Sean Penn playing a gay activist is a lock. And if anyone didn't pick Heath Ledger, they just weren't paying attention.

Without going through every category, here are some more thoughts:

• I was disappointed that Slumdog Millionaire came away with so many awards. It was a good film, but not that good. It didn't deserve a sweep.
  
• I was very pleased that Man on Wire won, as I feared Trouble the Water might slink in for political reasons.
• I didn't understand why Hugh Jackman made a big point of saying "the musical is back!" Because of Mamma Mia? Seriously? Where was he when Chicago won in 2003? Hairspray, The Producers, Dreamgirls... any of these ring a bell? I think the musical has been back for a while.
• The gowns were very elegant and nostalgic, which was nice. Penelope Cruz even had a vintage dress, which was beautiful.

Overall, it was a good show. It was full of pomp and circumstance as usual, but I found it less irritating this time around.

Snow vs. No Snow

Yesterday, it snowed. In Houston. In December. Is this another sign of the coming global apocalypse? I hope so. Of course, it's supposed to be in the 70's this weekend again. That's more like usual.

Even though I've lived in Houston the majority of my life, it still amazes me how freaked-out-excited everyone gets at the prospect of an eighth of an inch of snow. I guess it is pretty cool to get snow in this climate, but we must seem laughably quaint to people in the northern parts of the country.

But, like everyone else, I felt compelled to stand outside and watch it fall. I tried to get a few photos, but I don't think any of them turned out. Flower, our dog, completely freaked out. She's just now a year old, so this is her first real experience with cold weather, let alone snow. She was bouncing four feet in the air, doing somersaults, and darting in six directions at once at the speed of light. It was amusing to watch, but extremely frustrating to photograph.

In other news, I received the big TV yesterday. Woo hoo! Sadly, the reception is very weak with my current antenna. The interesting thing about digital broadcasts is that there's no snow. You can't get a weak, fuzzy digital signal; it's all or nothing. So even though the TV detected 40 channels, most of them only blink on for a fraction of a second. I'm hoping a new antenna I'm getting from a friend will rectify the situation.

Of course, I had to watch a movie on the new TV. Any guesses as to what it was? Believe it or not, I actually had trouble deciding which should be the first, but I guess it was inevitable that it would be Raiders. The really weird thing was, it was almost too clear. At first I had it set too bright, but even with the right settings it was just so crystal clear that it looked, well, fake.

One of the things filmmakers don't like about shooting on video, or even modern digital, was that the brightness and clarity just looked wrong. It's hard to describe, really, because film can look just as sharp, but there's clearly a difference. Anyway, with the new TV, a lot of Raiders started to look as though it had been shot on video. That was weird! The sets were too well lit and looked just like sets. Too much detail actually made it worse. There's something to be said for rough edges, items out of focus, and general murkiness in a movie.

I still have a long list of movies that I can't wait to watch on the big (home) screen. My TV isn't even that big, actually, but it's in such a small room it seems HUGE. It's great fun. I think the next one I'll watch will be either 2001 or one of The Lord of the Rings trilogy. I'm really looking forward to seeing Wall-E, but I think I have to wait for Santa to bring it to me.

Man on Wire

Several months ago I posted a video of a man (Philippe Petit) who in 1974 tightrope walked between the towers of the World Trade Center. Last night I was able to see a preview screening of Man on Wire, a new documentary about this same event.

The movie used extensive footage from the time, contemporary interviews with the players, and dramatic re-enactments using actors. It was all interwoven very well, and despite "knowing" the outcome, it managed to be filled with tension and suspense. But it also had moments of comedy and great awe.

It was quite incredible. Not only was the act itself amazing, they had a large amount of footage of Petit and crew as they made their preparations. Clearly, they realized at the time what a momentous undertaking they were attempting. The players involved were interesting people with unique perspectives and motivations, making it just as interesting to hear their stories.

It was truly a fantastic tale well told, and I highly recommend it.

Now that my brief review is done, I want to talk about something else in the movie that bothered me.

The spectre of the attacks of 9/11 will forever haunt the World Trade Center. I don't think it is possible for anyone alive at the time to not associate the Twin Towers with that tragedy. And I don't mean that as a bad thing, it just is.

I think the filmmakers for Man on Wire must have been aware of this, and their movie, in a way, is an attempt to glorify the towers, and to restore some of the awe and beauty that they once inspired. No mention is ever made of the attacks, since they have nothing to do with the story they are telling.

But what bothered me were several haunting juxtapositions that hinted at the tragedy without acknowledging it.

The first was the most jarring to me. The main character, Philippe, is talking about the danger of the stunt and the risk of death. He says, "Yes, I knew that I could die. But what better way to die is there? To die while you are pursuing that which you are most passionate about." While he is speaking, the visuals cut from him to a shot of an airliner. It hangs for a few seconds before turning to descend into an Australian airport. To me, that brought images of both the terrorists sacrificing themselves for their cause and the passengers who fought back on United 93.

Throughout the film, there was a very Indiana Jones-like map showing Philippe's travels to and from New York. But at the head of the red line, there was a computer model of an airliner. When it reached its destination, it seemed to nose-dive towards the map.

Lastly, there was a picture of Philippe as he was on the wire. It was a black and white shot taken from below, and above and behind him is another large airplane, seemingly aimed right at one of the towers.

Everything in film is intentional. The filmmakers had to be aware of the eeriness of these images, yet they chose to use them anyway. I found it unsettling. Am I overreacting? Perhaps. They could have kept Philippe's quote in the first example, but used a different cut scene. They didn't need an airplane at the head of the traveling line. They could have cropped the photo or used any number of others without the airplane.

But should they have?

I am not so sensitive that I think one shouldn't mention or allude to the attacks. As I said earlier, one can't help but think of the attacks in association with the towers. What bothered me about it was that they never directly mentioned it.

It wasn't enough that there was an elephant in the room that nobody talked about, but they also kept cracking peanuts and making elephant sounds while not acknowledging the large beast. To me, you can't have it both ways. They should either say something or say nothing. Without acknowledgment, the little hints seemed cheap and tacky.

Into the Wild x2

When I first read Into the Wild, by John Krakauer, I was fascinated by the story of Christopher McCandless. A young man who left everything behind to commune with nature, with tragic results.

However, I actually hated the book. Krakauer comes across as an ass when he inserts himself into the story and tries to equate his experiences with those of McCandless. And no matter how much the author lionizes him, McCandless was still very clearly an idiot. Idealistic, poetic, determined, but still an idiot. Anyone who would go into such dangerous wilderness as he did with so little preparation, well, the results are not very surprising.

But still, I was fascinated. Why? Because that easily could have been me. McCandless was born just eleven days after I was. I bet we read a lot of the same books, falling for the romanticism and shallow philosophy of Walden, On the Road, and Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. I often fantasized about abandoning everything and hopping on a train to who knows where. I wanted adventure, excitement, and most of all new experiences that couldn't be planned. Had I hopped one of those night trains that I longingly watched pass me by, I would most likely be just as dead as Chris. So I feel comfortable calling him an idiot, since I know I was one, too. I understand him.

All that being said, I expected to hate the movie as much or more than the book. A dreamy individualist going against all odds to follow his spirit to the end. Blecch. But in spite of myself, I actually liked it.

The acting is pretty mediocre, but Emile Hirsch does well as Chris McCandless. It also has the always wonderful Catherine Keener, the always conspicuous Vince Vaughn, and the increasingly wooden William Hurt. The directing by Sean Penn is uneven, but mostly effective. There are times when it seems as though he doesn't know how to tell his story. Of course the story glosses over the foolish decisions he made, even more than the book, but that was to be expected. In some ways, the ending of the movie makes it appear as though Chris didn't even try to avoid his fate.

The key for me came early on, and I'm not really sure what triggered it. As long as I looked at it as a fictional story trying to appear real, I liked it. Whenever I looked at it as a true story trying to have a narrative, I hated it. Yes, they beatified him. Yes, the ignored, omitted, and changed facts. But it was an interesting journey to watch.

For another story of an idealistic fool who tragically met his end in nature, I highly recommend the Werner Herzog's fantastic documentary Grizzly Man.

Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull

This won't be a review of Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull as much as just a discussion. As a huge fan of the character, I have a lot of thoughts on the subject (as evidenced by my previous post).

First, my nutshell review: I didn't like it. It's a pretty good action movie, but not a great Indiana Jones movie. I went in with very low expectations. It surpassed those. There were many things in the movie I liked, but just as many that I didn't. As I was watching it, I was enjoying it. Then as the movie wore on, I started to like it less. When it was over, my feeling was it was pretty good. As the days wore on and I thought about it more, again I liked it even less.

Regarding my predictions, I was pretty spot on for most of them.
My expectation for Crystal Skull is more "unrealism."
Yep, got that. I mean, surviving a nuclear explosion? Can't get much more unreal than that. And aliens? Please. Actually, though, I didn't really mind the aliens, per se. I guessed correctly about them from the trailer. My problem was that a) Indiana Jones didn't seem to have a problem with them and b) they were still around. I would have much preferred for Indy to have debunked them as a myth, or to have discovered the long dead remains of aliens (as opposed to the long dead but somehow still alive remains).

Prediction for Crystal Skull: more comedy, more one liners from Jones.
I think I was only half-right on this one. Although there were definitely more one-liners from Jones, the comedy in the movie on the whole seemed more restrained and in line with the tone of the others. I was quite worried at the beginning, however, as it seemed as though all Indy could say in the first 15 minutes were one-liners.

Prediction for Crystal Skull: lots of CGI.
Right on the money. It started less than 30 seconds into the movie with the prairie dogs. Ugh. It was fairly restrained for most of the movie (with obvious but acceptable exceptions), until we got to the Brazilian jungle. From then on, it was like watching a bunch of CGIs CGIing other CGIs. Extremely disappointing.

Things I hated:
-CGI prairie dogs
-Super magnetism
-Tumbling refrigerator
-Tarzan Mutt
-Three waterfalls
-CGI
-Aliens

Things I loved:
-Indiana Jones
-Wilhelm scream in library
-Reference to Pancho Villa & Young Indy
-Marion

Overall, it was entertaining. Nothing will ever live up to the first one, and that's okay. If I were to sum up my feeling for the the movie, it would probably be "wasted opportunity." There were several, which I'll probably address in a later post.