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?

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

A Beautiful Film, An Ugly World

[May Contain Spoilers]

On July 4th, after returning rather burned out from a long conference in California, I enjoyed a calm day of sleeping until noon, and seeing “Wall-E.” Little did I know how un-American that decision truly was...

“Wall-E” is a movie about a lonely and in love robot that’s also really curious and adorable. He follows the girlbot he loves into outer space, meets some devolving humans, and helps bring humankind back to Earth, which had been barren of any organic life for 700 or so years. This story, combined with the wonderful score, amazing animation, and lack of dialogue (ok, and the fact that “Wall-E” is so freakin adorable) made it a unique movie going experience. After the movie, I shared with Pauly (of 822 fame) my feelings of the movie, to which he replied, “It’s a really beautiful film.” For the first time, I could really tell the difference between a great movie and a beautiful film.

Not that it’s a surprise, but this plot was grabbed on by both sides of the political aisle and analyzed and then over-analyzed. As The Village Voice’s “Runnin’ Scared” reports, there is a large backlash against the movie coming from the right-wing, claiming, “‘The plot was something only Al Gore could love,’ wrote Say Anything. ‘And your average soy latte-sipping, Obama-voting, Che-flat-waving liberal.’” Of course, also according to “Runnin’ Scared*,” there wasn’t only hatred from that side, but a love: “Crunchy Conservative Rod Dreher said Wall-E ‘argues that rampant consumerism, technopoly and the exaltation of comfort is causing us to weaken our souls and bodies, and sell out our birthright of political freedom.’” Inject your politics as you will I suppose.

I’m not naïve enough to think that there would be no political backlash, but I’m certainly not happy about it. After the movie, Erin (also of 822 fame) said, “well, if that was the one movie that Earth beamed out and the aliens saw, it would make humans look terrible.” True. But it wouldn’t make conservatives or liberals look terrible—just humans—a group that conservatives and liberals alike cannot deny being a part of.

At this point in 2008, there’s a thick black line separating the right from the left, so there’s no surprise to see politics injected where it doesn’t belong. Kyle Smith, a columnist for the New York Post and self-proclaimed film critic had a negative review of the movie. Responses to his review ranged from agreement about the movie’s pacing (“what a yawnarama”) to the political (“Is this movie as blatantly liberal as ‘Happy Feat?’) to of course the backlash (“I’m quite ashamed with your review of ‘Wall-E’”). The biggest political issue seems to be with the environmentalist “message” of the movie, but thankfully Kyle tries to push that to the curb: “Well, I loved ‘Happy Feet,’ but if anything ‘Wall-E’ is even more of an environmental parable. (Not that I concede that to want a clean environment is a liberal idea. I hope we all want that)."

I may disagree with Smith’s review of the movie, but I think his sentiment about the environment is accurate. Hate the movie for it’s lack of dialogue, but leave the politics (or the politics you inject) out of it.

*This is a link to a different “Runnin’ Scared” post, so please click both.

Review: (The Crowd At) Flogging Molly, February 21, Poughkeepsie, NY

Flogging Molly is, hands down, my favorite band to see live. I’ve admittedly not seen Gogol Bordello, whom I hear is right up there with the FM, but I have my allegiances, and they lie with the band sporting the green white and orange (for now). After seeing Flogging Molly several times a year for eight consecutive years, I feel as though—coming from me—a simple review of one of their shows would come off very generic and run-of-the-mill, regardless of how un-generic or run-of-the-mill the shows actually are. All you need to know: fun songs make for fun dancing, and great songs played fast and more energetic makes for fun energetic dancing. Sure, they debuted some new songs at the show, but I’ll save my review on those for when the album comes out (but I’ll give you a preview: awesome).

One thing I’ve noticed eight years into the game—not to sound like a preachy old fart—is that the crowd has gone down hill. To be clear, I’m not against a band’s success. Not only am I proud of the guys who I saw for the first in one of New York City’s smallest venues sell out theaters, but I’m also not one to turn on new fans. My biggest problem lies with the non-fans taking up valuable pit room at a sold out show.

Every time I have the opportunity to see Flogging Molly, it’s a thrice-circled date in my calendar. So when I’m stuck behind some dude chewing gum, not singing a single word the entire night, and blocking my view of the stage with his outstretched arm, equipped with a fancy camera phone, then unfortunately, I revert back to angry purist fan. “Get out of my show,” I think, “I saw them first, they’re mine, and quite frankly, you don’t deserve to be here.” Last night, while being forced to view a live show through the viewfinder of a camera phone, I cursed technology’s advancements for ruining my good time.

Luckily, next week I have the chance to experience the concert all over again, this time at a venue with enough floor space to allow for me to avoid such instances—in theory. The truth is that the scenario is far to ubiquitous. Leave one camera phone, run into another digital camera. It’s a never-ending cycle, and excuse me if I’m not going to feel sympathy when your gadget breaks, but I’m there to rock! (And you should be too.)

I’m Dirty, and so is “Boy Toy”

It’s hard to write critically about something you feel close to. It took me probably a total of six hours to finish Barry Lyga’s second and latest novel “Boy Toy,” (Houghton Mifflin, 2007) and now, less than an hour after I’ve finished it, I feel almost like I just finished the last “Harry Potter” book. That is to say, I’m feeling very “damn, I wish I could continue reading!!”

I first picked up “Boy Toy” because I enjoyed Barry Lyga’s first novel, “The Astonishing Adventures of Fanboy and Goth Girl,” (Houghton Mifflin, 2006) which was a novel about a comic geek who loved Bendis, and the goth girl who sort of understood him, but didn’t really, but really did—sort of. I liked it, but I didn’t like like it. It was a fun read though, especially for teen lit. I was expecting more of the same from “Boy Toy,” but the only things the two books had in common were the high school where each took place, and the idea of a real-world running theme (“Fanboy…” featured comic books, and “Boy Toy” featured baseball*).

(The following paragraph may contain spoilers. Maybe? I don’t know. Perhaps these plot points were well known to those who had sought out the book, but for me, each reveal was just that: a reveal).

Where “Fanboy…” was a fun teen book, here we have something much more. “Boy Toy” is the story of a Josh Mendel, an 18 year old math and baseball wiz who is less than patiently looking forward to the end of his senior year so that he can get the fuck (or, to more accurately express the tone of Josh and the book, get the fucking fuckety fuck!) out of his hometown. He has good reason to want to leave: when he was 12, he (if I may quote the book) fucked his history teacher, Mrs. Evelyn Sherman. A lot. In fact, he fell in love with her. Josh feels stigmatized, and like most teen lit, he has but one good friend with whom he can feel safe.

Yes, there are a lot of teen lit stereotypes here. There are at least two “you just don’t get it, do you”s in the book. But there are some not-so stereotype moments: like the sex scenes between the teacher and the 12-year-old boy. There are moments when Mrs. Sherman asks Josh “don’t you love me?” There’s the part where Josh, thinking making out will undoubtedly lead to fucking, rips the underwear off the 13 year old girl he is in the closet with at a party. There’s the trial, when Josh wouldn’t testify against Eve because she loved him and he loved her. There’s the scene where Eve’s husband George beats the shit out of a 13-year-old boy for fucking his wife.

The book paints a very clear picture for the reader, one that I admittedly wasn’t prepared to buy into. Naively, I read the book thinking that Josh lived the dream: he banged the hot teacher—and at just 12 years old! The sex scenes were merely evidence of this fact. Then my attitude started to change: Eve asked Josh if he loved her. Eve said she loved him. Eve had Josh lying to his parents. Eve would call Josh on weekend to say she missed him. Eve would have Josh watch porn and ask if he wanted her to be that satisfied. My mental image went from hot teacher in lingerie, to some sort of terrifying image—something clearly predatory.

The sign of a good book might be how well it’s written, how many obvious stereotypes it avoids, or how well it gets it point across. This book changed my way of thinking. This book literally made me sick. I became disgusted with teachers and parents and police and lawyers and myself**.

When I closed the book for the last time, I put it down. For lack of a better phrase, this book touched me in a way that made me uncomfortable. When I finished, all that mattered to me was Josh being ok. If the sign of a good book is caring about the characters, then there you have it.

This book might not be a great read; I don’t know if I think it’s one of the better written books I’ve read or not; I don’t even know that I liked it. But I’m glad I read it, and I wish it had existed so I could have read it earlier.


*I hate baseball. Remember?

**Partly because I cared about baseball while reading.

Here’s Your Review, (Not That You Asked)!

Steve Almond is a former adjunct professor at Boston College. As the author of several books, he taught creative writing with good reason. I wonder what his professional opinion would be about the use of commas in the title of this review. I hope he would find it as delicious as he finds candy*.

Anyway, the reason why I know so much about Steve Almond is that I just finished his latest book, “(Not That You Asked)” (Random House, 2007), a collection of essays full of too much information that no one explicitly asked for (except, apparently Random House, though I doubt they chose the content). The book begins with a series of fake letters from a fictional Steve Almond to a real Oprah Winfrey, giving her hell for her place in the publishing world and the real world. It’s a bit of a weak beginning, though I do find it entertaining.

Though the Oprah letters started me off on the wrong foot for things to come, the remainder of the book is pretty strong. The second chapter of the book is a three-essay-collection about Kurt Vonnegut, and Almond’s connections (physically, inspirationally and otherwise) to the author. It’s a fun few essays that I think should have started the book. In fact, Almond originally wanted to write a book about Kurt Vonnegut, but apparently his publisher preferred for him to write a collection of essays instead (hence Random House’s explicit requests).

My biggest problem with the book is that its pretty clear Almond wanted to write about one thing, and was told to do something else. Where many of the essays are fantastic to read, oftentimes hysterical or thought provoking (like his essay about dealing with a conservative backlash and comparing it to Dante’s Inferno), others seem like filler (like the essay on Tesla).

To Almond’s credit, even when the essay feels forced, or just seems to be out of nowhere and not necessarily fit into any of the themes that lead off each chapter, it’s still incredibly well written. Almond has a style of writing that proves that his heart’s in it, no matter the content. He can make me care about things I absolutely have no interest in. Case in point: one of the longest (if not the longest) essays in the book is about baseball, a sport that I’m quite vocal in hating**.

Knowing that Random House was the catalyst to this collection, I don’t hold the filler and random essays against Almond—especially since they were a joy to read just because of the way he writes. Being all over the place in the book makes it hard to characterize, and even though this book can be found in the humor section at Barnes and Noble, don’t expect knock out laughs the whole time (I’d venture to say that if Almond had written his Vonnegut book, any laughs would have been just happy coincidences). What you can expect is a decently quick, fairly easy, and extremely fun (and yes, usually funny) read.

* See another of Almond's non-fiction works, "Candyfreak" (Heinemann Group, 2006)
** I hate baseball.

REVIEW: THE ZEN OF ZOMBIE

As an amateur zombiologist, I often wonder what I would do when placed in the scenario of a zombie outbreak. I've contemplated the best ways to destroy a staircase and the best methods for taking out various undead without exerting too much energy or wasting ammunition. On colder days, before going out, I make sure I have enough layers to protect me from the cold and from the frigid walking death a bite from a zombie would bring. Although never a boyscout, my motto is definitely "Be prepared."(For some fucking zombies)

To support my research, there were two texts that I held above all others: The Zombie Survival Guide and World War Z both of which were written by Max Brooks. These expanded my mind with such radical ideas like going to a prison instead of a suburban mall or using a sword instead of wasting ammo in close combat. However, not once did I stop to consider the zombie. The zombie was simply an obstacle to me and my loved ones' continued existence. Until now. 

Scott Kenemore has written a groundbreaking book called The Zen of Zombie: Better Living Through the Undead. Mr. Kenemore takes a radical approach of presenting the zombie as a role model. He believes that we will all lead better lives if we are as unrelenting and ruthless at work and in our personal lives as the zombie is in pursuit of some fresh brains. By adapting the single-minded nature of the zombie, Kenemore believes all of our goals can easily be accomplished. This is all well and good, but Mr. Kenemore doesn't go far enough.

If we are able to think and act like the zombies, then they should be easily defeated. However, Mr. Kenemore thinks that bettering one's own life is enough. He focuses on trivial issues like dating and promotions. Why not make your goal to remove the stink of rotting flesh from the globe? I guess the survival of mankind against the zombie plagues isn't that important. Were he to take his ideas and put them towards the more constructive task of ridding the world of the undead, Mr. Kenemore would be a celebrated scholar and prize winner like Mr. Brooks. As it is, he's written an entertaining and funny book, but not one that should be considered an accurate text of zombiology. The employees at the book store should really do a better job of categorizing things. 

Meet the Spoofs

It is true and I will not deny it. I saw Meet the Spartans last evening. Before you shiv me, let me give you the details. After seeing Cloverfield (which I would review, but I'd be the third) I made my way into a different theater thinking it was the bathroom. I pulled my pants down and sat down in one of the soft chairs. Before I could wonder 'Why are there so many other toilets in here?' or 'Where will my #2 go?' I was transported to ancient Sparta. Sadly, the film contained almost none of the scenes from the preview. More sadly, it did have some good parts.

There were several actors who appeared in the film that made the 101% 300 based storyline occasionally bearable. (Yes, I will admit that I laughed occasionally but mostly because of how bad it was.) The most important of these actors was Hercules himself, Kevin Sorbo. Why the hell didn't this guy do any comedy before? He was hilarious in the over buff, shirt missing demi-god sort of way. If you, like my dear friend Seth, pick it up from the $4.99 shelf at Blockbuster be prepared to laugh (one of the five times during the movie) when Hercules gets in on a "You're Momma" contest. Also appearing in this film was Carmen Electra. I never really found her all the attractive with her 'polar bear/snake face' but I was hoping so hard that her minimal clothes would somehow become even more... minimal. There was also an appearance by Ken Davitian, better known as Azamat Bagatov from Borat. He was actually the best part of the film and I vowed not to ruin it for you (two of the five times you will laugh during the movie).

It would be fair to say that the spoof genre pretty much died with the first Scary Movie, but it will continue to linger. Once in awhile there is a spoof that I can consider bearable. I personally thought that Scary Movie 4 was better than the previous two. I also thought that Not Another Teen Movie had several good moments. These films can never reach the caliber of Naked Gun and I don't think can with they type of people buying tickets to them. Scary Movie was a good spoof because the movies it spoofed were good movies. Now, the spoof films have movies like Stomp the Yard and You've Been Served and How She Move as material and as a result end up using the entire plot from one decent film and bad celebrity impersonators to fill the holes. If the films that are there to be spoofed are worth spoofing, then the spoof film will work. Make sense?

I am an intelligent man in my early 20's who spend a bit of money to learn how to make movies and I hope nobody thinks that I loved this movie and camped out the night before to purchase tickets. It was free and I never expected another Scary Movie, even though it was made by two of the writes of Scary Movie. I knew it would be crap parodying crap and that was the humor I wanted after watching Cloverfield.

REVIEW: Akbar's Indian Cuisine: It's a Trap...of Deliciousness

Or How I Almost Ate A Warm Towelette

During my years at Hofstra University on Long Island, if we wanted to go to the mall or movie theater, we would pass by an Indian restaurant called Akbar's. Being people who loved Star Wars, it was only natural that someone would yell out "It's a trap!" as we drove by, just as the fish headed Admiral Akbar screamed in Return of the Jedi. Eventually, my enjoyment of Indian food transformed this restaurant from a joke to a curiosity.

Now, for those who don't know, I started a diet several weeks ago. It's not too hard to stick to, but it's not exactly easy either. The thing is, I've allowed myself to have about two meals during the weekend where I don't adhere to the plan. I've decided that for the most part, I don't want these meals wasted on somewhere like Friday's or any of its many clones. I want to try new foods and new restaurants, which led my lovely fiancee Chrystal and me to finally trying Akbar's last night.

First off, Akbar's is a beautiful restaurant. It's very open, very bright and very clean. We might have just gone at a slow part of the night, but the service was incredible. At least 8 people asked me if I wanted something to drink before I finally ordered a glass of wine. (Chrystal had the fortitude to stick with water, I just couldn't say no to those people) As for the food, it was a huge step up for someone who had only enjoyed take-out Indian food at work. The garlic naan was fluffy and flavorful and the chicken biryani was better than I've ever had before.

After they cleared our table of all the dinner plates, the put out a plate with two rolled up white and yellow things which looked to me, like some sort of rolled white chocolate. If anyone's ever been to a Thai restaurant, you've probably had a free dessert at the end of the meal that's like a white chocolate wrapped in banana leaves. This is the kinda thing it was. Luckily, the waiter noticed me pondering the plate and said "That's for wiping off your hands." Holy crap, I almost ate a warm, moist towelette. The actual desserts we had were far more delicious than the towel would have been. I had carrot pudding, which didn't actually have a pudding-like consistency, but was more like ground up warm carrots that were incredibly sweet. As for Chrystal, she had...milk balls? They were good, but neither their texture nor appearance is appetizing. It was three brown balls sitting in honey. Three brown balls in a yellow substance. Not what you imagine when capping off your meal, but Chrystal dove in and tried them and was pleasantly surprised.

So, after 4 years of imagining the proprietor of Akbar's to be a fish-headed admiral from a galaxy far far away, I have to say that Akbar's is truly a great restaurant in addition to being a source of puns for Star Wars geeks. I can't wait til the next time we go there so I can enjoy that sweet, sweet carrot pudding again.

REVIEW: THE ORPHANAGE?

This really isn't a review, just an awkward narrative with a slight bit of review in it. I realized as I started this post that I didn't have much to say but felt I should post something anyway.

On Friday night Crystal was all like "Let's see a movie. Let's see a movie." So she looks up what's going on and I'm all like "Ooo, Cloverfield." Then I realize it's Friday night and it'll be packed with kids. Then she shows me the preview for The Orphanage. It looked like a normal 'creepy child recently moving into a haunted house' kind of movie. However, it has Guillermo del Toro's name all over it. I saw half of the first Hellboy and thought it was a well-directed action superhero movie with actual style. And if all ya'll didn't know, Pan's Labyrinth is one of the very few films in recent years that I feel is in my top movies.

We arrive in the theater and that shit is empty except for an old couple, Crystal and I, and a younger couple that comes in five minutes into the movie. The opening credits were weird, and I don't mean because they were in Spanish. There were like seven different production companies involved in making the film, plus del Toro and what looked like a few television companies. So the film itself had a feel that seemed half normal haunting movie and half foreign film. The music wasn't the blatant 'oh shit, something's coming' and 'oh shit, you should be prepared for the worst' soundtrack. It had the intensity of the haunting film without crappy dialogue. In fact, it seemed to have minimal dialog at some points, very much like Pan's Labyrinth. I think it works well in the film and causes it to be more about the visual aspects and the story. The end of the film (I won't ruin it too much) started out to be an ending like Pan's Labyrinth where you think it's all worked out and it's cheesy, but nice. Then you see the truth. And at the very end you still smile just enough not to hate the ending.

When we left the theater, Crystal asked me what I thought. I felt that it was a refreshing view of a haunting-style film with real direction. I expected a bit more because it was del Toro, but I figured more of his mind was on Hellboy 2 at the time. However, it turns out I was wrong because he didn't direct The Orphanage, just produced it and thus they were able to put his name all over it.

So basically I would say it was a good movie, but nothing incredibly special. It was a well-directed, slight re-envisioning, of a movie that seems to have been done several times before.

The 822 Cloverfield Company

NOTE: While this isn’t necessarily a review, and the movie only contained few things that could be spoiled, the following MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS, so please only read if you’ve seen it, or don’t really care. You can read a real review below.

J.J. Abrams’ new movie (his first full length?), “Cloverfield,” was known for a long time as “1-18-08,” because when anyone had first heard anything about it, it was from a trailer attached to the “Transformers” movie that offered no title, just that date. This, of course, is a brilliant way to get people talking, and was just the first part of what they now call a Viral Marketing Campaign.

This Viral Marketing Campaign certainly paid off for the film. At 7:45 on a Friday night, it’s no surprise that the theater was packed, but it may have been the first film I’ve seen a theater, without the name “Harry Potter” or “Spider-Man,” that had literally every seat sold out (which has lead me to already plan my first viewing of “Dark Knight,” a movie with an even more viral campaign).

My personal opinion of the movie is the following: It was fun, had some decent drama as more and more characters died, and it absolutely would not have worked if it weren’t for the handheld camera approach—which made me nauseous. The ending was satisfying for me, in part because it left lots of stuff open to learn more and to research on the Internet, and partly because it really pissed off a lot of people in the theater that I didn’t like on principle. Watching the movie was fun and seldom more, but the aftermath was the real experience.

“Cloverfield” is one of those never-going-happen-to-me kind of disaster movies that is fun to overanalyze and realistically plan for. “We’d be prepared if that ever happened,” my girlfriend told me earnestly, and I agreed 100%. After all, we knew not to go into the subway tunnels; we knew to run if the rats were running; and most importantly, we knew that no matter what, getting bit always equates to something bad, whether its from a zombie, a vampire, or as in this case, the weird spawn of the giant lizard bug thing from “Cloverfield.” (Note to all movie monsters: don’t even bother with us, we’re very well prepared).

Even though we knew we’d be ok if it ever happened, the drive home after the post-movie activities was dedicated to “imagine if that ever really did happen” conversations, as well as weighing the pros and cons of the attack being in Manhattan versus somewhere else in the country (Pros for it being on Manhattan: “at least it’s an island. You could just destroy the whole island if you had to.” Pros for somewhere else: maybe it would be further from here).

If I could sum up the experience of seeing “Cloverfield,” it would be “that movie was great.” If I could some up the experience of seeing the movie and all of the conversation and analysis that followed, it would be “that movie is terrifying.” While I’m sure that Mr. Abrams was going for terrifying, I’m pretty much positive he wasn’t going to realism. But for a never-going-to-happen-anyone kind of disaster movie, it sure managed to get pretty real.

REVIEW: CLOVERFIELD

CLOVERFIELD MONSTER GONNA EAT YOU!

If the monster in Cloverfield could talk, and it said the above line, the movie would have been fucking amazing. As it was, I just enjoyed it. It was a very interesting interpretation of the giant monster movie and a good commentary on our amateur video obsessed society. It's also a great film if you enjoy seeing douchebags get killed.

Douches Galore

The characters in Cloverfield are pretty much the characters you would usually see as victims in a modern slasher movie. Cool, attractive young folks who you pretty much know can die at any second. The only difference here is, there's not really a likable one in the bunch. I'm not saying that a character has to be likable, I'd just prefer them to not all be douches. Seriously, the main character, Rob, is a total douche. And the guy behind the camera, Hud, the doucheist of douches. He asks the question "What is that thing?" close to 47 or 49 times. He pretty much asks all the questions that the idiots and old ladies in a movie theater would normally ask. So, old ladies and dumbasses with no theater etiquette, this movie does half the work for you.

Other stuff, good.

Now, with the above paragraph, you might think I hated this movie. I didn't. I enjoyed it a lot, although the film could've used a P. Diddy song sampling Led Zepplin. The monster is pretty badass, although to all those like myself who were hoping for some sort of Gammera type turtle monster, you'll be sorely disappointed. For those who haven't seen it yet, I won't spoil it, but I will say it obviously has Godzilla influences along with some H.P. Lovecraft thrown in.

Cloverfield also wins points for really drawing me into the film. I felt like I was on that Body Wars ride from Epcot. In one of the brief moments that I looked around me, I saw that everyone eye's were glued to the screen as well. There was also a rare moment in a packed theater where everyone was actually silent with suspense. Amazingly no one giggled or talked or had their cellphone go off. So I've got to give the movie credit for that.

So, overall, I don't really have a lot to say about the movie. Did it live up to the hype? I'm not sure. I can't speak for everyone's expectations. As for my own, I simply wanted to be entertained and see a turtle monster. At least I was entertained. Go ahead and check it out, it's definitely worth seeing in theaters.*

*Unless you too wanted a turtle monster. In that case, stay home and dream of a day when someone revives the Gammera movies. Also, if you have vertigo its probably not a great idea. You'll vomit. A lot.

Review of Sorts: How Hugo Cabret's Invention Affected My Year

Yesterday morning, the 2008 edition of the Children’s Media awards (honors? I’m not very good at getting technical names correct) took place. While there are probably about 15 different awards given, and honorary winners named, the two that are most well-known are of course those named for John Newbery and whateverhisfirstnamewas Caldecottt. Because of the gravity these two medals carry in the literary community (like being carried specifically in those bookcases at Barnes and Noble dedicated to the winners), they’re “sort of a big deal.”

Oftentimes, there’s a little too much scrutiny on the winners. Last year’s Newbery was a book called “The Higher Power of Lucky,” and hanging right there in the first sentence was a nice big “scrotum” for the young-reading world to see. Some libraries shunned the book, some bookstores became weary of the book, but as a whole, the publishing industry wore it as a badge of honor, and the book’s publisher would later refer to it as “the word,” and use it as a vehicle in an unnamed “look what we’ve overcome” campaign.

This year’s Newbery is a book I’ve never heard of by a smaller publisher (Candlewick Press), making me happy that—even though I’ve never heard of it, and its announcement became inherently anti-climactic because of its lack of popularity (but just give that some time)—there’s some concrete proof that the committee is looking at books flying well below the radar. This year’s Caldecott however, is not only a book I’ve read, but a book I’ve given perhaps a little too much scrutiny to for the better part of the last year.

“The Invention of Hugo Cabret,” made its grand entrance into my life in late March, a book among hundreds of others dwelling in the warehouse-section of my job’s home base. It would be another few weeks before, bored in Hershey, PA, I would finally pick up the book and give it the fair chance it deserved. It was just another few hours until it had earned its place on my shelf of favorites books. Throughout its over 500 pages (undoubtedly making it the longest Caldecott winner we might ever see), author/illustrator Brian Selznick concocts a story that cannot stand alone with just text or illustrations.

After the announcements of the winners, I caught up with one of my coworkers. I doubt he ever has much invested in the awards (whereas I feel like Hugo’s win was almost exclusively my doing because I’ve recommended it to so many, and named it a clear frontrunner for either Newbery or Caldecott in my blog on December 19), but, never wanting to be out of the loop, he agreed that it was a great choice. When I pushed to confirm that he had actually read the book, he said “yes,” but didn’t remember what it was about.

This is not a book that one forgets (not that I’m trying to paint a picture of my coworker as the liar he clearly is). It’s the most unique piece of literature I’ve ever read—not because of its story, but in its format. It looks at the challenge of our “visually based” society and solves it with flying black and white pencil sketches.

But of course, a book is only as good as its content. As Selznick’s first full-length novel (his previous efforts each clocked in at under 70 pages), the story never falters, and never loses the reader. Though its intimidating thickness may scare off the few not brave enough to look between its covers, reluctant readers are sure to speed through it, as not only does the story keep you wanting more, but the pictures make you not want to stop.

What little I know about Selznick allows for the book to become even more real. As a fan of old cinema, Selznick treats each illustrated page as a carefully considered shot in a movie about Hugo’s world. And Hugo’s world is not glamorous: the orphaned son of a watchmaker, he was forced to live with his alcoholic uncle, the clock keeper at a Paris train station. When his uncle disappears, Hugo realizes he must keep the clocks at the station working, or risk being caught, and sent to an orphanage. With his genetic knowledge of watch making, the task of fixing clocks is no tough challenge, but fixing the automaton that his father left behind is much more difficult. On top of all that, he must steal to survive, and his luck eventually runs out, when he is caught by the toy seller. Through a series of physical discoveries and conscious epiphanies, the plot unwinds to show the intertwined fates of the two.

Even though it only took me about three hours to read all 544 pages, it would be in my head for months to come. When I had the opportunity to meet Selznick at a book fair in New York City, I jumped at the chance. Having never been to a signing at a book fair before, I provided my own copy of the book, not knowing that they would have provided one for me. But when one of his publisher’s marketers wouldn’t allow it, and Selznick’s publicist scoffed at the idea, Selznick himself had no problem signing an extra copy for me to give to another diehard fan of the book. He thanked me for my dedication, and I appreciated how nice he was (I would later blog that meeting him was the highlight of my weekend—which also included a presentation by Stephen Colbert).

Last year’s scrotum-bearing Newbery winner was a book that I felt pride for because, in its early stages, I had taken an editorial look at as an intern at the publisher. But this year’s Caldecott winner has given me an entirely new sense of pride—one that I don’t know if I rightfully deserve. I’ve had next to nothing to do with its success (with the exception of the people to whom I’ve recommended the book), but when a piece of art that is truly inspiring receives the attention it deserves (and was not slated to receive), anyone who has ever had contact with it should feel a sense of pride.

REVIEW: CHARLIE WILSON'S WAR

aka Bachelor Party 2

Charlie Wilson's War is Mike Nichols's latest film, with a script by Aaron Sorkin and starring Tom Hanks, Julia Roberts and Phillip Seymour Hoffman. Charlie Wilson(Hanks) is a senator from Texas who though he seems of little importance actually turns out to be a great influence on the Cold War. He also likes to party down.* Hell, he leads the Senate sub-committee on partying down. Charlie Wilson's War is essentially a sequel in spirit to one of Hanks's first films, Bachelor Party, if his character in that film became a senator but kept that party going another 20 years. And just like Bachelor Party, this film is very entertaining, yet leaves me incredibly depressed.**

I'm not going to talk much about the acting in this film. It's all great work as usual from Hanks, Roberts, Hoffman and Amy Adams in a supporting role as Wilson's assistant. What is really interesting about Charlie Wilson's War is the surface level of the film and how that has played into the marketing. The trailers and commercials make it seem like your average Oscar baiting, one man can do it, America can do it, crowd pleasing film. At some points it even feels like that type of movie, but its really not.

The opening scene of the film places Wilson in front of the American flag while a banner at the other end of the room reads "Charlie Did It!" Charlie is there accepting an award from the CIA for his part in arming Afghanistan against the invading Soviet forces. Nichols then flashes back to how everything unfolded until he returns to the same scene he began with. Except this time its prefaced with a short scene of the senator drinking and crying in frustration over his inability to convince anyone to rebuild Afghanistan. The exact same scene shown exactly the same way, but with different context. It's these little reminders of context, like the unyielding hatred between an Israeli arms dealer and an Egyptian official; and Gust's(Hoffman) commentary on the dubious religious motives of Joanne Herring(Julia Roberts) that really set the movie's tone. Underneath all these Cold War dealings, something much worse is brewing.

In the end, while Charlie Wilson's War does show that one man can indeed make a difference, it also ponders the ramifications of that change. Obvious parallels are drawn to the current problems in Iraq and what the United States will do once all the terrorists are out of Iraq. Will the people of Iraq just be forgotten like the people of Afghanistan only to breed more contempt for America? Once all the Communists are out, they, along with Charlie are quickly ignored as yesterday's news. As the real Charlie Wilson says in a quote at the end of the film, "We fucked up the end game." I know some people may have been on the fence about seeing this movie because of how it was marketed, but I really can't recommend it enough. Charlie Wilson's War will make you laugh, it will make you think and it will probably depress the shit out of you. Go see it, but for your own sake, don't watch Munich beforehand or you'll just want to kill yourself before the world explodes because of fanatics on all sides.

* A key element to his partying down is whiskey. Charlie Wilson is drinking whiskey in at least every other scene in this film. It really made me want a glass of whiskey. Whiskey whiskey whiskey.

** Charlie Wilson's War depresses me because of its commentary on the ever worsening situation in the Middle East. Bachelor Party just brings me down afterwards because I know my bachelor party won't be that awesome, which is sad because it won't be as good as the movie that wasn't as good as Animal House.