Sep
30
How Important Is Having the Same Interest in Movies As Your Significant Other?
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As someone who goes to the movies by myself fairly often, I actually find it kind of unusual to go with another person. I think maybe I’ve seen about a half-dozen movies this year with a companion or some sort. But I’ve totally lost count of how many movies I’ve seen alone. Just this year, I know I must’ve seen close to a fifty films theatrically. So, yeah, I go once or twice a weekend, sometimes more.
I’ve gotten past the melancholy I used to feel when I went to the movies by myself. It used to depress me to see couples at the movies, holding hands, making out, dry-humping, etc. And that’s just in the line to get popcorn. No, I’ve come to the conclusion that getting someone to go to the movies with me is a thousand times more miserable than how I feel when I see a happy couple all snuggled together at “Saw V.”
Here is a quickie example of the average conversation I find myself having with anyone I ask to accompany me on a trip to the flickershow:
Me: “Hey, man/sweetcheeks. Do you want to go to the movies with me?”
Friend: “Yeah, sure. What movie?”
Me: “Well, there’s a screening of a movie that is right up your alley at a theater that’s conveniently located.”
Friend: “Hmm. Do we have to see a movie that is right up my alley? Can’t we see something that one you already saw three weeks ago and didn’t like all that much?”
Me: “We could, I guess. It’s not playing within the city limits anymore. We’ll have to go out to some shitty second-run theater way the hell out in Irvine.”
Friend: “Cool. Can I bring my wife/husband/RealDoll, so you’ll feel like a third wheel?”
Me: “As long as they insist we sit in the very back row for no good reason whatsoever.”
Friend: “Then it’s on like Donkey Kong!”
I think that pretty much sums it up. I’m always having to compromise about the film, the venue, the seating arrangements and so on and so forth. That said, I find it miraculous that most people even make it out to the movies. It’s so much easier to check out a film when you fly solo because you circumvent the entire negotiation process. It simply becomes a matter of picking a showtime.
And yet, the movies are a fairly traditional place to go for people on dates. This raises the question that I’ve wasted too much time getting around to asking: How important is your significant other’s taste in the cinema to you and your relationship? Obviously, most people don’t live and breathe movies I do — they’re too busy having intercourse — but it still must come up from time to time, particularly on Fridays when a new batch of movies come down the pike.
I’m fairly convinced that romantic comedies are the Great Satan. They’re the most unrealistic, milquetoast and braindead movies I’ve ever had to sit through, and I’ve sat through some real horseshit. On the other hand, I love horror movies, and those are a tough sell on the women-folk. A woman who likes horror movies is a goddess who should be treated as such, unless of course, she likes janky-ass PG-13 bullcrap like “The Ring.”
I’ve dated some women who don’t like action movies. There’s another stumbling block. I’ve become a little more discriminating about action cinema as I’ve gotten older, but I still have a soft spot for brutes like Arnold and Sly as well as slapfighters like Steven Seagal and ballerinas like Jean-Claude Van Damme. I can understand that some gals might not like all the beefcake on display, but who doesn’t like explosions? That’s just un-American.
Foreign films and indies — these can go either way. I like some films from both categories, but not all of them. Subtitles don’t trip me up, and neither do heady pieces with unhappy endings. A gal’s mileage may vary here, not unlike my own. You have to be careful with these types of films when you’re first getting to know someone. Foreign and low-budget filmmakers don’t scrimp on the male and female nudity, which could make for some uncomfortable viewing with a person you’ve just met.
In my last relationship — which was so long ago, Bush I was president — we made the dumb mistake of quid pro quo movie-going. We’d go to something she wanted to see then something I wanted to see. Don’t ever do that. You’ll find yourself sitting through turds like “Kicking and Screaming” or “Just Like Heaven,” movies that will make you wish you’d been born an orangutang. It simply ain’t worth being able to drag her to something with no socially redeeming value.
So what about you? Does your signifcant other’s taste in movies have much of an impact on your cinema-going or is it a non-issue?
-Brad Lohan
Sep
29
“The Blair Witch Project” Is 10 Years Old
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I remember seeing the trailer for “The Blair Witch Project” while I was briefly living in Orlando. In an age when movie trailers often gave away too much, that one didn’t. But I still can remember being genuinely creeped out by a few pull quotes and spooky black-and-white footage of the deep, dark woods. I knew then that I’d have to see the flick as soon as it hit theaters. Of course, this was 1999, and online ticketing was in its infancy. I ultimately having to make three trips(!) to the theater before I was able to get into a screening that wasn’t sold out.
I really enjoyed “The Blair Witch Project” the first time I saw it. I found the film incredibly effective and a touch hilarious. I’m still in awe of how video and black-and-white come across as more visceral than 35mm color film stock. My only problem with the film is that it doesn’t hold up on repeat viewings. It’s also far less effective at home on TV.
A full decade after “The Blair Witch Project” came out of nowhere and walked away with $140 million domestic haul, the film’s influence is still being felt; I just bought my ticket for the midnight showing of the Blair Witch-style film “Paranormal Activity” on Thursday. Unfortunately, the directors Daniel Myrick and Eduardo Sanchez became victims of their own success, and their subsequent output has been paltry at best. The stars of the film also didn’t catapult to superstardom, either.
(On a side note, I actually met Heather Donahue at Amoeba Music back in 2003. She was a real bitch on wheels.)
“Blair Witch” mania reached its saturation point relatively quickly. A rushed sequel, “Book of Shadows: Blair Witch 2,” materialized in theaters a little over a year after the first film’s release. Directed by documentary filmmaker Joe Berlinger, the film is a creatively compromised slasher pic about fans of the first film going out the wood and acting like assholes. On television, MTV began running the show “Fear,” which plunged dumb teenagers into supposedly haunted locations with cameras rigged to their person, so we could watch them freak out and run around in the dark. Theatrically-released knockoffs like “Halloween Resurrection” soon followed. Thankfully, the trend burned itself out by the early-’00s.
There were a dearth of Blair Witch-style flicks for a number of years. But they’ve slowing begun trickling out again. “Cloverfield,” “Diary of the Dead,” and “Quarantine” are recent examples of “found footage” scare flicks. They’re more polished and high-concept than “Blair Witch,” but nowhere near as successful. “Cloverfield” in particular piqued everyone’s interest when its trailer ran before “Transformers” in the summer of ‘07. But by the time the film finally opened the following January, everyone was already burned out on it.
So will “Paranormal Activity” be the next “The Blair Witch Project?” Is Paramount’s handling of the film’s release, platforming it on the midnight movie circuit, creating a level of interest that’ll catapult the film to a $100 million gross, making it the next super-successful ultra-low-budget indie? Or will that level of popularity remain as elusive as the heretofore unseen witch herself?
-Brad Lohan
Sep
28
When I asked, “Will People Actually Watch ‘Stargate: Universe?’” the other day, I had no idea what sort of response I would get. It turns out that, yes, people will indeed. What’s more, almost all of these people think I’m an idiot for being a Gater Hater. I received more comments on that blog than I have for any other piece I’ve written to date. Most were from trolls flaming me, but those are the ones that I find incredibly amusing. Being able to catch hell from some masturgater in Sweden is a why I love the Internet.
That being said, I’m now strangely curious about this program. Part of me wants to see what all the fuss is about. I think that if I can sit through a few episodes of “Star Trek: Voyager,” I can probably take anything. And who knows? Maybe I’ll get into it.
Hell, maybe I’ll become a full-fledged Gater and attend conventions like this one. Michael Shanks is going to be in attendance! And it’s only $30 to get an autograph from him. A photo with Shanks will run you another $45. But it’ll be worth it! I mean, this is Michael “Dr Jackson” Shanks we’re talking about here, not the “one key” guy from “Sex, Lies and Videotape.” (That’s an obscure James Spader reference.) There are even two version of Shanks you can get yourself photographed with — clean or scruffy! That’s a tough call. I think a hardcore Gater — the kind of Gater that men want to be and women want to be with — would pony up the $90 and get himself photographed with both clean Shanks and scruffy Shanks.
Good God, people.
At any rate, I’ve done something I never thought I would do. I added disc one from the first season of “Stargate: SG-1″ to my Netflix queue and bumped it up to the #2 position. I’m going down the rabbit hole or through the Stargate, rather. Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m going to approach this with an open mind. I’ll even forgive a crummy pilot if the show can find its footing in the first few eps. But by that same token, if I’m not compelled to watch the rest of the season after disc one is over, then I’m going to stand by my original position and hate the Gate.
-Brad Lohan
Sep
28
“Nightmare on Elm Street” Trailer
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Before I begin this article, here’s a bit of advice: If your name is Roman Polanski, and Switzerland offers you a Lifetime Achievement, ask them to mail it to you. Anyway, speaking of dudes who have inappropriate relationships with young people, Freddy Krueger is getting the remake treatment from my favorite franchise-killing house of horrors, Platinum Dunes. (How’s that for a segue?)
I’m not thrilled about a “Nightmare on Elm Street” reboot. The thing about slasher films is that the sequels are almost always beat-for-beat remakes anyway. It’s rare that the survivors of one film will appear in a follow-up. If they do, they’re usually snuffed in the opening minutes. At any rate, a remake of an ’80s slasher is redundant. Virtually every Freddy movie retcons his origin, giving him the most complex backstory of any character in modern cinema. So…why are they redoing “A Nightmare on Elm Street” instead of just knocking out another sequel? Who knows?
I’m an easy mark for these types of films, so of course the trailer looks like it hits all the right notes for me. Thing is, that’s pretty much true of any Platinum Dunes remake. I was sold on last February’s “Friday the 13th,” and ended up being the first and only Jason movie I ever hated with every fiber of my being. Platinum Dune remakes have a polished turd-like quality to them. And I’m almost always sucked in.
That being said, does Jackie Earle Haley as Freddy work for you? Check out the trailer from MySpace.
A Nightmare on Elm Street in HD
-Brad Lohan
Sep
27
Will People Actually Watch “Stargate: Universe?”
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I was driving down Beverly Blvd. last night, and I saw a ginormous ad for “Stargate: Universe” on the side of a building. It got me thinking. Just how many “Stargate” TV spinoffs are there, anyway? Let’s see. There’s “Stargate: SG-1,” which ran for 10(!!!) seasons; “Stargate: Infinity;” “Stargate: Atlantis;” the forthcoming “Stargate: Universe;” and the “Stargate: The Ark of Truth” and “Stargate: Continuum” telefilms. Another TV movie, “Stargate: Extinction,” is slated for 2010!
Christ on his throne, that’s a lot of “Stargate.” That’s way too much “Stargate.” Now, I’ll be honest. I saw the original “Stargate” film two or three times in the theater, read the novelization and own the movie on DVD. I even watched the two-hour pilot of “Stargate: SG-1″ when it came out on video. Because it had originally aired on Showtime, there was even brief, partial nudity! I still thought it was a crushing bore and decided to limit the depth and breadth of my “Stargate” fandom to the Roland Emmerich movie.
However, there’s a segment of our population, folks who call themselves “Gaters,” who’ve kept this franchise afloat for over a decade. Yes, according Wikipedia, “Gaters” are legion. They even attend fan conventions like Gatecon and Gateworld. Being a bit of a geek myself, it’s always refreshing to find a community that I can make fun of.
With the advent of DVD, it’s quite possible that there are humans walking among us who’ve seen literally every single “Stargate” film and TV show. They’ve gone even further than that by reading the expanded universe novels and comics. I’ll bet even some of them have written slashfic, deeping the series’ mythology with all the kink the TV shows leave out. Yep, when I Google “stargate slash fiction,” there are about 400K results.
Some of you might think I’m just being a jerk, ripping on people who suffer from an inability to differentiate between good and bad science-fiction. And you would be right. But look at the damage “Stargate” has done. “SG-1″ lasted for three more seasons than “MacGyver.” What a gross misappropriation of Richard Dean Anderson! “Stargate” and all its fans have simply gone too far.
I can only hope this new series is the franchise’s last. How many friggin’ planets out there can these goofballs visit anyway? I mean, the universe isn’t that big…is it?
-Brad Lohan
Sep
26
“Surrogates” Review
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In the new Bruce Willis film “Surrogates,” the whole world is one enormous MMORPG. Mankind has almost entirely been reduced to a species of agoraphobic shut-ins who dispatch heavily-Botoxed android replicas of themselves into the world and live vicariously through them. If that sounds like the kind of high-concept idea which could only exist as a middle-of-the-road September release, that’s because it is!
During the film’s needlessly expository opening moments, the audience is bombarded with all this impenitrible techno-babble and socio-political jibberish about how surrogates came to be. Already, the film has chosen not to surprise us with anything, so we’re braced for all the telegraphed plot twists that come later. It’d have been a much better hook if the writers — Michael Ferris and John Brancato, the guys who brought you “Catwoman!” — had just thrust us into this strange world and made us play catch-up. I know if I saw a dude get hit by a car and his metal guts spill out on the pavement, my curiousity would be piqued.
But the film is another dull techno-thriller in the mold of “I, Robot.” Two surrogates are tasered by some bizarre new weapon, and the surrogates’ users die as well. Because the filmmakers don’t seem to understand what the FBI does, Federal Agents Greer (Bruce Willis) and Peters (Radha Mitchell) are called in to investigate the double-homicide. And even the Feds are surrogates. Willis’ surrogate looks like a life-size action figure of his character from “The Jackal,” bronzed and wearing a goofy blond toupee. Personally, I think Willis should’ve gone with a surrogate who looks like he did in “Die Hard 2″ or even “Hudson Hawk.”
The investigation leads to the Dreads, a community of technology-hating Luddites that live on a reservation — a District-9 for folks that never upconverted to Hi-Def. The Dreads are led by The Prophet (Ving Rhames), and there’s a big intelligence-insulting twist concerning his character. You might be able to guess it if you’re vaguely familiar with the concept of irony.
Director Jonathan Mostow never really reaches for anything beyond perfunctory. Greer and his wife have grown apart since the death of their son. His wife in particular refuses to even leave her room unless its in the form of her surrogate. But their strained relationship is barely explored, nor is the concept of how the surrogate technology has created a certain level of emotional disconnect that makes its users borderline inhuman.
I’d've forgiven the lack of nuance if the movie were a more straightforward actioner. Even in that realm, the film falls short. Surrogates have augmented strength, speed and reflexes, but there’s only one major action setpiece near the midpoint where Greer chases a suspect into the Dread reservation, bounding around like the Six Million Dollar Man. The rest of the movie is fairly lacking in the action department.
And yet, I can’t muster up enough enthusiasm to strongly dislike “Surrogates.” I’m definitely sick of the word “surrogate,” since every line of dialogue in the film contains a noun, a verb and “surrogate.” Nonetheless, the film’s a mediocre time-killer, but not something I’d ever bother watching again. I mean, if the movie taught me anything, it’s that I should get out more.
-Brad Lohan
Sep
25
“Rolling Thunder” Review
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I’ve fallen behind on this column, so I want to bring it back in a big way. That “Rolling Thunder” is not available on DVD is a crime against humanity. John Flynn’s 1977 revenge flick, written by Paul Schrader(!), is a giant of cult cinema. I caught a midnight screening of it at the Nuart a couple years ago. The following Monday, I was trying to explain the film to a female co-worker, and the look on her face told me that, yes, “Rolling Thunder” is definitely a masterpiece.
The film is about Major Charles Rane (William Devane), an ex-POW who returns to his hometown of San Antonio after spending seven years in the Hanoi Hilton. He’s given a hero’s welcome at the airport. Rane gets a new Cadillac and a box of silver dollars, one for every day he was held prisoner, amounting to over $2,000. But Rane feels dislocated. His son doesn’t remember him, and his wife has been having an affair with the local sheriff.
To make matters worse, a group of thugs come to his house looking for his silver dollars. Rane won’t tell them where they’re hidden, so they shove his hand in the garbage disposal and kill his wife and son. They ultimately make off with the loot anyway, leaving a maimed Rane to plot his revenge. He trains himself to load a gun with his prosthetic hook, which he files down to a sharp point. Does he drive the hook through someone else’s hand at some point in the film, you ask? Why, yes, he does indeed.
Clearly, “Rolling Thunder” is the best film imaginable. Quentin Tarantino digs it. He even named his now-defunct film distribution arm Rolling Thunder Pictures. Gene Siskel listed the film as one of the ten best of 1977. The other nine probably don’t have a climactic shootout in a Mexican brothel, so I think “Rolling Thunder” has a distinct advantage.
The film also stars a very young Tommy Lee Jones as one of Rane’s fellow airmen, Johnny Vohden, who joins Rane for the blood-soaked finale. It’s interesting to see Jones play against type. He’s very bottled up and reserved in this film and even more emotionally detached than Rane. For the climax, Vohden even slips back into his dress greens, as though he was going to some sort of event requiring formal attire, not a mass slaughter.
What’s interesting about the film, beyond all the hyperbole I’ve spouted, is the final explosion of violence at the film’s end. Here are two men who’ve been held captive and tortured for nearly a decade. The experience has stripped them of much of their humanity, leaving them unable to readjust to life back in the States. A romantic subplot between Rane and a waitress presents him with the option of moving on with his life after all that’s happened. But Rane can’t forgive everything he’s lost: his family, his hand, seven years of his life. He’s a character who’s physically and psychologically defined by the violence that’s been done to him. And after all the suffering he’s endured, he and Vohden are able to exact their retribution in a gritty and inelegant shootout. The film offers no resolution because there isn’t one. Rane and Vohden have simply returned to the violent world they thought they’d left behind. Roll credits.
(Can anyone tell that I’m back in film school?)
“Rolling Thunder” isn’t an exploitation movie. It might not be “Taxi Driver,” but it does have something to say about repressed violence and impaling people’s hands with prosthetic hooks. And that’s precisely why this mug needs to be on DVD.
-Brad Lohan
Sep
24
I love the Hulk. I mean, talk about a psychologically complex superhero. Hulk and his alter-ego, Bruce Banner, absolutely hate one another. Banner spends most of his time trying to find a cure for his anger-fueled metamorphosis. There’s a certain degree of self-loathing within Batman and Spider-Man. But nothing tops the Hulk’s inner turmoil. What’s more, Hulk is a monster first and a superhero second. He’s actually heroic in spite of himself. When confronted with some superhuman menace, puny Banner can’t effect any positive change. It’s only after he’s turned into the Hulk that the requisite smashing can begin and good can triumph over evil.
So how did Ang Lee screw up what could’ve been a thinking man’s superhero beat-’em up? Well, he ran screaming from the character’s backstory for one thing. The Hulk’s comic book origin is incredibly simple: a scientist is struck with massive levels of radiation when he’s caught in a gamma bomb explosion, and now whenever he’s angered, he transforms into a rampaging green meanie. The 2003 film, however, complicates the hell out of everything, trying to graft needless real-world science onto what will always remain a scientific impossibility. The Hulk is now the product of frog and jellyfish and Nick Nolte DNA mixed with gamma rays…or some shit.
It’s terrifically stupid is what it is.
There are some apologists for the film — folks who were easily impressed by Lee’s use of split-screens to simulate the panels in a comic book. I’d trade the split-screen goofiness, which George A. Romero pulls off much better in “Creepshow” anyway, for a friggin’ gamma bomb explosion.
The most substantial crime “Hulk” commits is being wholly indifferent towards the titular character. It takes forever and a day for the Hulk to finally appear on screen. After ages of boring exposition and the most laughable effects shot of Eric Bana being irradiated by gamma rays, we finally see Jade Jaws…barely. He smashes up a dimly-lit lab before disappearing into the night. The rogues gallery Lee pits against the Hulk is equally dull. Hulk does battle with three irradiated Hulk-Dogs (looking even dumber than they sound) and later the Absorbing Man, a C-list Thor villain. The only worthwhile setpiece in the film has the Army chasing Hulk through the desert. But this doesn’t come until two-thirds of the way into the film when everyone in the audience is too numb to care.
Fighting it out with the military makes for some good money shots, though, all of which appear in the Superbowl teaser for “Hulk.”
-Brad Lohan
Sep
23
“Just When You Thought It Was Safe” Review
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Since I started school, I haven’t been able to do as much recreational reading. But I did recently manage to squeeze in “Just When You Thought It Was Safe: A Jaws Companion” by Pat Jankiewicz. I’d recently attended the Jaws Triple Feature at the Aero, which Jankiewicz hosted, and my fandom for the franchise has been at an all-time high of late. “Jaws 2″ is hovering near the top of my Amazon.com Wish List. A week and a half ago, I had the pleasure of meeting Jankiewicz at the Los Angeles Comic Book and Sci-Fi Convention, where I picked up his book and promptly devoured it like a midnight swimmer.
I thought I knew everything about what had gone on the behind-the-scenes during the making of “Jaws” from having seen the documentary on the DVD and read Peter Biskind’s book, “Easy Riders, Raging Bulls.” But “Just When You Thought It Was Safe” has plenty of new interviews with cast and crew that lend more color to the exhausting shoot. The book also details the making of the three maligned sequels as well as the unproduced follow-ups like the “Airplane!”-style parody, “Jaws 3, People 0.” And now I need to track down a copy of the “Jaws 2″ novelization, a book that’s based on a different, darker script than the one that was actually produced.
“Just When You Thought It Was Safe” was a great antidote to all the dry books on film and screenwriting that I’ve been slogging through for class. I’m an easy mark when it comes to “making of” books, and yet it’s been awhile since I’ve cracked one that I enjoyed as much as this. They’re either photo essays you can get through in 15 minutes or mind-numbingly exhaustive. Jankiewicz’s book has the right balance of interviews and trivia. It should definitely be required reading for fans of the franchise, a beach read to be sure.
-Brad Lohan
Sep
22
Nicolas Cage Is Superman
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I think Nicolas Cage and I are the only two people on Earth who were excited about the idea of a Nicolas Cage playing Superman in Tim Burton’s “Superman Lives” film that never was. It seemed like funky miscasting, but that’s the whole point. No one can top Christopher Reeve. That’s why they should’ve gone in a radically different direction! Superman should’ve been weird, and as Kevin Smith described him in his unproduced script, “Um, ’90s style.” Most people think Superman is boring, that he’s an anachronism. Wouldn’t it be interesting to see him cast against type, to be a wacko who still fights for truth, justice and the American way? Nobody was sold on Michael Keaton as Batman, and yet he’s still the best actor to ever done the cap and cowl. Christian Bale apologists can eat me.
Chud has a short YouTube montage (from a Japanese fansite) of Tim Burton’s costume concepts that culminates with a shot of Cage in a toyetic Superman outfit. Rumor has it that the final image is fake. But the sketches are real. At any rate, Burton was really looking to make a wigged-out Superman flick. Now I’d've preferred an epic failure over the mopey banality that is Bryan Singer’s “Superman Returns.” Alas, it was not to be.
-Brad Lohan