For the past few years, respectable journalistic outlets have been covering the rising tide of comic book culture. They hide their shame by re-naming the artform as "graphic novels."* Or they give themselves some ironic distance with endless variations on "Biff! Bam! Pow! Holy [Relevant Subject Matter], Batman!" & "Comics: Not Just For Kids Anymore!" Nonetheless, it seems like the secret shame of comic book fandom is out of the closet.
In Japan, where the equivalent artform is known as manga, comics are read in public by all members of society according to these articles. People openly and notoriously read these books on the subway, so the legend goes. Since I take two different trains during my commute to work every day I thought it might be a good opportunity to do some fieldwork to see if the same is happening in the United States.
In theory, my route would be ideal for spotting comic book readers. The first leg, the RiverLine to Camden, goes to Rutgers University. The second train, the Patco into Philadelphia, provides access to numerous undergraduate universities as well being the main means of arriving at a moderate-size art school, the University of the Arts. If the comic book surge is bringing in new readership, as these reports allege, commuter trains packed with artistically-inclined undergraduates should be prime observations territory.
Alas, it is not quite the case. Thus far I have witness only two incidents of people reading comics on the trains. They are not promising.
1st Encounter: Approximately two weeks ago on the RiverLine I spotted an aging, obese white male reading an issue of the Jeph Loeb HULK series. Not really the image comics are trying to encourage right now. On the other hand, dude was LOVING that comic book. He was folding pages around the spine and bending it like you read a newspaper, just devouring the thing. The look in his eyes was like a kid in a candy store. I suspect he was mildly mentally disabled.
2nd Encounter: This morning on the Patco I stood next to a paunchy, goateed white male in his early 30s wearing wire-rimmed spectacles; he looked rather meek. He was reading a new copy of the WATCHMEN trade paperback so I assume he is either new to comics or generally is a hardcore mainstream superheroes-only type of fan. I have no reason to suspect he was also mentally disabled but its a safe bet his social skills are severely impaired.
The results of my scientific study of new comic readership are, as you can observe, thus far quite disappointing.
Even expanding this to encompass other likely locations for comics reading does not bear fruit. Every afternoon I walk to the Starbucks near my firm, which is also the nearest Starbucks to the University of the Arts. The store is always teeming with artsy girls in their late teens and early twenties, who I have been led to believe love indie comics and manga, sitting there drinking coffee and reading. I have yet to spot any of them reading a comic book so it appears they are not so into the whole thing. You know what they ARE into? Avoiding eye contact with me so as to not give the false impression that I have a green light to approach them.
They must smell the fanboy on me.
* The term "comic book" in an anachronism anyway. It hearkens back to ye olde times when the first comic books were literally re-packaged newspaper comic strips. Stan Lee prefers the term "comicbook," no space between the words, to signify the break.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
A Very Pauly Christmas Part 1: It's a Wonderful Life
This will be the first of a series of Christmas movies I'll be writing about over the next month. Here's my list:
It's a Wonderful Life
Gremlins
The Nightmare Before Christmas
Die Hard
Eastern Promises
Home Alone 1 & 2
Scrooged
Jingle All the Way
Muppet Christmas Films & Specials
There isn't any sort of unifying theme amongst these films, they're just some of my favorite Christmas movies. I might throw in some Christmas episodes of old television shows, too. So without further ado,
It's a Wonderful Life was a film I would always watch on NBC after the Thanksgiving Parade and before everyone would come over for dinner. For whatever reason, they've stopped showing it in that time frame, so I picked it up on DVD a year or two ago. However, this film, and others like it, are ones that I prefer to watch as a network broadcast. I enjoy the breaks that tell me "It's a Wonderful Life will be right back" or remind of the fact that I'm watching It's a Wonderful Life on NBC. There was just something comforting in the whole network holiday movie presentation package.
Anyway, there's not much I can say about the film except that it's overlooked how many hilarious one-liners there are.
"What d'you mean you don't like coconut?"
"Listen, brainless."
"I like him" "You like every boy!"
"This is an interesting situation!"
"He's making violent love to me, mother!"
While only one of these lines is actually said by Jimmy Stewart, it's funnier to think of any line in film as if Jimmy Stewart said it.
I don't have much else to say, other than if you don't love this film, or if you don't think you love this film, please give it another shot and you'll find that is as hilarious as it is sentimental. And if that doesn't work out for you, check out the alternate ending below, as done by SNL in 1992:
It's a Wonderful Life
Gremlins
The Nightmare Before Christmas
Die Hard
Eastern Promises
Home Alone 1 & 2
Scrooged
Jingle All the Way
Muppet Christmas Films & Specials
There isn't any sort of unifying theme amongst these films, they're just some of my favorite Christmas movies. I might throw in some Christmas episodes of old television shows, too. So without further ado,
It's a Wonderful Life was a film I would always watch on NBC after the Thanksgiving Parade and before everyone would come over for dinner. For whatever reason, they've stopped showing it in that time frame, so I picked it up on DVD a year or two ago. However, this film, and others like it, are ones that I prefer to watch as a network broadcast. I enjoy the breaks that tell me "It's a Wonderful Life will be right back" or remind of the fact that I'm watching It's a Wonderful Life on NBC. There was just something comforting in the whole network holiday movie presentation package.
Anyway, there's not much I can say about the film except that it's overlooked how many hilarious one-liners there are.
"What d'you mean you don't like coconut?"
"Listen, brainless."
"I like him" "You like every boy!"
"This is an interesting situation!"
"He's making violent love to me, mother!"
While only one of these lines is actually said by Jimmy Stewart, it's funnier to think of any line in film as if Jimmy Stewart said it.
I don't have much else to say, other than if you don't love this film, or if you don't think you love this film, please give it another shot and you'll find that is as hilarious as it is sentimental. And if that doesn't work out for you, check out the alternate ending below, as done by SNL in 1992:
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
MTV's True Life
...A show in which young people make terrible choices.
This, of course, from a network specializing in shows about young people making terrible choices. Every show on MTV, good or bad, mostly bad, glamorizes generational narcissism. The Hills is rich kids living a glitzed up but still somehow dreary version of the typical suburban over-privileged white kid lifestyle. The Real World is your six or seven least-favorite self-absorbed douchebags shipped off to a familiar-yet-exotic locale to film an improvised Sartre play. The Tila Tequila brand features... sadness. Just sadness.
What sets True Life apart is that it abandons most pretense of glamorizing its subject. It genuinely takes a documentary approach. Each episode explores a single theme or experience of a refreshingly broad, racially, socially and economically cross-section of people 16-22. E.g. love triangles, long distance relationships, compulsive behavior, drug abuse, emotional traumas, graduations, marriage. What unites all of the episodes is that these people uniformly make terrible choices.
With a couple years of curmudgeonly distance between that demographic and myself, I feel confident in judging the people making the choices. Oh, the smug grin that spreads across my face as I witness slow-motion trainwrecks.
Beyond that, though, each story possesses a strange gravity. I want to know what happens to these people later on. The worst thing is when it looks like someone has their life back on the tracks then the coda comes on, written in black-and-white. He relapsed. She went back to the abusive boyfriend.
Not all the episodes end that bad. Sometimes there's a happy ending. Mostly, nothing changes. Life goes on, with the people stuck in the same rut.
So, the point of all this, if I have one is: What are the producers of True Life trying to say? Its a documentaty, right, but this is MTV. I can't shake the feeling that I'm being sold something, some lifestyle, some cultural product because I'm hanging on the margins of a valuable demographic. Yet, improbably, True Life exists above it all, unadulterated.
This, of course, from a network specializing in shows about young people making terrible choices. Every show on MTV, good or bad, mostly bad, glamorizes generational narcissism. The Hills is rich kids living a glitzed up but still somehow dreary version of the typical suburban over-privileged white kid lifestyle. The Real World is your six or seven least-favorite self-absorbed douchebags shipped off to a familiar-yet-exotic locale to film an improvised Sartre play. The Tila Tequila brand features... sadness. Just sadness.
What sets True Life apart is that it abandons most pretense of glamorizing its subject. It genuinely takes a documentary approach. Each episode explores a single theme or experience of a refreshingly broad, racially, socially and economically cross-section of people 16-22. E.g. love triangles, long distance relationships, compulsive behavior, drug abuse, emotional traumas, graduations, marriage. What unites all of the episodes is that these people uniformly make terrible choices.
With a couple years of curmudgeonly distance between that demographic and myself, I feel confident in judging the people making the choices. Oh, the smug grin that spreads across my face as I witness slow-motion trainwrecks.
Beyond that, though, each story possesses a strange gravity. I want to know what happens to these people later on. The worst thing is when it looks like someone has their life back on the tracks then the coda comes on, written in black-and-white. He relapsed. She went back to the abusive boyfriend.
Not all the episodes end that bad. Sometimes there's a happy ending. Mostly, nothing changes. Life goes on, with the people stuck in the same rut.
So, the point of all this, if I have one is: What are the producers of True Life trying to say? Its a documentaty, right, but this is MTV. I can't shake the feeling that I'm being sold something, some lifestyle, some cultural product because I'm hanging on the margins of a valuable demographic. Yet, improbably, True Life exists above it all, unadulterated.
Monday, December 1, 2008
Review: "Twilight"
Let me begin by pointing out that I have not seen the film but I have seen a trailer, so I feel that this makes me qualified to make a review.
Let me also point out that upon seeing the trailer on Lifetime (during Golden Girls or Fraiser), someone pointed out to me that they believed it to be a Lifetime movie about vampires.
Also, let me point out that when I heard this, I watched the trailer a second time and found out that the male lead is from the Harry Potter series of films. Thus I am double qualified.
The film (trailer) begins as dramatically as one could hope a teenage vampire film (trailer) to begin. The use of fog around the school parking lot creates an ominous feeling, already putting me on the edge of my seat. Then they push the drama even further. That low hanging precipitation that earlier in the film (trailer) worried me, has its ground-bound cousin, the puddle, transforms a mini-van into a several ton deadly torpedo careening towards our leading lady and her dad’s sweet pickup truck. At this point the drama has me close to shitting myself. The director of the film (trailer) now uses some amazing fades to show the connection made between the leading lady and the male lead that stopped the mini-van… with his hand! All the fades can mean is that these two are truly in love.
The tension grows as he denies explaining that he’s a vampire. She points out that he’s pale, cold, and burns easily. When she mutters the word ‘vampire’ you can sense the sexual tension in both their loins ready to explode.
However, before he can hold his pale undead body against hers, the dude’s vampire friends show up and want to get a piece of the girl too, because vampires love orgies. But the male lead refuses, lots of fighting ensues and glowing blue font reveals the most important line of the film (trailer)… ‘Forever Begins Now.’ Holy shit, my mind is blown. This teenage vampire film (trailer) has show me that love has no boundaries and how now tosses out some Kant level philosophy all in less than two and a half minutes.
Overall it was pretty awesome. My only problem is that it seems kind of short, like maybe they cut some stuff out. I’m pretty sure the bad vampires lose, but I’m not exactly sure. Sequel?
Let me also point out that upon seeing the trailer on Lifetime (during Golden Girls or Fraiser), someone pointed out to me that they believed it to be a Lifetime movie about vampires.
Also, let me point out that when I heard this, I watched the trailer a second time and found out that the male lead is from the Harry Potter series of films. Thus I am double qualified.
The film (trailer) begins as dramatically as one could hope a teenage vampire film (trailer) to begin. The use of fog around the school parking lot creates an ominous feeling, already putting me on the edge of my seat. Then they push the drama even further. That low hanging precipitation that earlier in the film (trailer) worried me, has its ground-bound cousin, the puddle, transforms a mini-van into a several ton deadly torpedo careening towards our leading lady and her dad’s sweet pickup truck. At this point the drama has me close to shitting myself. The director of the film (trailer) now uses some amazing fades to show the connection made between the leading lady and the male lead that stopped the mini-van… with his hand! All the fades can mean is that these two are truly in love.
The tension grows as he denies explaining that he’s a vampire. She points out that he’s pale, cold, and burns easily. When she mutters the word ‘vampire’ you can sense the sexual tension in both their loins ready to explode.
However, before he can hold his pale undead body against hers, the dude’s vampire friends show up and want to get a piece of the girl too, because vampires love orgies. But the male lead refuses, lots of fighting ensues and glowing blue font reveals the most important line of the film (trailer)… ‘Forever Begins Now.’ Holy shit, my mind is blown. This teenage vampire film (trailer) has show me that love has no boundaries and how now tosses out some Kant level philosophy all in less than two and a half minutes.
Overall it was pretty awesome. My only problem is that it seems kind of short, like maybe they cut some stuff out. I’m pretty sure the bad vampires lose, but I’m not exactly sure. Sequel?
Friday, November 28, 2008
Review: Baz Luhrmann's Australia
Dear Wolverine,
Why did you make this movie? And when did you take up acting? Were you possessed by the Shadow King? Or did Mastermind create an illusion that convinced you you were living the life of an Australian "cowboy"? Perhaps Spider-Man's foe, Mysterio, convinced you that you were this "Drover" character whose name was also his profession of cattle drover. Mesmero once convinced me that I was the proprietor of an erotic cake bakery. And I could understand wanting to believe the illusion. While I was an erotic cake baker in my mind, I was never happier. But why would you want to live in this illusion? I looked for any signs in your eyes that you were fighting, but you appeared to have given up.
Please, we're all concerned for you, even Scott.* Come by the mansion and we shall get your mind all sorted out.
Sincerely,
Professor Charles Francis Xavier
*Though he's still a dick
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Will The World Change Today?
Today is Election Day. My political leanings are as transparent as a clean windshield: I’m liberal, and I’m voting Obama. No surprise there. It’s also not surprising that after a month of horror entertainment, I think the scariest thing of all would be a Palin administration.
Like most angsty, apathetic people, I didn’t care about politics until they got bad. I was raised by democratic parents, so by the time I became aware that there is a president, good ol’ Bill was in office, and I had nothing to worry about. In 2000, when Bush was elected, all I really knew was that if I could vote, I would have voted for Gore, but I couldn’t tell you why. That was my junior year of high school, and my US History teacher couldn’t have been happier that we were witnessing an historic undecided election, but this was history that, admittedly, I only cared about peripherally.
Sadly, it wasn’t until Bush did things I really disapproved of that I started caring: Invading Iraq on false pretenses, putting us into a ridiculous monetary deficit, violating most of our civil rights, citing his religion for decisions he makes—just to name a few. In 2004, I was able to vote in my first presidential election, and I proudly drove home and voted for that guy that wasn’t Bush. John Somethingorother.
Oh, that’s right, John Kerry. Obviously I knew that, but I don’t care. The fact of the matter is that I, and so many people that I know, simply voted for not Bush. And then Bush won, and continued to alienate me. Today, November 4, 2008, there’s so much talk about replacing Bush. For me, I’m happy to be able to vote for someone I actually believe in, rather than voting for the lesser of two evils. But the truth is, as I said before, that I didn’t care about politics until it got bad, and that just makes me wish I still didn’t have to care.
Will the world change today? It just might. But I can't help but think about how much better it would have been if it never reached the point where we needed it to.
Like most angsty, apathetic people, I didn’t care about politics until they got bad. I was raised by democratic parents, so by the time I became aware that there is a president, good ol’ Bill was in office, and I had nothing to worry about. In 2000, when Bush was elected, all I really knew was that if I could vote, I would have voted for Gore, but I couldn’t tell you why. That was my junior year of high school, and my US History teacher couldn’t have been happier that we were witnessing an historic undecided election, but this was history that, admittedly, I only cared about peripherally.
Sadly, it wasn’t until Bush did things I really disapproved of that I started caring: Invading Iraq on false pretenses, putting us into a ridiculous monetary deficit, violating most of our civil rights, citing his religion for decisions he makes—just to name a few. In 2004, I was able to vote in my first presidential election, and I proudly drove home and voted for that guy that wasn’t Bush. John Somethingorother.
Oh, that’s right, John Kerry. Obviously I knew that, but I don’t care. The fact of the matter is that I, and so many people that I know, simply voted for not Bush. And then Bush won, and continued to alienate me. Today, November 4, 2008, there’s so much talk about replacing Bush. For me, I’m happy to be able to vote for someone I actually believe in, rather than voting for the lesser of two evils. But the truth is, as I said before, that I didn’t care about politics until it got bad, and that just makes me wish I still didn’t have to care.
Will the world change today? It just might. But I can't help but think about how much better it would have been if it never reached the point where we needed it to.
Monday, November 3, 2008
Monday Night Raw: 800th Episode
I have been a wrestling fan most of my life. But midway through college I stopped giving a shit. My experiment, beginning tonight is to see if they can make me give a damn about their programming again. Tonight is Raw's 800th episode, and none of the shows I normally watch on Mondays are on, so I'm giving them another shot. Will they capture my attention again? Let's see.
8:17 - Just started watching. They seem to be showing "best of" stuff at the moment. Right now its "The Kid" vs Razor Ramon. Sean Waltman, X-Pac, 1-2-3 Kid has always kinda looked douchey.
8:18 - Now its an 8 man battle royale for an intercontinental shot. And the current champ...an Italian with a unibrow and a mullet is walking out. I have no idea who anyone is onscreen. The unibrow guy's unibrow is painfully fake. His name is Santino apparently.
8:20 - Oh wait, there's William Regal. He's no fun unless he's on the mic, though. And Ted Dibiase's son is in this match too. He needs a beard. And a manservant to count his money. I think Diabiase might win...but it will be a hollow victory without a beard, a manservant, and a suit with dollar signs on it.
8:22 - William Regal wins it. He's got spooky bad guy music now. I miss his stuffy English music. When he was the "WWE Ambassador" character, waving like the Queen. Ooh. They're doing the old "someone's pulling up in a limo gag." It's Stephanie McMahon! OOOO! And Shane McMahon...ooooh!
8: 24 - Commercial Break. Based on the Mortal Kombat Vs. DC Universe commercial I just saw, I will not be buying that game. "We have come to challenge you to Mortal Kombat!" Lame.
8: 28 - New Raw theme sucks. Another flashback. Vince buying WCW. Now Randy Orton's in the ring. Almost forgot he existed. Shane McMahon making a big entrance...I still like his entrance music. Everything is better with entrance music. Vince McMahon should handle elections in this country.
8: 35 - Pretty bored. Bored bored bored. Checking email, checking various websites.
8:41 - Obama saying "Do you smell what Barack is cookin?" with no conviction or energy at all. I wish he had The Rock working with him on interviews. Now they have a new Russian bad guy. What the fuck? Bret Hart music??? Ok...apparently Charlie Haas is Bret "The Hitman" Haas. He's doing the stolen gimmick bit that Big Show and others have done before. Lame.
8:47 - USA's commercial for Inside Man just made it seem like a wacky comedy. Intriguing.
8:50 - Jim Ross isn't announcing on Raw. Not right. Ugh. Now they've got Bautista. He sucks. WWE is a bunch of sucky sucks now. I don't know if I can make another 2 hours and 10 minutes.
8:56 - DX is coming out. Don't really know if an anti-establishment angle works when you're the owner's son-in-law. Or when the other member is a born-again Christian. Triple H seems bored. "You can mock my kids, you can punch my wife in the face, but nobody mocks my chaps" - Shawn Michaels. You cannot mock chaps...especially when assless. They have made me chuckle, but this segment has gone on for 10 minutes now.
9:14 - Experiment over. Not paying attention anymore. I'm bored, I do not give a shit. Sorry RAW, I'll give you a try again in a few years.
Friday, October 31, 2008
Day 31: Shadow of a Doubt
"You go through your ordinary little day, and at night you sleep your untroubled ordinary little sleep, filled with peaceful stupid dreams. And I brought you nightmares. Or did I? Or was it a silly, inexpert little lie? You live in a dream. You're a sleepwalker, blind. How do you know what the world is like? Do you know the world is a foul sty? Do you know, if you rip off the fronts of houses, you'd find swine? The world's a hell. What does it matter what happens in it?"
- Joseph Cotton as Uncle Charlie in Shadow of a Doubt
I find myself tired, and trying to find some spare time in my Halloween night, so I'll only leave you with the quote above, and the extreme recommendation, Halloween movie or not, make sure you see Shadow of a Doubt at least once in your life. It is one of Hitchock's best films and definitely one of my all time favorites. I'll go in-depth on this film at a later date, but for now, it shall simply be something that I recommend.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Day 30: The "Friday the Thirteenth" Series
Though not the original—I suppose that would be “Halloween”—the “Friday the Thirteenth” series is synonymous with “guy who can’t die in order to make more movies”…as if that’s something of which to be proud. Truth is, a lot of horror purists think it is, and frankly so do it. Should the thirteenth of a given month happen to land on a Friday, this previously innocuous* day now warrants horror of the highest level all thanks to a hockey mask and whatever’s convenient for killing someone at that moment.
What the layperson associates with the franchise—the hockey mask, machete, and “ch ch ch ah ah ah”—are rather frightening, but they’re not what the franchise is really rooted in. When the original “Friday the Thirteenth” was released in 1980, the murderer was a mystery, the killings rather simple, and the horror very real. Once revealed, we learned that the original “Jason” was simply the voice in a grieving mother’s head, as she sought revenge on those that had caused Jason’s death: the counselors at Camp Crystal Lake.
And thus we have the mythology of the character Jason that we all know so well. This brute who doesn’t feel pain, hides his face and is surprisingly crafty when in need of a death tool was once a young camper whose promiscuous and drug addicted counselors felt no need to keep track of—even when he was drowning. It’s really a case that any mother would want to take revenge on. What we’re all so afraid of however is when the boy himself takes over.
In the second installment of the franchise (well, really the last few minutes of the first), we’re introduced to Jason the specter, a ghoulish figure who, seeking revenge for his own death, will seek any means necessary to murder not only those responsible for his death, but anyone who takes up post as a counselor at Camp Crystal Lake, and in fact any late teen or twenty something that seeks his legend or spends a few hours or a night there.
The good news for those watching is not only the amount of nudity in the series used to demonstrate the promiscuity, but also the fantastic ways in which Jason kills: From his trusty machete, to drowning people, to trapping people in sleeping bags and smacking them up against trees, to conveniently finding the right weapon at the right time (see: a random vat of toxic waste in “Jason Takes Manhattan,” or a sink full of liquid nitrogen in “Jason X, Jason in Outer Space”). The beauty is that Jason can be killed each of these ways as well…he just doesn’t stay dead come the intro to the next movie.
Like any great horror franchise, there’s a drop-off in greatness the more movies that get made. In his 10 movie career (11 if you count “Freddy vs. Jason”), Jason has murdered in Manhattan, been defeated by some sort of telepath, gotten new mythologies, traded a burlap sack for his trademark hockey mask, had his heart eaten, and been to outer space (which happened after he “went to hell”). No franchise can sustain itself for 10 (or 11 movies) well, and “Friday the Thirteenth” is no different. But the beauty of the franchise isn’t its sustained quality, but it’s cultural affect. Halloween was scary before “Halloween,” and nightmares were frightening before they happened on Elm Street, but the thirteenth’s mainstream cause for terror was never the same after 1980.
*Maybe not historically, but certainly commonly.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Day 29: EDWARD SCISSORHANDS (1990)
With Tim Burton's second attempt to make a Frankenstein film, at this point in his career with a couple of successful films under his belt, the director re-interprets Frankenstein as a kid-friendly story with a slightly darker tone.
He does once again jettison the central conceit, which is, to refresh our memory, that men like Baron Frankenstein (or in this case, The Inventor played by Vincent Price) will be punished for transgressing against God or the Gods. In its place, Burton substitutes two different Ur-conflicts, man versus himself and man versus society. The Edward Scissorhands (Johnny Depp) of the title plays a central role in both.
On one level, the film explores The Inventor's battle with his own loneliness. While Frankenstein's attempt to create life was spurred on by pure hubris (or maniacal glee when played by Peter Cushing), here, the creature's erstwhile creator seeks only to complete himself. He desires only a companion and a son, someone to love and be loved by in return. Sadly, like many parents, he dies before he can see his child reach his full potential. It is a far more personal story, even if Burton only skims the surface.
On the other level, the film explores the conflict between the creature as an outsider and mainstream society. It is not mere coincidence that Edward resembles the typical Goth, or that the film takes place primarily in the suburbs, among the American ideal that this imperfect being can never fit in with. As Edward learns societal norms and acclimates himself more to the suburban lifestyle, the people in turn accept him more. Later, they turn on him sharply, never having learned to fully trust this outsider they believe absolutely in the first (false) rumor of his transgressions against one of their own. In the end, the creature is once again cast off by society and forced to live alone.
These two conflicts are subjects that Burton turns to in his films time after time. In so many ways, he wears his broken teenage heart on his sleeve when he directs.
There exists a certain fondness in my own heart for this film, which has resulted in my being awful lenient, complimentary even, towards Burton's departure from the classic Frankenstein story he draws upon for his narrative. There are a couple reasons for this.
First, most serious devotees of film will likely agree by this point that Burton's waters run only so deep. Thematically, his films trend strongly towards shallow ponds, albeit ponds with an inspired sense of design. (SWEENEY TODD (2008), for example, was a Frankenstein's monster-like abomination against Stephen Sondheim's work but was also the most beautifully shot film of the year. I look forward to seeing it in Blu-Ray.) One must accept his work for what it is, contradictorily both deeply personal but failing to provide any deeper truth.
Second, the film adheres to most of the window dressing of the James Whale films. Examples of this include the castle and the angry mob, though the rationale behind the mob is slightly different. Burton, despite his flaws, is gifted when it comes to borrowing elements from other sources and re-fashioning them as his own. Say what you will about PLANET OF THE APES (2001) but if someone had told you he would re-make that sci-fi classic, the final result was basically what you would expect--an homage or two, followed by a complete re-appropriation of the story in an insane direction.
This is without any doubt a film which belongs in the upper echelons of the Frankenstein canon. Although it is not very faithful to many of the core elements, it does manage to explore alternate themes in a highly satisfying way.
OVERALL: ****/5 and an oddly faithful adaptation of the Frankenstein myth.
He does once again jettison the central conceit, which is, to refresh our memory, that men like Baron Frankenstein (or in this case, The Inventor played by Vincent Price) will be punished for transgressing against God or the Gods. In its place, Burton substitutes two different Ur-conflicts, man versus himself and man versus society. The Edward Scissorhands (Johnny Depp) of the title plays a central role in both.
On one level, the film explores The Inventor's battle with his own loneliness. While Frankenstein's attempt to create life was spurred on by pure hubris (or maniacal glee when played by Peter Cushing), here, the creature's erstwhile creator seeks only to complete himself. He desires only a companion and a son, someone to love and be loved by in return. Sadly, like many parents, he dies before he can see his child reach his full potential. It is a far more personal story, even if Burton only skims the surface.
On the other level, the film explores the conflict between the creature as an outsider and mainstream society. It is not mere coincidence that Edward resembles the typical Goth, or that the film takes place primarily in the suburbs, among the American ideal that this imperfect being can never fit in with. As Edward learns societal norms and acclimates himself more to the suburban lifestyle, the people in turn accept him more. Later, they turn on him sharply, never having learned to fully trust this outsider they believe absolutely in the first (false) rumor of his transgressions against one of their own. In the end, the creature is once again cast off by society and forced to live alone.
These two conflicts are subjects that Burton turns to in his films time after time. In so many ways, he wears his broken teenage heart on his sleeve when he directs.
There exists a certain fondness in my own heart for this film, which has resulted in my being awful lenient, complimentary even, towards Burton's departure from the classic Frankenstein story he draws upon for his narrative. There are a couple reasons for this.
First, most serious devotees of film will likely agree by this point that Burton's waters run only so deep. Thematically, his films trend strongly towards shallow ponds, albeit ponds with an inspired sense of design. (SWEENEY TODD (2008), for example, was a Frankenstein's monster-like abomination against Stephen Sondheim's work but was also the most beautifully shot film of the year. I look forward to seeing it in Blu-Ray.) One must accept his work for what it is, contradictorily both deeply personal but failing to provide any deeper truth.
Second, the film adheres to most of the window dressing of the James Whale films. Examples of this include the castle and the angry mob, though the rationale behind the mob is slightly different. Burton, despite his flaws, is gifted when it comes to borrowing elements from other sources and re-fashioning them as his own. Say what you will about PLANET OF THE APES (2001) but if someone had told you he would re-make that sci-fi classic, the final result was basically what you would expect--an homage or two, followed by a complete re-appropriation of the story in an insane direction.
This is without any doubt a film which belongs in the upper echelons of the Frankenstein canon. Although it is not very faithful to many of the core elements, it does manage to explore alternate themes in a highly satisfying way.
OVERALL: ****/5 and an oddly faithful adaptation of the Frankenstein myth.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Day 28: Robert Kirkman’s "The Walking Dead"
For more than eight volumes, Robert Kirkman has told the story of a band of survivors just trying to survive in his graphic novel series, “The Walking Dead.” Much like my colleague describes below in regards to George A. Romero’s movies, Kirkman succeeds in creating a world where the existence of zombies is simply the norm. But where Romero has the restraints of the MPAA, and the need to keep his movies at an R rating or less to make all of their money back, Kirkman has the freedom to take his characters, and the artists with whom he works, to almost uncharted territory in the zombie genre.
It’s true that there are only so many ways in which a zombie can devour a human, but put in the scenario that the living (as opposed to the undead) are in, the human mind seems be limitless in its possibilities to survive, and this is the territory that Kirkman treads on. And sometimes, he trespasses: killing babies, decapitating humans as bribes, fighting zombies as sport and torturing the living are just some of the devices that Kirkman’s characters employ, not just to survive, but to prove to each other that his or her life is more valuable than another’s.
“The Walking Dead” has been published monthly since 2003, and in these five years, it’s had ample time to develop its story. While early volumes certainly cast the undead as the villain, later volumes almost seldom have them making appearances, and often when they are in a scene, facing them is the preferred option to facing the other survivors. In fact, when later volumes feature killings by the zombies, those deaths almost seem like copouts.
While Kirkman hasn’t hinted that any ending is near, he’s running out of characters to kill. Perhaps upcoming volumes will return to the zombie-as-villain storyline, getting the remaining survivors out of their surrogate homes, and back on the run from the undead and the pathetically living. It might be a good turn since most of the protagonists’ character traits are almost exactly those of the other humans they’re fighting: selfish, dangerous, and mostly uncaring. But for the world in which they’re forced to live, maybe it’s not so far fetched to not have a “good guy”.
Three people that are scarier than zombies out of five.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Day 27: Night, Dawn, Day, Land, & Diary of the Dead
It is more than likely that until the day he dies, George Romero will make zombie movies that point out the ills of society. He might even continue after that, because it seems that the same problems he's been pointing out over the years: racism, classism, and consumerism among other themes.
The thing about Romero's Dead series is that the zombies aren't the bad guys. They are simply part of that world. They may not seem like anything natural, but they represent two things that are very natural, human nature and death. The walking dead can almost be considered innocent when their actions are compared to those of the survivors. The zombies are driven by one thing, the need to feast on living flesh. There is some base version of survival in their instinct. They may not need living flesh to survive, they're going to rot and decompose either way, but there is a purity in their single-mindedness.
No, the true villains of these films are those in humanity who seek more than survival in the end of the world. They come in the form of a lynch mob-like group of hillbillies in the end of Night of the Living Dead and Dawn of the Dead, as well as marauding bikers in Dawn, and they are the remnants of the military-industrial complex in Day, Land and Diary of the Dead.
It's not to say that the zombies are "good guys." They simply are. Romero always presents a group of human survivors that are simply trying to live, to carry on with some sort of life as the good guys. And they inevitably come into conflict with the dregs of humanity that have survived, ultimately leading to the destruction of whatever society they have tried to restore, leaving even less people to carry on. There is never any action on the part of the zombies, they are only able to feed when the good guys and bad guys collide. In other words, humanity always brings death and destruction upon itself because it can't move past things as petty as race, religion, or material wealth.
Romero has shown us these images again and again, and in Diary of the Dead he shows how ineffective it is to simply watch these events unfold. It takes action to survive and build a better society. We can't beat death, but we can defeat those who selfishly put themselves above the greater good. It just seems that we are stuck in a pattern of watching instead of doing.
The thing about Romero's Dead series is that the zombies aren't the bad guys. They are simply part of that world. They may not seem like anything natural, but they represent two things that are very natural, human nature and death. The walking dead can almost be considered innocent when their actions are compared to those of the survivors. The zombies are driven by one thing, the need to feast on living flesh. There is some base version of survival in their instinct. They may not need living flesh to survive, they're going to rot and decompose either way, but there is a purity in their single-mindedness.
No, the true villains of these films are those in humanity who seek more than survival in the end of the world. They come in the form of a lynch mob-like group of hillbillies in the end of Night of the Living Dead and Dawn of the Dead, as well as marauding bikers in Dawn, and they are the remnants of the military-industrial complex in Day, Land and Diary of the Dead.
It's not to say that the zombies are "good guys." They simply are. Romero always presents a group of human survivors that are simply trying to live, to carry on with some sort of life as the good guys. And they inevitably come into conflict with the dregs of humanity that have survived, ultimately leading to the destruction of whatever society they have tried to restore, leaving even less people to carry on. There is never any action on the part of the zombies, they are only able to feed when the good guys and bad guys collide. In other words, humanity always brings death and destruction upon itself because it can't move past things as petty as race, religion, or material wealth.
Romero has shown us these images again and again, and in Diary of the Dead he shows how ineffective it is to simply watch these events unfold. It takes action to survive and build a better society. We can't beat death, but we can defeat those who selfishly put themselves above the greater good. It just seems that we are stuck in a pattern of watching instead of doing.
Friday, October 24, 2008
Day 24: THE CURSE OF FRANKENSTEIN (1957)
The first Hammer horror film and the first of many Frankenstein films the studio would produce, Terence Fisher's THE CURSE OF FRANKENSTEIN (1957) is neither an adaptation of the novel nor an update to James Whale's Universal original. (Hammer explicitly drew upon the early Universal horror films for inspiration.) While it jettisons many of the central thematic elements of those works, and indeed the Frankenstein mythos itself, it does manage to create an exceptional horror film.
That is not to suggest that the film does not hint at the error of man usurping the powers of Gods. Towards the beginning of the film, an imprisoned Victor Frankenstein (Peter Cushing), calls upon a priest to come and act as his confessor. This encounter proceeds to the point where Frankenstein moves to strangle the priest. To paraphrase Ralph Wiggum describing the final scene of THE DEPARTED (2007), the rat symbolizes obviousness. Later on, Frankenstein and his former tutor, Paul (Robert Urquhart), have an argument on the result of their shared experiment. Paul calls it a revolt against nature, having been in the corpse reviving game purely in pursuit of a humanistic improvement to modern surgery techniques. Frankenstein is genuinely ambivalent about stopping scientific progress merely because his work is an abomination in the eyes of God. Those two scenes would be the extent of it.
The film remains more than notable, however. Even if it fails to transcend its genre in favor of a shallow horror film, it is at least far from typical. Here, at last, was all the blood and gore and sex and pure, insane awesomeness which is the basis of the Hammer horror legend!
More than a Frankenstein film, this is cross between a mad scientist film (a dominant horror sub-genre during the 1950s) and a zombie film (in the style of George Romero but before Romero). It possesses trappings of both, without completely indulging either instinct. The film is also like a Gothic love story, in the style I have discussed here previously, but with a nefarious, crazed leading man.
Peter Cushing does a phenomenal job as Victor Frankenstein, going through his role with a mad gleam in his eyes the whole time. In the first experiment to revive the dead, he and Paul bring back a small dog from the dead and Cushing just dives into madness. He plays its just with his facial expressions, stopping just short of breaking into maniacal laughter and self-parody. He bangs the maid and treats her terribly, manipulating and controlling her, as he does most of the people in his life.
Christopher Lee, under make-up that has him looking like the Toxic Avenger with a Beatles moptop, does an equally great job as Frankenstein's unholy creature. Less a man in a state of nature (the novel) or a shambling hulk (the Universal film), here the creature is basically a zombie. Well, except for a love of eating brains but he can always learn that one later. The similarities really hit me towards the middle of the film, when Frankenstein has the creature chained to the wall like a late-stage Romero zombie.
To accompany these elements, the film has plenty of violence. The appearance of the creature, shockingly disfigured and grotesque, especially for that era, is only the beginning. Victor Frankenstein non-chalantly sawing off a corpse's head and collecting various gooey eyeballs, brains, et cetera from corrupt charnel house attendants, continue in this vein. The creature gets his eye shot out and blood subsequently squirts out like a geyser. Later, the creature gets set on fire and falls in a tub of acid. Also, some other random murders. It is, to put it simply, fucking insanity.
After being disappointed by THE HORROR OF DRACULA (1958), made by largely the same group of people, this film was approached with trepidation. The MacBook was at the ready, biding its time until email was checked, webpages distractedly scrolled through and unsuspecting females creepily scrutinized on Facebook. Instead, THE CURSE OF FRANKENSTEIN achieved pure greatness.
OVERALL: ****/5. I was shocked to have enjoyed this film so much.
That is not to suggest that the film does not hint at the error of man usurping the powers of Gods. Towards the beginning of the film, an imprisoned Victor Frankenstein (Peter Cushing), calls upon a priest to come and act as his confessor. This encounter proceeds to the point where Frankenstein moves to strangle the priest. To paraphrase Ralph Wiggum describing the final scene of THE DEPARTED (2007), the rat symbolizes obviousness. Later on, Frankenstein and his former tutor, Paul (Robert Urquhart), have an argument on the result of their shared experiment. Paul calls it a revolt against nature, having been in the corpse reviving game purely in pursuit of a humanistic improvement to modern surgery techniques. Frankenstein is genuinely ambivalent about stopping scientific progress merely because his work is an abomination in the eyes of God. Those two scenes would be the extent of it.
The film remains more than notable, however. Even if it fails to transcend its genre in favor of a shallow horror film, it is at least far from typical. Here, at last, was all the blood and gore and sex and pure, insane awesomeness which is the basis of the Hammer horror legend!
More than a Frankenstein film, this is cross between a mad scientist film (a dominant horror sub-genre during the 1950s) and a zombie film (in the style of George Romero but before Romero). It possesses trappings of both, without completely indulging either instinct. The film is also like a Gothic love story, in the style I have discussed here previously, but with a nefarious, crazed leading man.
Peter Cushing does a phenomenal job as Victor Frankenstein, going through his role with a mad gleam in his eyes the whole time. In the first experiment to revive the dead, he and Paul bring back a small dog from the dead and Cushing just dives into madness. He plays its just with his facial expressions, stopping just short of breaking into maniacal laughter and self-parody. He bangs the maid and treats her terribly, manipulating and controlling her, as he does most of the people in his life.
Christopher Lee, under make-up that has him looking like the Toxic Avenger with a Beatles moptop, does an equally great job as Frankenstein's unholy creature. Less a man in a state of nature (the novel) or a shambling hulk (the Universal film), here the creature is basically a zombie. Well, except for a love of eating brains but he can always learn that one later. The similarities really hit me towards the middle of the film, when Frankenstein has the creature chained to the wall like a late-stage Romero zombie.
To accompany these elements, the film has plenty of violence. The appearance of the creature, shockingly disfigured and grotesque, especially for that era, is only the beginning. Victor Frankenstein non-chalantly sawing off a corpse's head and collecting various gooey eyeballs, brains, et cetera from corrupt charnel house attendants, continue in this vein. The creature gets his eye shot out and blood subsequently squirts out like a geyser. Later, the creature gets set on fire and falls in a tub of acid. Also, some other random murders. It is, to put it simply, fucking insanity.
After being disappointed by THE HORROR OF DRACULA (1958), made by largely the same group of people, this film was approached with trepidation. The MacBook was at the ready, biding its time until email was checked, webpages distractedly scrolled through and unsuspecting females creepily scrutinized on Facebook. Instead, THE CURSE OF FRANKENSTEIN achieved pure greatness.
OVERALL: ****/5. I was shocked to have enjoyed this film so much.
Day 23: Count Chocula, Frankenberry and Boo Berry cereals
Each features a sugary rice puff, vaguely in the shape of its branding motif, as well as tiny marshmallows, also vaguely in the shape of something "spooky." They are relatively devoid of nutritional content--approximately 130 calories per 1 cup, high in sugar and nearly devoid of fiber, protein and nutrients.
Count Chocula is clearly the "big ticket" item among these cereals, being the only one reliably found on supermarket shelves year-round. In most markets, Frankenberry and Boo Berry are unavailable until around Halloween. (I am unaware of whether they are produced during the remainder of the year and available to order.) There is nothing particularly distinguishing among the three except the artificial flavor. Chocula, obviously, gets chocolate. The others receive something akin to berries, or at least the closest thing to it that can be developed along the "Chemical Corridor" in northern New Jersey; Frankenberry leans towards strawberry but not anything immediately recognizable as such.
On that account, Frankenberry gets the closest to the themes of its source. While the term "Frankenfood" traditionally is applied only to genetically-modified produce or livestock, it would be difficult to argue that the cereal is anything less than an act in definance of God and all that is holy. On the other hand, only very special people would recognize the erotic subtext of Count Chocula.
OVERALL: ***/5 compared against the sugary breakfast cereal genre. They lack the nutritional value of Cheerios, for example, but also do not go as far into decadence as Cookie Crisps.
Count Chocula is clearly the "big ticket" item among these cereals, being the only one reliably found on supermarket shelves year-round. In most markets, Frankenberry and Boo Berry are unavailable until around Halloween. (I am unaware of whether they are produced during the remainder of the year and available to order.) There is nothing particularly distinguishing among the three except the artificial flavor. Chocula, obviously, gets chocolate. The others receive something akin to berries, or at least the closest thing to it that can be developed along the "Chemical Corridor" in northern New Jersey; Frankenberry leans towards strawberry but not anything immediately recognizable as such.
On that account, Frankenberry gets the closest to the themes of its source. While the term "Frankenfood" traditionally is applied only to genetically-modified produce or livestock, it would be difficult to argue that the cereal is anything less than an act in definance of God and all that is holy. On the other hand, only very special people would recognize the erotic subtext of Count Chocula.
OVERALL: ***/5 compared against the sugary breakfast cereal genre. They lack the nutritional value of Cheerios, for example, but also do not go as far into decadence as Cookie Crisps.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Day 22: The Cinematic Legend of I AM LEGEND
Since Richard Matheson's I Am Legend was published in 1954, there have been three attempts at adapting the novel: The Last Man on Earth starring Vincent Price in 1964, The Omega Man starring Charlton Heston in 1971, and I Am Legend starring Will Smith in 2007. The most interesting thing about these films is how The Last Man on Earth and I Am Legend serve as bookends to the zombie genre. I'll mostly be ignoring The Omega Man, as it is the most divergent from the novel, and doesn't serve any real purpose in this essay.
Matheson's novel is a deconstruction of the vampire. The vampires that come about as a result of a global virus have symptoms associated with vampirism, yet Robert Neville surmises that many of these are psychological. The way they act is based on how they think a vampire should act. Belief has to do with their weaknesses as well, as in the case of Neville's former colleague, Ben Cortman, a cross has no effect on him, but the Jewish Torah does. These vampires are also slow moving and slow-witted, not the cunning, sexy vampires of Stoker or portrayed by Lugosi.
While the deconstructed vampire isn't carried over into The Last Man on Earth, the de-evolved one is. They are slow, stupid, and single minded in pursuit of Neville. They are drawn to him not only because he is food, but because he represents a tie to the world that used to be. This film takes the vampire away from the role of the other and reminds us that he is us. There's no allure here for living past death. It is something the mind can't handle and it brings humanity down to its very worst. This film is cited as an inspiration for the modern zombie, for the "Romero" zombie, which I'll touch on a bit more tomorrow. For now, its important to note that rather than revolutionize the vampire genre, the zombie genre was birthed instead.
Cut to 40 years later, and another adaptation of I Am Legend which has more influences in recent zombie films than it does in the book or in vampire lore. The "dark seekers" in the film, are an amalgamation of running zombies and Bat Boy from the Weekly World News. They're sensitive to sunlight, burning but not incinerating, and can be killed with bullets or whatever else is lying around. They are strong, they are fast, and they are all exactly the same. There is very little definition to these creature in design and in behavior. The seekers are supposed to have a leader creature, but its hard to tell when they all have the same features and the same tattered clothing. And for the most part, there is no effort to show that these creatures are us.
As I said, there is almost no effort to show any humanity in the "dark seekers." However, there are little touches here and there, and there is an alternate cut. The leader shows affection for the female seeker that Neville captures in both cuts of the film. The leader also sets a trap for Neville, copying the same trap that Neville caught his mate with. These elements are in both cuts of the film, yet in the theatrical cut they are ignored by Neville, without any indication that this is willful ignorance. It just seems to be glossed over. They've been stripped of their humanity so that Smith's Neville can retain his, so that in spite of any evidence to the contrary, he remains the hero.
Here's where I briefly bring in Mr. Heston's film. Both the Omega Man and I Am Legend succeed when their leading man is left alone. But once the monsters and other survivors are introduced, the filmmakers chose to put everything into stark black and white. The grey areas of the first film and the novel are ignored. They don't allow any humanity in their monsters nor do they allow any monster in their heroes. Each sacrifices themselves for "the greater good" of the remnants of humanity rather than accept the reality of Price's film and Matheson's book, that humanity is dead, and Robert Neville, the last man, is nothing more than a legend.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Day 21: Frankenweenie (1984)
Tim Burton's first film does not quite do the same job as A Taste for Love (2008) in terms of encapsulating the themes of the original work. Of course, the latter takes place in the context of an R rated film and the former as a Disney short film, which my account for most of that.
Anyway. Young Victor Frankenstein;s beloved dog is run over by a car. Then because Victor is precocious, like all good children's film protagonists, and he loves the mutt, he raises the dog from the dead. The villagers hate the dog mostly because it is ugly; it causes mischief not even rising to the level of hinjinx, let alone murdering a little girl like the original monster. The dog saves Victor's life but dies again in the process. Finally, the villagers rally around this unholy abomination for his heroics and all pitch in to revive the dog a second time.
The lesson of that is, obviously, 1) don't be ugly and 2) if you insist upon being ugly, save a child's life.
In one brief scene Victor's parents very nearly arrive at the question of the morality of playing God but never quite get there. Then again, the entire Disney empire is built upon the notion that you can take powerful, primal storytelling (Grimm's and Han Christian Anderson's fairy tales, Kipling, et cetera) and translate that into something palatable for a mass audience, often retaining a large degree of artisitc merit in the process. In other words, it is an inevitable and entitely acceptable whitewash.
OVERALL: ***/5 but be warned that this short film is complete and utter fluff, as per the Tim Burton oeuvre.
Anyway. Young Victor Frankenstein;s beloved dog is run over by a car. Then because Victor is precocious, like all good children's film protagonists, and he loves the mutt, he raises the dog from the dead. The villagers hate the dog mostly because it is ugly; it causes mischief not even rising to the level of hinjinx, let alone murdering a little girl like the original monster. The dog saves Victor's life but dies again in the process. Finally, the villagers rally around this unholy abomination for his heroics and all pitch in to revive the dog a second time.
The lesson of that is, obviously, 1) don't be ugly and 2) if you insist upon being ugly, save a child's life.
In one brief scene Victor's parents very nearly arrive at the question of the morality of playing God but never quite get there. Then again, the entire Disney empire is built upon the notion that you can take powerful, primal storytelling (Grimm's and Han Christian Anderson's fairy tales, Kipling, et cetera) and translate that into something palatable for a mass audience, often retaining a large degree of artisitc merit in the process. In other words, it is an inevitable and entitely acceptable whitewash.
OVERALL: ***/5 but be warned that this short film is complete and utter fluff, as per the Tim Burton oeuvre.
Monday, October 20, 2008
Day 20: BRIDE OF FRANKENSTEIN (1935)
Watching James Whale's 1935 follow-up to the hugely successful FRANKENSTEIN (1931), one is astonished to discover just how many classic elements of Frankenstein lore derive from this film and not the original. The girl thrown in the lake and the torch-carrying villagers chasing the monster to his doom were all there from the beginning but the remainder did not arrive on the scene until four year years later. The infamous white streak, the blind old man and grunting monster with the Hulk's vocabulary, among others, make their first appearance here. Like Frankenstein's eponymous monster itself, the film was not truly complete until it met its bride.
For this reason, and more immediately because the film begins at the moment the original ends, it is impossible to view either in isolation. (The brilliant manner in which GODS & MONSTERS [1997] weaved threads from both into the life of their director & the way in which Mel Brooks took them as an interchangeable whole from which to mine comedy gold also add to the inseparability.) Together, the first two Universal Frankenstein films form what may be the perfect horror film.
This meta-film has everything one desires in a creature feature, late at night when your house starts making odd noises and all the lights are off: Mad scientists! Deformed assistants! Monsters! Defiance of the Gods! Villagers chasing people or things with torches! Unrequited love! Evil doppelgangers! Thunderstorms bellowing outside a spooky old castle! Germans!
The prologue, depicting the origin of the novel and also acting to recap the previous film, gives away the game: Mary Shelly admits it is a story about a man who dares to play God. (And you said I was just making this up as I go along...)
This film, working through an alternate version of that theme, introduces an evil twin to Baron Frankenstein (Colin Clive) in the form of Doctor Pretorius (Ernest Thesiger).
While Frankenstein seeks to play God by first creating Adam/the monster (Boris Karloff), then Eve/the monster's bride (Elsa Lanchester) with Doctor Pretorius' urging and assistance. Notably, Doctor Pretorius plays God at firsy by recreating contemporary society in its imperfect whole. They are not an innocent childlike brutes like Frankenstein's monster existing in a state of nature, but rather kings, queens, archbishops and preening ballerinas, replicating the vices of modern societies. He attempts to seduce Baron Frankenstein to the sordid, tyrannical side of this role by displaying miniature human beings in glass jars, whom he taunts like a cat dangling a mouse. One imagines that Frankenstein was in the God business with much better intentions than that, or at least he possessed a misguided adherence to science over faith.
Doctor Pretorius first enters the film dressed in black and lurking in the shadows, a foreboding presence. Perhpas I make too much of the fact that he enters this appearance immediately after Frankenstein's fiancee declares these expiriments in tinkering with life and death as the work of the devil but Pretorius himself declares that these two scientists are meant to be taken by the audience as a modern God and Satan, dueling over a new dawn of man represented by the monster. The doctor is definitely a villain in this film, and Frankenstein an ambiguous, if not redeemed figure.
OVERALL: ****/5 on its own or a perfect *****/5 as a double feature with FRANKENSTEIN (1931). Not including the bonus points for implied necrophilia, which... how did that get past the censors? I would definitely like to see that memo.
For this reason, and more immediately because the film begins at the moment the original ends, it is impossible to view either in isolation. (The brilliant manner in which GODS & MONSTERS [1997] weaved threads from both into the life of their director & the way in which Mel Brooks took them as an interchangeable whole from which to mine comedy gold also add to the inseparability.) Together, the first two Universal Frankenstein films form what may be the perfect horror film.
This meta-film has everything one desires in a creature feature, late at night when your house starts making odd noises and all the lights are off: Mad scientists! Deformed assistants! Monsters! Defiance of the Gods! Villagers chasing people or things with torches! Unrequited love! Evil doppelgangers! Thunderstorms bellowing outside a spooky old castle! Germans!
The prologue, depicting the origin of the novel and also acting to recap the previous film, gives away the game: Mary Shelly admits it is a story about a man who dares to play God. (And you said I was just making this up as I go along...)
This film, working through an alternate version of that theme, introduces an evil twin to Baron Frankenstein (Colin Clive) in the form of Doctor Pretorius (Ernest Thesiger).
While Frankenstein seeks to play God by first creating Adam/the monster (Boris Karloff), then Eve/the monster's bride (Elsa Lanchester) with Doctor Pretorius' urging and assistance. Notably, Doctor Pretorius plays God at firsy by recreating contemporary society in its imperfect whole. They are not an innocent childlike brutes like Frankenstein's monster existing in a state of nature, but rather kings, queens, archbishops and preening ballerinas, replicating the vices of modern societies. He attempts to seduce Baron Frankenstein to the sordid, tyrannical side of this role by displaying miniature human beings in glass jars, whom he taunts like a cat dangling a mouse. One imagines that Frankenstein was in the God business with much better intentions than that, or at least he possessed a misguided adherence to science over faith.
Doctor Pretorius first enters the film dressed in black and lurking in the shadows, a foreboding presence. Perhpas I make too much of the fact that he enters this appearance immediately after Frankenstein's fiancee declares these expiriments in tinkering with life and death as the work of the devil but Pretorius himself declares that these two scientists are meant to be taken by the audience as a modern God and Satan, dueling over a new dawn of man represented by the monster. The doctor is definitely a villain in this film, and Frankenstein an ambiguous, if not redeemed figure.
OVERALL: ****/5 on its own or a perfect *****/5 as a double feature with FRANKENSTEIN (1931). Not including the bonus points for implied necrophilia, which... how did that get past the censors? I would definitely like to see that memo.
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Day 18: MST3K: Manos: The Hands of Fate
This picture says all I need to say.This movie is great.
This character, Torgo(pictured above) is great.
5 Torgo theme musics out of 5 Torgo theme musics
P.S. Never see this movie on its own. Only watch the Mystery Science Theater 3000 DVD that its on.
Friday, October 17, 2008
Day 17: Resident Evil, Resident Evil: Apocalypse, Resident Evil: Extinction
Unlike most zombie fans, I was not brought into the genre by George Romero. My zombie love started in 8th grade when I picked up a game called Resident Evil 2. It had everything: an evil corporation, a corrupt pedophile mayor, lots of crazy weapons, and most importantly, a city under siege by zombies and other biological monstrosities. This was my first real exposure to the walking dead and I was hooked.
In 1998 when the game came out, there was a contest to win a walk on role in a Resident Evil movie. The first draft was worked on by none other than George Romero, of Night of the Living Dead, Dawn of the Dead, and Day of the Dead fame. I didn't know his films, but I knew his reputation. I figured if it was safe in anyone's hands it was him. Unfortunately, the powers that be didn't see it that way, and he was removed from the project for his script being "too close to the game." That is the biggest problem with video game and comic book movie adaptations. For some reason, the source material is almost always completely disregarded.
The first Resident Evil film is a very loose adaptation of the game. All it pretty much has in common is the setting, the villain: The Umbrella Corporation, and the cause of the zombies: the T-Virus. The T-Virus, in both game and film, was designed to reanimate dead cells, and was intended for use as a bio weapon. They unleash it in a city, let the residents kill each other. That's essentially what happens in the sequel, Resident Evil: Apocalypse. Now while Apocalypse does fall in line a little closer with the plots of the games Resident Evil 2 & 3, it still only incorporates a few of the characters, in minor roles. No, the biggest departure in all the films is the character of Alice, played by Milla Jovavich. Alice evolves from a normal ass kicking, zombie killing rebel against the Umbrella Corporation in the first film, to a rebellious super powered bio weapon in the second and third films.
That's right, whereas in the games, you were a normal cop against undead hordes, in the movies, the heroine has super fast reflexes and...wait for it...telekenisis. It comes out of nowhere at the end of the second film, when Alice delivers an aneurism to a guard monitoring her. It is a true "What the Fuck?" moment. In fact, the first two films, are filled with "What the Fuck?" moments which are really jarring and keep me from fully enjoying them.
However, when we get to the third film in the series, Extinction, that is where they embrace "What the Fuck?" They take all the best ideas from Day of the Dead and Dawn of the Dead(2004) like mad scientists who think they can domesticate the zombies, and convoys of armored vehicles and unleash them in a bleak, post-apocalyptic, Western America. There are hillbillies who get their kicks making people fight zombie dogs, there are zombie crows, and best of all, there are zombies unleashed by the Umbrella Corporation in matching jumpsuits. That means that some poor fuck has the job of not only corralling the zombies, but dressing them too. And these aren't just any old zombies, these are essentially zombies that have been shot up with meth. And they fuck shit up.
That is where Extinction truly succeeds. It breaks through the mediocrity of the first two films by really just fucking shit up. Not only did they amp up the action, but they also brought up the credibility of the film by incorporating some Romero-esque themes: Playing God, Everyone in Authority is an Asshole, etc. They raised the stakes by putting their characters in a world where the living are the minority, their only hope a pipe dream of an uninfected town in Alaska. Its the first film where the characters are doing more than simply trying to survive, they're struggling to want to survive. And they're not just up against zombies, but the remnants of a corporation still trying to keep its grip on a dead planet.
Resident Evil: 2 braiiins out of 5 braiiins
Resident Evil: Apocalypse: 3 braiiins out of 5 braiins
Resident Evil: Extinction: 4 braiins out of 5 braiins
Extinction also gets a bonus 1/2 braiiins for its ending which sets up another film: Hundreds of super-powered Alice clones vs the remnants of the Umbrella Corporation and all the zombies left on the world. If it follows the pattern so far, the next one will be even better than the last.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Day 16: FRANKENSTEIN (1931)
I. A GRAVEN IMAGE
If one must approach the Dracula myth with a thesis, this is no less true with Frankenstein films. Unlike the former however, the latter have tended from the very beginning to approach directly their underlying themes, namely, the folly of Man playing God.
Why this result occurs, I cannot say for sure. My best guess is that you will run into problems with the censors if you make a film that is obsessed with bodily fluids. Any vampire film will have blood to start and the better ones will get most of the other excretions in there as well. A Frankenstein film does not absolutely require anything of the sort. (Keep in mind, I have never seen the Warhol factory product FLESH OF FRANKENSTEIN [1973].)
Alternately, there is the possibility that the West, as a culture, is incapable of reconciling the ideas of God's plan and human free will. This conflict tends to show up in the popular media. If I may play pop psychologist, and for what its worth I have been playing that role all along in my reviews, I am referring to the possibility that our culture is fascinated by the prospect that man can, variously: a) overcome death and b) create life.
After all, it was not for nothing that Mary Shelly's novel was subtitled 'modern Prometheus.' That refers, of course, to the Greek myth of Prometheus. To reduce that myth to its essential elements is as follows. Prometheus steals fire from the Gods and gives it to mankind. For this transgression, either purely as punishment for his actions or because man was not supposed to have this gift, he is chained to a rock where, every once in a while, Zeus comes by in the form of a bird and feasts upon Prometheus' innards. (Its been a slow progression in Greek cuisine to arrive at the gyro.)
I will assume that everyone is familiar enough with the Frankenstein mythos that I can avoid recapping the plot and pointing out the obvious parallels. The 'modern Prometheus' of the novel refers clearly to Doctor Frankenstein himself, not his famous monster. How dare this scientist, this mere mortal, interfere with the province of Gods by creating life himself?
II. THROW THE SWITCH
So, with that out of the way, it is time to address some specifics on James Whale's first Frankenstein film in particular.
The film proper opens with a priest reciting a prayer in Latin at a funeral. Dr. Frankenstein and Fritz hide in the shadows, waiting to steal a fresh corpse. Immediately, the conflict between God and man has been introduced into the narrative.
Another riff on the Prometheus myth is the infamous torch-bearing mob at the end of the film. Possibly. It could also be reading too much into the use of fire here, which may not be an intentional echo.
Its also interesting that the monster (Boris Karloff) is, alternately, primitive and childlike. In the novel the monster can speak, and his profit on it is that he can then lecture Doctor Frankenstein. The monster in the novel does not shut up. He is kind of a jerk with all the philosophizing, actually.
Both interpretations play off the central theme of the Frankenstein myth in different ways, the novel being didactic and the film being allegorical. This split plays to the respective strengths of each format. Each genre within the format, too. Shelly wrote a Romantic novel, which accounts for the verbiage. Whale directed a mass market horror film, albeit one which rises far above the typical schlock of the era.
Yet, for some reason, the Universal film interpretation has become dominant in popular culture. Karloff's portrayal might play a role in that. His Frankenstein's monster possesses a degree of physicality, of menace, of danger and vulnerability exceeding Bela Lugosi's Dracula, a performance which was excellent and iconic but one-dimensional.
III. WELL, WELL, WELL... WHAT'S ALL THIS?
OVERALL: ****/5 on its own but, as we will discover in my next review, a perfect *****/5 when taken together with BRIDE OF FRANKENSTEIN (1935). Both skillfully shot and innovative.
If one must approach the Dracula myth with a thesis, this is no less true with Frankenstein films. Unlike the former however, the latter have tended from the very beginning to approach directly their underlying themes, namely, the folly of Man playing God.
Why this result occurs, I cannot say for sure. My best guess is that you will run into problems with the censors if you make a film that is obsessed with bodily fluids. Any vampire film will have blood to start and the better ones will get most of the other excretions in there as well. A Frankenstein film does not absolutely require anything of the sort. (Keep in mind, I have never seen the Warhol factory product FLESH OF FRANKENSTEIN [1973].)
Alternately, there is the possibility that the West, as a culture, is incapable of reconciling the ideas of God's plan and human free will. This conflict tends to show up in the popular media. If I may play pop psychologist, and for what its worth I have been playing that role all along in my reviews, I am referring to the possibility that our culture is fascinated by the prospect that man can, variously: a) overcome death and b) create life.
After all, it was not for nothing that Mary Shelly's novel was subtitled 'modern Prometheus.' That refers, of course, to the Greek myth of Prometheus. To reduce that myth to its essential elements is as follows. Prometheus steals fire from the Gods and gives it to mankind. For this transgression, either purely as punishment for his actions or because man was not supposed to have this gift, he is chained to a rock where, every once in a while, Zeus comes by in the form of a bird and feasts upon Prometheus' innards. (Its been a slow progression in Greek cuisine to arrive at the gyro.)
I will assume that everyone is familiar enough with the Frankenstein mythos that I can avoid recapping the plot and pointing out the obvious parallels. The 'modern Prometheus' of the novel refers clearly to Doctor Frankenstein himself, not his famous monster. How dare this scientist, this mere mortal, interfere with the province of Gods by creating life himself?
II. THROW THE SWITCH
So, with that out of the way, it is time to address some specifics on James Whale's first Frankenstein film in particular.
The film proper opens with a priest reciting a prayer in Latin at a funeral. Dr. Frankenstein and Fritz hide in the shadows, waiting to steal a fresh corpse. Immediately, the conflict between God and man has been introduced into the narrative.
Another riff on the Prometheus myth is the infamous torch-bearing mob at the end of the film. Possibly. It could also be reading too much into the use of fire here, which may not be an intentional echo.
Its also interesting that the monster (Boris Karloff) is, alternately, primitive and childlike. In the novel the monster can speak, and his profit on it is that he can then lecture Doctor Frankenstein. The monster in the novel does not shut up. He is kind of a jerk with all the philosophizing, actually.
Both interpretations play off the central theme of the Frankenstein myth in different ways, the novel being didactic and the film being allegorical. This split plays to the respective strengths of each format. Each genre within the format, too. Shelly wrote a Romantic novel, which accounts for the verbiage. Whale directed a mass market horror film, albeit one which rises far above the typical schlock of the era.
Yet, for some reason, the Universal film interpretation has become dominant in popular culture. Karloff's portrayal might play a role in that. His Frankenstein's monster possesses a degree of physicality, of menace, of danger and vulnerability exceeding Bela Lugosi's Dracula, a performance which was excellent and iconic but one-dimensional.
III. WELL, WELL, WELL... WHAT'S ALL THIS?
OVERALL: ****/5 on its own but, as we will discover in my next review, a perfect *****/5 when taken together with BRIDE OF FRANKENSTEIN (1935). Both skillfully shot and innovative.
Day 15 Redux: NOCHNOY DOZOR (2004)
For those of you who do not speak Russian, that's NIGHT WATCH by director Timor Bekmambetov. I was intrigued by this film because I had, apparently in error, assumed it was the inspiration for the song "Night Man," written by Charlie on IT'S ALWAYS SUNNY IN PHILADELPHIA.
Kidding, of course. The reason I sought out this film was because I greatly enjoyed Bekmambetov's first English language work, WANTED (2008), which was loosely based on an even more lossely plotted comic book series by Mark Millar. Like that film, NIGHT WATCH is high on awesome but low on substance. So much so, in fact, that after about twenty-five minutes I had gotten the gist of it and was not at all motivated to carry on with the rest.
From what I could gather, in ye olde times, the forces of Good and the forces of Evil roamed the earth. Then, in order to prevent mutually assured destruction, they called a truce. This truce is enforced by... vampires? Or people with random powers that are all called vampires for some reason? In either case, its an excuse for cool camera angles and action sequences and stuff exploding. (I did not personally witness any explosions in the roughly one-fourth of the film I watched but I assume that eventually some explosions ensued. Safe bet.)
Let me stress that I am not accusing this of being a bad film. With the caveat that you understand its the cinema equivalent of cotton candy, it s a perfectly plausible was to spend a couple hours. I just was not in the mood for it at the time.
OVERALL: I did not bother to finish watching this film, so I have no right to give it a review. Instead, let me take this opportunity to rate Vladimir Putin's recently released judo instructional video. While I have not seen that either, I prospectively give it *****/5 Resurgent Evil Empires.
Kidding, of course. The reason I sought out this film was because I greatly enjoyed Bekmambetov's first English language work, WANTED (2008), which was loosely based on an even more lossely plotted comic book series by Mark Millar. Like that film, NIGHT WATCH is high on awesome but low on substance. So much so, in fact, that after about twenty-five minutes I had gotten the gist of it and was not at all motivated to carry on with the rest.
From what I could gather, in ye olde times, the forces of Good and the forces of Evil roamed the earth. Then, in order to prevent mutually assured destruction, they called a truce. This truce is enforced by... vampires? Or people with random powers that are all called vampires for some reason? In either case, its an excuse for cool camera angles and action sequences and stuff exploding. (I did not personally witness any explosions in the roughly one-fourth of the film I watched but I assume that eventually some explosions ensued. Safe bet.)
Let me stress that I am not accusing this of being a bad film. With the caveat that you understand its the cinema equivalent of cotton candy, it s a perfectly plausible was to spend a couple hours. I just was not in the mood for it at the time.
OVERALL: I did not bother to finish watching this film, so I have no right to give it a review. Instead, let me take this opportunity to rate Vladimir Putin's recently released judo instructional video. While I have not seen that either, I prospectively give it *****/5 Resurgent Evil Empires.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Day 14: Slither
Or What's the deal with horror audiences?
An important thing for me in a horror movie is the presence of humor, a balance and compliment to the gore and scariness. The worst thing the horror genre can do is to take itself too seriously. Yet the main audience for horror, douchey teens, isn't looking for that. They want whatever has one or two of the latest teen stars, probably from High School Musical or Gossip Girl, its usually a slasher film, nothing supernatural, and will probably be rated PG-13. That is the kind of horror movie that makes money these days.* And I don't understand why, when people like James Gunn are putting out quality films like Slither.
A brief disclaimer, this is more a "here are things that are great about this" than an actual review.
Slither is a love letter to the films of John Carpenter, Fred Dekker, and most of the brand of horror that came out in the late 70's into the 80's. The mayor is named Jack MacReady after Kurt Russell's character in The Thing. The worms of extraterrestrial origin that "slither" into peoples bodies turning them into zombies of sorts is reminiscent of Dekker's Night of the Creeps, and the humor in the film has its inspiration in both these directors as well as Lloyd Kaufman, founder of Troma.
The plot is this, a meteor crashes to earth, unleashing some small gelatinous creature, which stings local pervy old guy, Grant Grant. He is then taken over by the creature and its need to procreate. He kidnaps a young woman, feeds her raw meat and she explodes sending out little worm things that take over people with the alien consciousness resulting in them becoming hive mind zombie type creatures. Eventually, it comes down to police chief Bill Pardy; Starla Grant, Grant Grant's wife and Pardy's unrequited love; and a hot teenage girl; to stop Grant/alien monster from taking over the world.
Nathan Fillion of Firefly and Two Guys, a Girl, and a Pizza Place fame, plays police chief Bill Pardy. Like his role as Captain Mal Reynolds on Firefly, Fillion, as Pardy, is someone who's a good mixture of badass and goofball. Much like Harrison Ford when he's on his game. Michael Rooker, as Grant Grant, brings a good mix of the funny and the creepy as well. Never again will I hear someone say "meat" without thinking of him saying "MEAT." And Gregg Henry as the mayor hilariously curses his whole way through the movie. He says "Fuck" enough times to earn the R rating without any of the guts.
Also great is the song "Baby I Love You" by the Yayhoos which plays over the credits. Download it right away, it's awesome.
Now, while I do believe Slither to be worth 5 out of 5 hive mind zombie creatures, I will subtract half a zombie creature for its lack of nudity. If you're getting an R rating anyway, you might as well throw in some sweet boobs.**
*I know Saw has been successful, but I haven't bothered to see any of those films, thus it is irrelevant to me.
** Pronounced "sweet bewbs" as per the 6th graders on South Park
4 1/2 out of 5 hive mind zombie creatures
Monday, October 13, 2008
Day 13: DRACULA: DEAD & LOVING IT (1995)
The poster art and timing would leave one to believe this is a spoof of Coppola's Dracula film. However, aside from a few easy marks (e.g. the hair & the shadow descending the staircase shot), in most respects this is based off of the 1931 version in the same manner that Mel Brooks' earlier skewering of Frankenstein was a spoof of the Universal classics. That being said, knowledge of basic Dracula lore is sufficient to enjoy this film. Indeed, this film does not reward familiarity with the source material in the same way that the superior YOUNG FRANKENSTEIN (1974) does.
I am somewhat torn on that subject. I think its hugely unfair to measure this film against early Brooks (the above named film, GET SMART, BLAZING SADDLES, et cetera). That's not to say that one should not consider his directorial efforts as whole, an approach which is entirely warranted in most cases. The problem is that so much of his early work receives praise which makes later films hard to compare against. After viewing this film, I came to the conclusion that it would be held in much higher esteem if: 1) YOUNG FRANKENSTEIN did not exist and 2) it was not simply another Leslie Nielson spoof.
I will approach the latter reservation first. Leslie Nielson is a fine comic talent, no disputing that. His pratfalls and reaction shots reach the pinnacle of the form. To my mind, however, his presence here detracted from the overall product because he plays it how he always does, rather than a performance tailored specifically to Dracula. Bela Lugosi, Christopher Lee and Gary Oldman are all ripe for parody; Nielson takes on the Hungarian accent and leaves it at that.
Now, to the former reservation. There is no doubt that this film is inferior to YOUNG FRANKENSTEIN. Nielson, as noted, cannot match Peter Boyle interpreting Boris Karloff. Neither can Peter MacNichol as Renfield match Gene Wilder nor Amy Yasbeck match Terri Garr. We can continue in this vein as we scroll down the credits, but you certainly get the point. There is comedic talent on display here but not, you know, comedic talent. I could chalk that one up to preference but I doubt there would be serious dispute on which film has the heavy hitters.
Continuing on this point, what disappointed me most was that Brooks here failed to shoot the film in black & white. Every time an establishing shot popped up in the familiar palette only to go to television-grade cinematography, my hopes were dashed. Was he trying to avoid the inevitable comparisons to YOUNG FRANKENSTEIN? Because they were inevitable, really, if that was the purpose then it was for nought. It would have given the proceedings a dose of authenticity to play against the silliness of the plot, enriching the overall product. (See also: the washed out color palette of BLAZING SADDLES, mirroring classic Westerns.) Not only was opportunity missed by shooting in color, he also opted against using a lot of deep blacks and low light, which would have at least brought to mind other vampire movies. As it remains, it looks indistinguishable from how one would approach a romantic comedy or any other genre devoid of noticeable atmospherics.
Sadly, there is little to discuss in terms of the sexuality inherent in the Dracula myth as presented in this film. Mina Harker vamps it up to the chagrin of her reserved English fiancee after having been bit, which is a funny scene. Of course, Terri Garr did the same thing, better, after experiencing the monster's, ahem, monster in YOUNG FRANKENSTEIN. (Come to think of it, so did Madeleine Kahn in BLAZING SADDLES.) The oversexed female is a go-to comedic concept for the director, and for pretty much everyone else. But, hey, the film still made a better effort to explore the subject than Hammer Films!
So, even though I made a noble effort to compartmentalize this film from Brooks' earlier, superior efforts I was still a bit disappointed. Not to say this is an unfunny experience, by no means. It is definitely worth viewing for some inspired gags--more than you would find in any spoof film in the past two and a half decades or so.
OVERALL: **/5 in the Mel Brooks canon but ***/5 when measured against spoof films in general.
Well, this is going to be my last Dracula-related review for now, which is bittersweet. On one hand, I do get some nice symmetry by starting with DRACULA (1931) and ending with its spoof. On the other hand, I would have liked to hit on other important films, such as NOSFERATU (1922) and BRAM STOKER'S DRACULA (1992), as well as a couple of the later Universal films. Further, in the larger scope, its impossible to advance my thesis on the eroticism of the vampire myth using this film. Perhaps I'll return to the subject later.
For now, however, I'll be moving on to a series on on Frankenstein. Tentatively, the lineup is as follows:
FRANKENSTEIN (1931)
BRIDE OF FRANKENSTEIN (1935)
EDWARD SCISSORHANDS (1990)
FRANKENWEENIE (1984) (short film)
YOUNG FRANKENSTEIN (1974)
You might spot some parallels between that list and the choice for the Dracula series. To my knowledge, Hammer never attempted a Frankenstein film; if I am in error on that fact, I will attempt to locate that film. I may also add Kenneth Branagh's MARY SHELLY'S FRANKENSTEIN (1994), which I have never seen. Look for that in the remaining days of October.
I am somewhat torn on that subject. I think its hugely unfair to measure this film against early Brooks (the above named film, GET SMART, BLAZING SADDLES, et cetera). That's not to say that one should not consider his directorial efforts as whole, an approach which is entirely warranted in most cases. The problem is that so much of his early work receives praise which makes later films hard to compare against. After viewing this film, I came to the conclusion that it would be held in much higher esteem if: 1) YOUNG FRANKENSTEIN did not exist and 2) it was not simply another Leslie Nielson spoof.
I will approach the latter reservation first. Leslie Nielson is a fine comic talent, no disputing that. His pratfalls and reaction shots reach the pinnacle of the form. To my mind, however, his presence here detracted from the overall product because he plays it how he always does, rather than a performance tailored specifically to Dracula. Bela Lugosi, Christopher Lee and Gary Oldman are all ripe for parody; Nielson takes on the Hungarian accent and leaves it at that.
Now, to the former reservation. There is no doubt that this film is inferior to YOUNG FRANKENSTEIN. Nielson, as noted, cannot match Peter Boyle interpreting Boris Karloff. Neither can Peter MacNichol as Renfield match Gene Wilder nor Amy Yasbeck match Terri Garr. We can continue in this vein as we scroll down the credits, but you certainly get the point. There is comedic talent on display here but not, you know, comedic talent. I could chalk that one up to preference but I doubt there would be serious dispute on which film has the heavy hitters.
Continuing on this point, what disappointed me most was that Brooks here failed to shoot the film in black & white. Every time an establishing shot popped up in the familiar palette only to go to television-grade cinematography, my hopes were dashed. Was he trying to avoid the inevitable comparisons to YOUNG FRANKENSTEIN? Because they were inevitable, really, if that was the purpose then it was for nought. It would have given the proceedings a dose of authenticity to play against the silliness of the plot, enriching the overall product. (See also: the washed out color palette of BLAZING SADDLES, mirroring classic Westerns.) Not only was opportunity missed by shooting in color, he also opted against using a lot of deep blacks and low light, which would have at least brought to mind other vampire movies. As it remains, it looks indistinguishable from how one would approach a romantic comedy or any other genre devoid of noticeable atmospherics.
Sadly, there is little to discuss in terms of the sexuality inherent in the Dracula myth as presented in this film. Mina Harker vamps it up to the chagrin of her reserved English fiancee after having been bit, which is a funny scene. Of course, Terri Garr did the same thing, better, after experiencing the monster's, ahem, monster in YOUNG FRANKENSTEIN. (Come to think of it, so did Madeleine Kahn in BLAZING SADDLES.) The oversexed female is a go-to comedic concept for the director, and for pretty much everyone else. But, hey, the film still made a better effort to explore the subject than Hammer Films!
So, even though I made a noble effort to compartmentalize this film from Brooks' earlier, superior efforts I was still a bit disappointed. Not to say this is an unfunny experience, by no means. It is definitely worth viewing for some inspired gags--more than you would find in any spoof film in the past two and a half decades or so.
OVERALL: **/5 in the Mel Brooks canon but ***/5 when measured against spoof films in general.
* * *
Well, this is going to be my last Dracula-related review for now, which is bittersweet. On one hand, I do get some nice symmetry by starting with DRACULA (1931) and ending with its spoof. On the other hand, I would have liked to hit on other important films, such as NOSFERATU (1922) and BRAM STOKER'S DRACULA (1992), as well as a couple of the later Universal films. Further, in the larger scope, its impossible to advance my thesis on the eroticism of the vampire myth using this film. Perhaps I'll return to the subject later.
For now, however, I'll be moving on to a series on on Frankenstein. Tentatively, the lineup is as follows:
FRANKENSTEIN (1931)
BRIDE OF FRANKENSTEIN (1935)
EDWARD SCISSORHANDS (1990)
FRANKENWEENIE (1984) (short film)
YOUNG FRANKENSTEIN (1974)
You might spot some parallels between that list and the choice for the Dracula series. To my knowledge, Hammer never attempted a Frankenstein film; if I am in error on that fact, I will attempt to locate that film. I may also add Kenneth Branagh's MARY SHELLY'S FRANKENSTEIN (1994), which I have never seen. Look for that in the remaining days of October.
Friday, October 10, 2008
Day 10: House of the Dead an Uwe Boll Film
Back in 2003, things were pretty good. I was in my formative years of college, those lovable losers the Tampa Bay Buccaneers won their first Superbowl, and a little gem of a film named House of the Dead was released.
I can remember my excitement in learning that a film would be based upon one of my favorite arcade shooters, the aptly titled House of the Dead. A game with little to no story line aside from vaguely police like people shooting zombies through the skull with high caliber bullets. It was being brought to life by director Uwe Boll whose list of accomplishments simply distort space-time with their greatness. Who can’t remember the first time they enjoyed German Fried Movie? I for one cannot. But, of course, we are talking about me and my perverted movie going pleasures. So this whole genocide of celluloid was something I would have to watch (and later own on DVD).
In the theater with me were two of my good friends and one lone child with his mother. It was the films opening day. Popcorn, nachos, and large cups full of blue colored (and flavored) ice were in our hands dripping with glistening condensation. This movie was going to be enjoyed, swallowed, and ingested. The lights dimmed and we fell silent. What transpired over the next 90 minutes was absolutely inspired.
Teen party seekers/adventurers bribe a shady tugboat captain to take them to a haunted island where the “Rave of the Century” is being thrown by Sega (the videogame developer). The one girl with a nice rack decides to get the party started early and takes her top off on the boat. So far, so good.
When they arrive on the island the supposed greatest party ever turns out to be massively underwhelming, as in there’s nobody there. What could have happened to them? Where are these supposed hundreds of party goers? Who cares, its time to skinny dip!
So we skip ahead over some boring and incoherent scenes featuring our rag tag group and end up in zombie heaven. The captain turns out to be an illegal arms smuggler and has a crate full of automatic weapons and shotguns that never need reloading. So our heroes each pick up their weapon of choice and master it in the very next scene.
The next scene, which is my favorite scene, features our heroes slaughtering zombies while trying to get to a house (presumably of the dead). This takes roughly 10 minutes. Every shot fired is a head shot. Every intense face is in slow motion. There is even a high-speed 360° shot of every character doing their best Matrix impression. On the DVD commentary, Uwe Boll informs us that this effect was achieved by having a camera spun around the actors at really high speeds. So dangerous was this technique that it’s never been used again. Boll used it nearly at least 8 times. All of those times, are in this one scene.
Now they make it to the house, but not without casualties. They figure out what pesky experiments have caused this outbreak and attempt to set them right. Now I won’t spoil the end for you, but if you were hoping for a zombie sword fight you’ll be extremely happy.
So should you see this film? Well there’s a lot of gore, that’s cool. The zombie makeup is decent, but nothing spectacular. Gun’s? Check. Swords? Check. Boobs? Check. Plot? Not so much. Did I mention they cut together action scenes with actual game play footage? Awesome.
It’s tough to sit through alone. This is an experience to share with someone you love. Or someone you hate. Or maybe your infant cousin. Either way, you should be in for a decent time provided you have enough snacks (and a board game for the boring parts). Just remember that this is a video game based zombie movie directed by an amateur German boxer.
1 out of 5 squib explosions.
(5 out of 5 awesomely bad squib explosions)
I can remember my excitement in learning that a film would be based upon one of my favorite arcade shooters, the aptly titled House of the Dead. A game with little to no story line aside from vaguely police like people shooting zombies through the skull with high caliber bullets. It was being brought to life by director Uwe Boll whose list of accomplishments simply distort space-time with their greatness. Who can’t remember the first time they enjoyed German Fried Movie? I for one cannot. But, of course, we are talking about me and my perverted movie going pleasures. So this whole genocide of celluloid was something I would have to watch (and later own on DVD).
In the theater with me were two of my good friends and one lone child with his mother. It was the films opening day. Popcorn, nachos, and large cups full of blue colored (and flavored) ice were in our hands dripping with glistening condensation. This movie was going to be enjoyed, swallowed, and ingested. The lights dimmed and we fell silent. What transpired over the next 90 minutes was absolutely inspired.
Teen party seekers/adventurers bribe a shady tugboat captain to take them to a haunted island where the “Rave of the Century” is being thrown by Sega (the videogame developer). The one girl with a nice rack decides to get the party started early and takes her top off on the boat. So far, so good.
When they arrive on the island the supposed greatest party ever turns out to be massively underwhelming, as in there’s nobody there. What could have happened to them? Where are these supposed hundreds of party goers? Who cares, its time to skinny dip!
So we skip ahead over some boring and incoherent scenes featuring our rag tag group and end up in zombie heaven. The captain turns out to be an illegal arms smuggler and has a crate full of automatic weapons and shotguns that never need reloading. So our heroes each pick up their weapon of choice and master it in the very next scene.
The next scene, which is my favorite scene, features our heroes slaughtering zombies while trying to get to a house (presumably of the dead). This takes roughly 10 minutes. Every shot fired is a head shot. Every intense face is in slow motion. There is even a high-speed 360° shot of every character doing their best Matrix impression. On the DVD commentary, Uwe Boll informs us that this effect was achieved by having a camera spun around the actors at really high speeds. So dangerous was this technique that it’s never been used again. Boll used it nearly at least 8 times. All of those times, are in this one scene.
Now they make it to the house, but not without casualties. They figure out what pesky experiments have caused this outbreak and attempt to set them right. Now I won’t spoil the end for you, but if you were hoping for a zombie sword fight you’ll be extremely happy.
So should you see this film? Well there’s a lot of gore, that’s cool. The zombie makeup is decent, but nothing spectacular. Gun’s? Check. Swords? Check. Boobs? Check. Plot? Not so much. Did I mention they cut together action scenes with actual game play footage? Awesome.
It’s tough to sit through alone. This is an experience to share with someone you love. Or someone you hate. Or maybe your infant cousin. Either way, you should be in for a decent time provided you have enough snacks (and a board game for the boring parts). Just remember that this is a video game based zombie movie directed by an amateur German boxer.
1 out of 5 squib explosions.
(5 out of 5 awesomely bad squib explosions)
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Day 9: HORROR OF DRACULA (1958)
This seminal Hammer horror film--the description that accompanies the film from iTunes credits it with single-handedly reviving the genre, a historical fact I have no cause to dispute--hews closely to the Bram Stoker source material in some respects but departs from it in others. For one, Jonathon Harker travels to Dracula's castle knowing he is a vampire and seeking to destroy him rather than being the hapless real estate agent of the original, but this change does little to alter the course of events which follow. If anything, it is merely an early signifier that this is a horror film. In terms of my ongoing inquiry into the sexual undertones of the Dracula myth, however, it does little to advance the thesis.
Some erotic elements are present, if only barely. As Dracula bears down on Mina (or possibly Lucy, I got distractedly bored quite a few times while watching this film) some tender kisses on the cheek and neck preclude his savage bite. That's about it, to my memory. Nary a torn bodice in sight.
I am not entirely sure what this reserved stature is a function of specifically. It could be either: A) this is a British film or B) it relies too heavily on presenting a literal translation of the novel.
In support of Option A, let us be clear, it is very British. Exceedingly so. Christopher Lee as Dracula and Peter Cushing as Van Helsing practically re-invent the term "stiff upper lip" in their respective performances here. This heavily British approach to the material also reflects on the mildness of the horror elements to the story. As Dracula, Lee's upper crust Anglo demeanor is no match for Bela Legosi's Hungarian exoticism. Here, the Count is far likelier sneer at an unlucky street urchin than tear his jugular out. In fact, the first victim when he arrives in the city is indeed a street urchin.
In support of Option B, the film adheres to the Gothic novel aesthetic. For those of you who are aware of the term but lack specifics, allow me to explain what it meant originally, rather than its modern re-interpretation. First, take whichever Jane Austen or Bronte sisters novel you were assigned to read in high school. I am going to use Wuthering Heights for the sake of example. Now, remove all references to contemporary social mores and marital customs. Replace that text with explorations of, primarily, Germanic or Slavic folklore. Finally, give Heathcliff fangs/lycanthropy/consumption and a creepy old house. That is a Gothic novel, even if that is an extremely reductive description.
Not to be dismissive of Stoker's novel, of course. The problem resides in transmitting that form to the screen. Here and most elsewhere, the result is flat except in the hands of the most exceptional filmmakers (i.e. David Lean & Ang Lee). Long narrative passages about deep, unfulfilled longing make for great reading. Numerous close-ups of actors conveying that feeling by pursing their lips and half-closing their eyes not so much. Therefore, the horror or erotic subtext, in the most entertaining films, needs to be accentuated and brought to the surface. Tod Browning chose horror, Francis Ford Coppola chose to wallow in eroticism and dabble in horror.
It seems as if the director, Terence Fisher, chose very modest portions of both. I have already noted the minimal extent of the sexual elements in this film. The opening titles, which feature bright red rivulets of blood dripping onto Dracula's coffin, make a promise of horror to come which the story never actually fulfills. As the film proceeds, Dracula is not at all menacing. If anything, he's just kind of a dick. Although the final sequence where Van Helsing hunts the vampire is extended compared to the 1931 version, and as noted the Dracula hunting mission is telegraphed from the outset, it somehow manages to disappoint. There is no more tension here than in the dull thud of the climax to Browning's film.
Perhaps the later Hammer horror films featuring Lee, Cushing and Vincent Price are the classics which I have been promised. However, such an effort is not on display in this film. A middling entry into the Dracula canon at best.
OVERALL: 1 torn bodice & 1 tastefully undone bodice out of a possible 5 torn bodices.
Some erotic elements are present, if only barely. As Dracula bears down on Mina (or possibly Lucy, I got distractedly bored quite a few times while watching this film) some tender kisses on the cheek and neck preclude his savage bite. That's about it, to my memory. Nary a torn bodice in sight.
I am not entirely sure what this reserved stature is a function of specifically. It could be either: A) this is a British film or B) it relies too heavily on presenting a literal translation of the novel.
In support of Option A, let us be clear, it is very British. Exceedingly so. Christopher Lee as Dracula and Peter Cushing as Van Helsing practically re-invent the term "stiff upper lip" in their respective performances here. This heavily British approach to the material also reflects on the mildness of the horror elements to the story. As Dracula, Lee's upper crust Anglo demeanor is no match for Bela Legosi's Hungarian exoticism. Here, the Count is far likelier sneer at an unlucky street urchin than tear his jugular out. In fact, the first victim when he arrives in the city is indeed a street urchin.
In support of Option B, the film adheres to the Gothic novel aesthetic. For those of you who are aware of the term but lack specifics, allow me to explain what it meant originally, rather than its modern re-interpretation. First, take whichever Jane Austen or Bronte sisters novel you were assigned to read in high school. I am going to use Wuthering Heights for the sake of example. Now, remove all references to contemporary social mores and marital customs. Replace that text with explorations of, primarily, Germanic or Slavic folklore. Finally, give Heathcliff fangs/lycanthropy/consumption and a creepy old house. That is a Gothic novel, even if that is an extremely reductive description.
Not to be dismissive of Stoker's novel, of course. The problem resides in transmitting that form to the screen. Here and most elsewhere, the result is flat except in the hands of the most exceptional filmmakers (i.e. David Lean & Ang Lee). Long narrative passages about deep, unfulfilled longing make for great reading. Numerous close-ups of actors conveying that feeling by pursing their lips and half-closing their eyes not so much. Therefore, the horror or erotic subtext, in the most entertaining films, needs to be accentuated and brought to the surface. Tod Browning chose horror, Francis Ford Coppola chose to wallow in eroticism and dabble in horror.
It seems as if the director, Terence Fisher, chose very modest portions of both. I have already noted the minimal extent of the sexual elements in this film. The opening titles, which feature bright red rivulets of blood dripping onto Dracula's coffin, make a promise of horror to come which the story never actually fulfills. As the film proceeds, Dracula is not at all menacing. If anything, he's just kind of a dick. Although the final sequence where Van Helsing hunts the vampire is extended compared to the 1931 version, and as noted the Dracula hunting mission is telegraphed from the outset, it somehow manages to disappoint. There is no more tension here than in the dull thud of the climax to Browning's film.
Perhaps the later Hammer horror films featuring Lee, Cushing and Vincent Price are the classics which I have been promised. However, such an effort is not on display in this film. A middling entry into the Dracula canon at best.
OVERALL: 1 torn bodice & 1 tastefully undone bodice out of a possible 5 torn bodices.
Day 8: THIS Boy's Life - An American Psycho...review - Guest Review by Giacomo Kmet
I'm not sure how this piece will turn out. I'm not sure it will be a conventional review, as I do not remember how to do one; plus, everyone should have seen this movie already. And if you haven't, kill yourself. Or you can show me your tastefully thick business card, and I'll do it for you.
I remember when American Psycho first came out. It was in 2000 and I was still a sophomore in high school; under the age limit for an R movie. As un-law abiding as I was (and am) at times, I never snuck into an R movie while underage. I remember the commercial - combining blood, screaming, and Huey Lewis and the News, in the most spectacular way. I was immediately enthralled. I wanted to see it in the worst way...and I never did. Like most High Schoolers, I must have immediately moved on once the next "big thing" distracted me.
Flash forward two years, and I was in Blockbuster with Anna. We had just started going out...I think. But I remember stopping in front of a side display and seeing American Psycho - ON VHS! - a movie I had completely forgot about since I had seen the commercial. I pointed it out to Anna, clearly excited (me, not her) - and I told her I had never seen the movie. Despite our short time together, she was confused as to why I had not, and semi-excitedly told me to get it (MISTAKE). I watched it alone a few days later, on some shitty old television, with my shitty VCR. I was, contrary to what you may believe, less than impressed. I liked the movie, but it wasn't what I expected. The movie, as I have come to appreciate, is much more Black Comedy than Horror or Thriller, or in whatever category you would fit a movie about a rich 80's Wall Street VP, who is possibly delusional, possibly murdering colleagues and hookers, at an alarming rate, in a brutal and explicit manner.
American Psycho was one of the first DVDs I received for Christmas, when I first got a Sony PlayStation 2 (didn't have a DVD player at the time). I used to watch it while writing creative writing stories in High School (which were not about murder - I didn't want to get sent to that weirdo guidance counselor). I read the book - highlighting the best parts. In retrospect - I realize I should have highlighted with different colors, different parts of the book. : pink for the sexual passages, blue for Patty Winters Show references (don't get me started on how much time I must have wasted trying to find out if that show actually existed and if i could get copies), classic Yellow for the murder. I suppose I could purchase another copy, but to get the broken in feeling, I'd need to read the book another 10 times.
College is the place where I watched the bulk of my viewings of American Psycho - and where I grew to appreciate it the most. It's what I believe help me make some friends (along with WWF/WWE, and ridiculous movies). American Psycho Wednesdays. Ah, a simpler time in my life. Every Wednesday in October - we, or I if alone, would watch American Psycho, possibly multiple times, while drinking bourbon mixed with cranberry juice (cran-apple), and a lime (I can always get you a lime). I believe I'm up to 75 viewings thanks to college- I'll need to check the log to be sure. Yes, around the 30th viewing, I started writing down the times. My room in New Jersey is a disturbing shrine to American Psycho: The advance poster (No Introduction Necessary), the US one sheet (Killer Looks), both Japanese mini movie posters (chirashi), a small reproduction of the German movie poster, 2 small copies of the Australian poster (it's double sided), a self made meat-bone filled in NYtimes crossword with blood and hair stains, a commissioned artwork of the original book cover (thanks Pauly!), the 7" Bateman figure, the 18" motion activated talking Bateman figure, and, if not mistaken, 6 copies of the dvd including the original unrated edition, the killer collector's edition, the Canadian edition, the original R rated edition, the UK edition, and the German edition...and the original VHS that started it all.
I love American Psycho. It introduced me to Christian Bale. It cemented my hatred for Jared Leto. At one time, I, and my college friends, could recite nearly the entire movie from memory. As insane as my purchasing in related paraphernalia has been - the movie reminds me of different times in my life. That first VHS with Anna; all those wonderful times on American Psycho Wednesdays; all those American Psycho themed artworks (Chris's rendition of himself as Bateman with a chainsaw in front of his crotch; Titan-American Psycho; Pauly's wonderful painting)...I could go on and on, but this is already getting too long. To close - this may not have been a review of the movie - but it is nothing short of a glowing recommendation, and a glimpse at what a movie can mean to someone - even a black comedy/horror-thriller.
If you have never seen American Psycho, this confession has meant nothing. American Psycho (Univeral 2000) (motion picture).
5 drawings of a watermelon out of 5
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Day 7: Creepshow 2
Like many of the movies I'll be tackling over the next month, Creepshow 2 is a wonderful movie that I found for five dollars. Buying a movie blind for five dollars is much more fun than stopping to watch a movie on cable. It's very low risk gambling. Yeah, you're out five bucks if it sucks, but its only five bucks. And if it's awesome, then, well, you only paid five bucks for it! Creepshow 2 kinda falls in the middle though. I'm happy with about two dollars and sixty eight cents of my purchase.
I still haven't seen the first Creepshow, but I've been aware of both movies for awhile, mostly because I knew George Romero and Stephen King were involved. They were writers and producers in the case of the sequel, though in the end, I saw a little bit more Romero than King in the film. Mostly in the villains of the stories, in that they have little to no redeeming qualities, as it is in Romero's Dead films. His bad guys are usually cartoonishly bad, and that touch is really evident in Creepshow 2 in the characters of "Fat Stuff," "Horny Teen 1," "Horny Teen 2," and "Rich Lady."
The main reason I'm pretty "meh" on Creepshow 2 is the pacing. Each of the three stories is paced as if part of an individual television show, not as a part of a whole. The slow pace pretty much only works in the case of the first story, which involves a slow and sleepy small town, wherein a wooden Indian takes revenge for the murders of elderly shopkeepers. The second takes forever to get to the murders of horny teens by pollution and the third involves a rich woman who runs over a hitchhiker who won't die. I was pretty much done watching the movie and reading a book about halfway through. I stopped giving a shit after the third line from the whiny teen interrupted the horny teens from getting it on.
Plus, none of these stories captured my attention as much as an episode of Tales from the Crypt. Creepshow 2 seemed to be lacking the energy, and real wicked sense of humor that was present in all the Tales from the Crypt episodes I've seen. Both are working from or inspired by the same source material, the horror comics of the 1950's, but Creepshow 2 didn't seem to pull it off as well.
$2.68 out of $5.00
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Day VI: A Taste For Love (2008)
(A.k.a. the Dracula musical from FORGETTING SARAH MARSHALL)
I'm not going to insult anyone's intelligence by actually attempting to review five minutes of a film as if it were a real film. But what I would like to discuss is the usage of Dracula as a symbol. This task is made somewhat easier for me since FSM makes the subtext of what he represents here, well, text.
In one of the raw-ish emotional moments of FSM, Pete (Jason Segal) explains that he identifies with Dracula because, like him, he believes he is cursed to suck dry everyone he grows close to. Which, self-pity aside, is actually quite good usage of the myth. As noted in Day Two's review of DRACULA (1931), the good Count and vampires generally have often been employed as metaphors for erotic longing. (Never more so than in the last decade, starting around the time of Coppola's film to become the dominant thematic element.) What could one long for more than what he loves most but always destroys?
Towards the climax of FSM, Pete, with the emotional assistant of Rachel (Mila Kunis), abandons the self-pity and realizes that a dracula musical with puppets works best when played for laughs. Why not let the wounds inflicted by Sarah Marshall (Kristen Bell) heal? After all, the vampier's main victim, Mina Harker, is traditionally cured when the forces of good (the men of her native land or the kindly hotel staff) defeat the forces of evil (Dracula as lusty foreignor or Sarah Marshall the distant television sex symbol).
Playing Dracula's predicament for laughs in fact maintains the essense of the metaphor as well as if it were drama. Only in stories are people forever cursed by tragic loves. Pete, whose heart has now healed, can see the comedy in the story. Although he presumably still identifies with Dracula to a degree, as I am sure most of us could, he also recognizes that Dracula need not be a horrific visage but rather an object of friendly ridicule, as if to commit an act of distancing to prevent him from ever becoming such a creature. Only vampires don't see the light of day eventually.
OVERALL: No rating, but high marks for thematic usage of the Dracula myth.
I'm not going to insult anyone's intelligence by actually attempting to review five minutes of a film as if it were a real film. But what I would like to discuss is the usage of Dracula as a symbol. This task is made somewhat easier for me since FSM makes the subtext of what he represents here, well, text.
In one of the raw-ish emotional moments of FSM, Pete (Jason Segal) explains that he identifies with Dracula because, like him, he believes he is cursed to suck dry everyone he grows close to. Which, self-pity aside, is actually quite good usage of the myth. As noted in Day Two's review of DRACULA (1931), the good Count and vampires generally have often been employed as metaphors for erotic longing. (Never more so than in the last decade, starting around the time of Coppola's film to become the dominant thematic element.) What could one long for more than what he loves most but always destroys?
Towards the climax of FSM, Pete, with the emotional assistant of Rachel (Mila Kunis), abandons the self-pity and realizes that a dracula musical with puppets works best when played for laughs. Why not let the wounds inflicted by Sarah Marshall (Kristen Bell) heal? After all, the vampier's main victim, Mina Harker, is traditionally cured when the forces of good (the men of her native land or the kindly hotel staff) defeat the forces of evil (Dracula as lusty foreignor or Sarah Marshall the distant television sex symbol).
Playing Dracula's predicament for laughs in fact maintains the essense of the metaphor as well as if it were drama. Only in stories are people forever cursed by tragic loves. Pete, whose heart has now healed, can see the comedy in the story. Although he presumably still identifies with Dracula to a degree, as I am sure most of us could, he also recognizes that Dracula need not be a horrific visage but rather an object of friendly ridicule, as if to commit an act of distancing to prevent him from ever becoming such a creature. Only vampires don't see the light of day eventually.
OVERALL: No rating, but high marks for thematic usage of the Dracula myth.
Friday, October 3, 2008
Day Three: Fringe (FOX, Tuesdays, 9PM)
Ok, so it’s not a movie; but Fox’s new science fiction show from JJ Abrams of (most recently) Lost and Cloverfield fame can get your heartbeat raised as much as anything else worth viewing during the Halloween season, and frankly, most of it is just as—if not more—jarring.
The basic premise of Fringe is the following: Specific sector of FBI is dedicated to investigating peculiar happenings—often referred to as “The Pattern”—with the help of a crazy old genius, and his son who seems to only be involved because his father is so crazy that he’s in his son’s custody. There’s also a lot of evidence that most of “The Pattern” is a result of experiments the old genius did decades ago in his Harvard-based lab, where he shared space with another genius who, instead of going crazy, patented most of his ideas and is now a rich genius. I never got into the X-Files, though evidence is strong that if I started watching it now, I would enjoy it. Having said that Fringe seems to be a lot like the X-Files, but instead of aliens, science is the cause of the weirdness.
And make no mistake: things are very, very weird. Spooky even. Like most shows, each episode of Fringe begins with some sort of catalyst, followed by the opening theme. Fringe’s opening theme is bright and happy, accompanied with bizarre images. It’s a great sensory piece that offers conflict: I hear happy, I see crazy. Isn’t that what Halloween is? What makes us happier than being able to escape reality—even if we’re escaping somewhere that we eventually realize we don’t want to be (when it's finally too late)?
Every episode thus far (four have aired since mid-September) has featured some escape from reality that we’d all hate to be experiencing, yet the world in which it takes place is very much our own. If the psychosis of that isn’t “Halloween enough” for you, consider that peoples’ faces melt, others get trapped like “mosquitoes in amber,” bizarre men read other peoples’ thoughts, serial killers eat flesh, and those you thought you could trust turn out to be the exact people you can’t.
It might not be a movie, but for an hour each week, Fringe succeeds in bringing out the most frightening of October thoughts.
Score: 4 out of 5 murderous experiments.
The basic premise of Fringe is the following: Specific sector of FBI is dedicated to investigating peculiar happenings—often referred to as “The Pattern”—with the help of a crazy old genius, and his son who seems to only be involved because his father is so crazy that he’s in his son’s custody. There’s also a lot of evidence that most of “The Pattern” is a result of experiments the old genius did decades ago in his Harvard-based lab, where he shared space with another genius who, instead of going crazy, patented most of his ideas and is now a rich genius. I never got into the X-Files, though evidence is strong that if I started watching it now, I would enjoy it. Having said that Fringe seems to be a lot like the X-Files, but instead of aliens, science is the cause of the weirdness.
And make no mistake: things are very, very weird. Spooky even. Like most shows, each episode of Fringe begins with some sort of catalyst, followed by the opening theme. Fringe’s opening theme is bright and happy, accompanied with bizarre images. It’s a great sensory piece that offers conflict: I hear happy, I see crazy. Isn’t that what Halloween is? What makes us happier than being able to escape reality—even if we’re escaping somewhere that we eventually realize we don’t want to be (when it's finally too late)?
Every episode thus far (four have aired since mid-September) has featured some escape from reality that we’d all hate to be experiencing, yet the world in which it takes place is very much our own. If the psychosis of that isn’t “Halloween enough” for you, consider that peoples’ faces melt, others get trapped like “mosquitoes in amber,” bizarre men read other peoples’ thoughts, serial killers eat flesh, and those you thought you could trust turn out to be the exact people you can’t.
It might not be a movie, but for an hour each week, Fringe succeeds in bringing out the most frightening of October thoughts.
Score: 4 out of 5 murderous experiments.
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