Ah, Planet of the Apes. Cultural icon. One of Charlton Heston's most notable roles. It's created some of our favorite jokes over the years. Who could forget "Take your stinking paws off me, you damned dirty ape!" or "It's a mad house! A mad house!" or, of course, "You maniacs! You blew it up! Ah, damn you! God damn you all to hell!"
Well, that was 1968. That film spawned no less than three sequels of declining quality. Then the series went dead fora decade or two. In 2001, Tim Burton tried to remake the original, sans its awesome final twist, but the less said about that film the better. Now, in 2011, we have Rise of the Planet of the Apes. Depending on your point of view, Rise is either an out-and-out prequel or a remake of Conquest of the Planet of the Apes, one of the lesser sequels. And you know what? It's pretty good.
Rise of the Planet of the Apes (2011) is about Caesar (Andy Serkis), an ape who as a result of medical experimentation is born with vastly increased intelligence. I say that the movie is about Caesar because despite the presence of some big-name actors in the film, Caesar appears to be the only fully-developed character. Here's the set-up. Will Rodman (James Franco) is a geneticist desperate to cure his ailing father (John Lithgow) of Alzheimers disease. To that end, he has created a drug that allows the brain to repair itself. A side-effect of this drug is that the brain continues to build even after it's repaired, leading to increased intelligence. Caesar is one of the first apes to benefit from the drug's effects. We follow Caesar's life as he is raised amongst humans, discovers he is not one of them, and struggles to find his place in the world.
I don't want to give anything away here. I enjoyed the film and I wholeheartedly recommend it, if only to watch Andy Serkis at work. The man has a history of great performances, from The Lord of the Rings (Gollum) to King Kong (uh, Kong), but they're all outshined by his work here. Serkis's Caesar is a living breathing primate, but also so much more. CGI has still only come so far, but Serkis makes us believe in the character nonetheless. Here is a CGI character with eyes that actually feel alive; you can actually watch the character working things out without a word spoken. One of the best parts of the film is watching Caesar learn to interact with other primates becoming a leader on the strength of his wit.
The other actors are competent, but ultimately unremarkable. Franco does a good-enough job as the scientist with a personal stake in his work. He's played as a bit of a milque-toast character, all compassion but very little personality. Frida Pinto as his girlfriend Caroline, however, is wasted. She's there simply because without her, there wouldn't be a single female character in the film. She adds nothing to the proceedings. John Lithgow does an excellent job with his limited screentime as Will's father. Lithgow is a gifted actor and it shows as he makes his conrfused character pitiable but avoids annoyance. David Oyelowo plays Will's evil corporate boss (because anything that's for-profit must be evil), who of course gets his, and rounding out the cast is the venerable Brian Cox (X-Men 2) as the owner of an ape sanctuary where Caesar cuts his teeth in battles against the owner's son, played by that master of screen bullies, Tom Felton (Harry Potter's Draco Malfoy). Cox and Felton are missed opportunities for greatness as well. Cox in particular is almost non-existent, muttering a line here and there as he stumbles through the film.
Despite the wasted cast, the film itself is quite good; it addresses nearly all of the problems lurking in its premise. Problems such as: How many apes can Caesar actually gather and make smarter in a few days? Even after they start rebelling, can't we just shoot them down? Even if they get away, won't we just hunt them down eventually? There aren't that many of them! How can a few genetically-altered apes take over the whole world? Have a little faith. The film addresses these things very well.
So again, I recommend this movie. Go, enjoy.
Monday, August 29, 2011
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
De Oratore
Sometimes, verbage is everything.
The Olive Garden, that cesspool of imitation Italian cuisine, recently ran an advertisment that has been bugging me. Just as a side note, Olive Garden sucks. Their bread is cardboard and their pasta is drowned in crappy imitation sauces. I believe my friend Johnathan Cartelli once told me that the only way he'd ever bring his grandfather to Olive Garden would be if he was punishing him for something, or if he wanted to kill him. I can't remember; with John it could have been either. Or both.
In any event, the Garden recently ran an advertisement for their never-ending pasta bowl (another testament to our ever-fattening society). You can watch the ad here. It begins with a bunch of young decently attractive people sitting around a table at the titular restaurant, and their conversation goes something like this:
First, there's the possibility that she wanted the movie to never end. In other words, she wanted that particular film to go on ad infinitum, consuming her entire life and continuing onwards even after her death. And my friends, her death in this situation would not be pretty. Her wish would have doomed her to watching this film for the rest of her days, forsaking food and drink, use of the restroom and personal hygiene (she looks like the kind of person who wouldn't dare sneak out of the theater to use the bathroom - and we all know people who swing the other way on this one). She would end up a stinky emaciated lifeless husk, her rubbery flesh melded into the theater seat and her image-bombarded eyeballs long receded from their sockets. I don't think she meant this, and if she was granted this wish, one would only hope that she would immediately regret the horror she had inflicted upon herself, her friends and the other moviegoers. So let's put possibility one to rest.
Possibility two is probably the one she meant. I think it's far more likely, anyway. Possibility two is that she meant to say this: At no point during the film did she actively want it to be over. This is not a glowing review of a film, people. It doesn't mean the film was great. It doesn't even mean it was good. It simply meant that this lady managed to sit through the whole thing without begging for it to end. That's a ridiculous way to review a film. It's a ridiculous way to evaluate anything. That would be like having a coversation like this:
Here's what really happened. The man in the commercial was trying to start a nice conversation. "That movie was great," he said. He was trying to get a discussion going. And what did she do? The speaking equivalent of puking on his shoes. She said nothing of substance. Worse, her asinine comment steered the conversation away from the movie and towards the food! The lady across from her says, "Hey, at least the pasta is never-ending." And that's it. Everyone laughs and the conversation that guy wanted to have about the movie is dead in the water. Watch that guy for the rest of the commerical - he is not happy. He looks at her at the very end - I wonder if he's thinking in words or if it's just a red murderous haze at that point.
Verbage is important, people. That commercial's been in my head all morning. Makes me hungry. Maybe I'll have Italian tonight.
The Olive Garden, that cesspool of imitation Italian cuisine, recently ran an advertisment that has been bugging me. Just as a side note, Olive Garden sucks. Their bread is cardboard and their pasta is drowned in crappy imitation sauces. I believe my friend Johnathan Cartelli once told me that the only way he'd ever bring his grandfather to Olive Garden would be if he was punishing him for something, or if he wanted to kill him. I can't remember; with John it could have been either. Or both.
In any event, the Garden recently ran an advertisement for their never-ending pasta bowl (another testament to our ever-fattening society). You can watch the ad here. It begins with a bunch of young decently attractive people sitting around a table at the titular restaurant, and their conversation goes something like this:
Man: That movie was great.Hold it, wait. What? The group moves on to talk about the meal ("Well at least the pasta is never ending!"), but I can't. I have to address this. What did she mean she never wanted it to end? There are at least two possibilities that I can think of.
Woman: I know, I never wanted it to end.
First, there's the possibility that she wanted the movie to never end. In other words, she wanted that particular film to go on ad infinitum, consuming her entire life and continuing onwards even after her death. And my friends, her death in this situation would not be pretty. Her wish would have doomed her to watching this film for the rest of her days, forsaking food and drink, use of the restroom and personal hygiene (she looks like the kind of person who wouldn't dare sneak out of the theater to use the bathroom - and we all know people who swing the other way on this one). She would end up a stinky emaciated lifeless husk, her rubbery flesh melded into the theater seat and her image-bombarded eyeballs long receded from their sockets. I don't think she meant this, and if she was granted this wish, one would only hope that she would immediately regret the horror she had inflicted upon herself, her friends and the other moviegoers. So let's put possibility one to rest.
Possibility two is probably the one she meant. I think it's far more likely, anyway. Possibility two is that she meant to say this: At no point during the film did she actively want it to be over. This is not a glowing review of a film, people. It doesn't mean the film was great. It doesn't even mean it was good. It simply meant that this lady managed to sit through the whole thing without begging for it to end. That's a ridiculous way to review a film. It's a ridiculous way to evaluate anything. That would be like having a coversation like this:
Man: Hey, your friend Leo is a great friend.That doesn't mean he's a great friend. That simply means that I've never actively prayed for his death. It means I wouldn't kill my friend Leo for a quarter and a Snickers bar. And you know what? That's not even true. I totally would.
Me: I know, I've never wanted him dead.
Here's what really happened. The man in the commercial was trying to start a nice conversation. "That movie was great," he said. He was trying to get a discussion going. And what did she do? The speaking equivalent of puking on his shoes. She said nothing of substance. Worse, her asinine comment steered the conversation away from the movie and towards the food! The lady across from her says, "Hey, at least the pasta is never-ending." And that's it. Everyone laughs and the conversation that guy wanted to have about the movie is dead in the water. Watch that guy for the rest of the commerical - he is not happy. He looks at her at the very end - I wonder if he's thinking in words or if it's just a red murderous haze at that point.
Verbage is important, people. That commercial's been in my head all morning. Makes me hungry. Maybe I'll have Italian tonight.
Friday, August 5, 2011
Time Warner Cable is the Salesman from Family Guy
For over a month, my cable box has been unplugged. It's still sitting where it's always been, nestled nice and neat on the shelf beneath my TV, snuggled between by Xbox 360 and my Playstation 3. If I wanted to, I could use it to watch cable, in HD no less. But a month ago, I decided to conduct an experiment. I unplugged the cable box, took out the HDMI cable, and let it sit. I wanted to see how long I could go without watching. Turns out I can go indefinitely.
I undertook this experiment when I realized that the $120 I was paying per month for Time Warner Cable and Internet was ricockulous and was bleeding me dry. Having concluded that I can easily live without cable TV service, I called Time Warner this morning in order to cancel cable and continue with internet only. A very nice woman (let's call her "Tina") answered the phone, and the conversation went something like this:
Tina: Time Warner Cable, my name is Tina, ask me how you can save by getting our triple play deal, how can I help you?
Adam: Hi, Tina. I'd like to cancel my cable subscription and continue with internet only.
Tina: Okay well I'm very sad to hear that. Could you tell me why you're choosing to downgrade your services?
Adam: $120 a month to watch TV just seems like a bit much, especially when I can get all my content online.
Tina: Okay. Well what channels do you usually watch?
Adam: That's... embarrassing. Mostly, ah... Cartoon Network.
Tina:
Adam: ...Yeah.
Tina: ... And, um, you're paying $120 now?
Adam: That's right.
Tina: Well let's see, what if we could do a promotional offer for you? What if we could take $10 off of your bill every month, so you'd be paying $107?
Adam: That's.... wait, what?
Tina: It'd be a promotional offer for two years.
Adam: I don't know. You'd have to go significantly below $100 for me to even think -
Tina: What if we could give you the same services you have now for $89 per month?
Adam: What? You can do that?
Tina: As a promotional offer, we can give you two years at that rate.
I want you to think about what this means. This means that if you call to cancel your cable subscription, they can offer to drop your bill by over $30 per month. Taking that string of logic a bit further, it means that they are overcharging us by at least $30 per month simply because they can, because we don't complain.
I did not take Tina up on her offer. With internet service for $50 per month and a Roku 2 XS, I'll be able to watch anything I want in HD.
I undertook this experiment when I realized that the $120 I was paying per month for Time Warner Cable and Internet was ricockulous and was bleeding me dry. Having concluded that I can easily live without cable TV service, I called Time Warner this morning in order to cancel cable and continue with internet only. A very nice woman (let's call her "Tina") answered the phone, and the conversation went something like this:
Tina: Time Warner Cable, my name is Tina, ask me how you can save by getting our triple play deal, how can I help you?
Adam: Hi, Tina. I'd like to cancel my cable subscription and continue with internet only.
Tina: Okay well I'm very sad to hear that. Could you tell me why you're choosing to downgrade your services?
Adam: $120 a month to watch TV just seems like a bit much, especially when I can get all my content online.
Tina: Okay. Well what channels do you usually watch?
Adam: That's... embarrassing. Mostly, ah... Cartoon Network.
Tina:
Adam: ...Yeah.
Tina: ... And, um, you're paying $120 now?
Adam: That's right.
Tina: Well let's see, what if we could do a promotional offer for you? What if we could take $10 off of your bill every month, so you'd be paying $107?
Adam: That's.... wait, what?
Tina: It'd be a promotional offer for two years.
Adam: I don't know. You'd have to go significantly below $100 for me to even think -
Tina: What if we could give you the same services you have now for $89 per month?
Adam: What? You can do that?
Tina: As a promotional offer, we can give you two years at that rate.
I want you to think about what this means. This means that if you call to cancel your cable subscription, they can offer to drop your bill by over $30 per month. Taking that string of logic a bit further, it means that they are overcharging us by at least $30 per month simply because they can, because we don't complain.
I did not take Tina up on her offer. With internet service for $50 per month and a Roku 2 XS, I'll be able to watch anything I want in HD.
Monday, June 27, 2011
Victory!
Today is a good day. Today I am proud to be an American, a New Yorker and an attorney. Today our nation, the United States of America, has taken a huge step forward in the area of human rights and liberties. We should all be proud to be a part of it. I am speaking, of course, about the Supreme Court's declaration today that video games are protected speech under the first amendment.
Why, did something else happen?
In Brown v. Entertainment Merchants Association, 564 U.S ____ (2011), decided June 27, 2011, the Supreme Court in a 7-2 decision struck down California Assembly Bill 1179 (2005), which forbade the sale of "violent video games" to minors and imposed a fine for each violation. It marks the end of a 6-year legal battle between the State of California and the Entertainment Software Association (ESA) and a significant victory for freedom of expression in entertainment. The full decision can be read here. Why is this a big deal? What's so bad about forbidding the sale of "evil" materials to minors? Let's break it down.
Taken from the opinion of the court, California Assembly Bill 1179 (2005) (which can be read here) prohibits the sale or rental of certain games to minors and requires their packaging to be labeled "18". The act covers games "in which the range of options available to a player includes killing, maiming, dismembering, or sexually assaulting an image of a human being, if those acts are depicted" in a manner that "a reasonable person, considering the game as a whole, would find appeals to a deviant or morbid interest of minors," that is "patently offensive to prevailing standards in the community as to what is suitable for minors," and that "causes the game, as a whole, to lack erious literary, artistic, political, or scientific value for minors." 1746(d)(1)(A). Violation of the act is punishable by a civil fine of up to $1,000. 1746.3 The law was taken up by the ESA for a pre-enforcement challenge and the California Supreme Court found it unconstitutional. The Circuit Court for the Ninth Circuit affirmed, and we find outselves at the Supreme Court.
I can see where California is coming from. As an alleged adult and potential parent, I can understand wanting to protect my child from some of the more deplorable media available out there. To a certain extent, the standard California was attempting to apply here is comparable to the standard that states in the past have attempted to apply to other media when classified as "obscenity." Production or promotion of "obscenity" has been criminalized but the California law stopped short of that, prohibiting only the sale of so-classified games to minors. In essence, it would have treated certain games like pornography.
Furthermore, studies have shown that those who enjoy video games are aging. The average gamer, according to this site, is now 37 years old and has been playing for at least 12 years and the average age of the most frequent game purchaser is 41 years old. That means that California's law (which, again, proposed only to restrict the sale of certain games to people under age 18) would not restrict the sale of electronic entertainment to its most active and passionate supporters.
The ESRB also has its own rating system, similar to that of the MPAA. Like the ratings attached to movies - PG-13, R, NC-17 - games have a similar system, self-imposed, running from E for everyone to AO for adults only. The ESA reports that 76% of all games sold in 2010 were rated "E" for Everyone, "T" for Teen, or "E10+" for Everyone 10+. Wikipedia reports that in the history of ESRB ratings, only 21 games have ever gotten the dreaded AO. None of these games have ever sold well (nor have they ever been reviewed well either). Just as certain movies have been damaged financially by an undeserved NC-17 rating, so too have games been damaged by an AO rating. The imposition of California's law (which could apply to games rated M as well) could widen this damage and lead skittish game companies to play it safe, depriving adults of their entertainment.
Luckily, the Supreme Court has alleviated this fear. The majority's opinion calls to attention the curious distinction America has made between depictions of sex and violence. The distribution of depictions of sexual content, according to the opinion, has long been restricted in this country as obscene. Had California's law been tailored to sexual content instead of violence, therefore, it appears that it would have had a greater chance of being upheld. The opinion then traces America's long history of attempts at censorship of violence. The majority wisely points out the graphic depictions of violence in childrens' books, from Grimm's Fairy Tales (did you know that the wicked queen in Snow White is forced to dance in red hot slippers until she dies?) to the Odyssey, to the Lord of the Flies (Piggy's murder). They then point to the attempts to ban everything from trashy novels to movies to radio dramas and comic books - each effort has eventually failed.
In the end, the Supreme Court declares that video games are protected speech under the first amendment. Therefore, a law can only restrict this speech based on its content if it passes the strict scrutiny test. The law must be justified by a "compelling government interest" and must be "narrowly drawn to serve that interest." California's law cannot pass this test. California cannot prove the existence of a link between violent video games and harm to children. They tried to do so by way of competing psychological studies, but the Court wisely concludes that these studies are deeply flawed. The studies show that violent video games produce the same psychological results as watching Bugs Bunny cartoons, playing Sonic the Hedgehog or viewing a photograph of a gun. As the court states, "California has (wisely) declined to restrict Saturday morning cartoons, the sale of games rated for young children, or the distribution of pictures of guns."
It comes down to the fact that the law is wildly underinclusive. "Here, California has singled out the purveyors of video games for disfavored treatment - at least when compared to booksellers, cartoonists, and movies producers - and has given no persusive reason why." They go on to talk about other things as well - about the ESRB's rating system and how the law doesn't really seem an effective way to assist parents who don't want their kids getting their hands on these things.
I could go on with this all day, as it's fascinating to me, but I have work to do. If you got this far and don't want to scroll up again, read the opinion here and let me know what you think.
Why, did something else happen?
In Brown v. Entertainment Merchants Association, 564 U.S ____ (2011), decided June 27, 2011, the Supreme Court in a 7-2 decision struck down California Assembly Bill 1179 (2005), which forbade the sale of "violent video games" to minors and imposed a fine for each violation. It marks the end of a 6-year legal battle between the State of California and the Entertainment Software Association (ESA) and a significant victory for freedom of expression in entertainment. The full decision can be read here. Why is this a big deal? What's so bad about forbidding the sale of "evil" materials to minors? Let's break it down.
Taken from the opinion of the court, California Assembly Bill 1179 (2005) (which can be read here) prohibits the sale or rental of certain games to minors and requires their packaging to be labeled "18". The act covers games "in which the range of options available to a player includes killing, maiming, dismembering, or sexually assaulting an image of a human being, if those acts are depicted" in a manner that "a reasonable person, considering the game as a whole, would find appeals to a deviant or morbid interest of minors," that is "patently offensive to prevailing standards in the community as to what is suitable for minors," and that "causes the game, as a whole, to lack erious literary, artistic, political, or scientific value for minors." 1746(d)(1)(A). Violation of the act is punishable by a civil fine of up to $1,000. 1746.3 The law was taken up by the ESA for a pre-enforcement challenge and the California Supreme Court found it unconstitutional. The Circuit Court for the Ninth Circuit affirmed, and we find outselves at the Supreme Court.
I can see where California is coming from. As an alleged adult and potential parent, I can understand wanting to protect my child from some of the more deplorable media available out there. To a certain extent, the standard California was attempting to apply here is comparable to the standard that states in the past have attempted to apply to other media when classified as "obscenity." Production or promotion of "obscenity" has been criminalized but the California law stopped short of that, prohibiting only the sale of so-classified games to minors. In essence, it would have treated certain games like pornography.
Furthermore, studies have shown that those who enjoy video games are aging. The average gamer, according to this site, is now 37 years old and has been playing for at least 12 years and the average age of the most frequent game purchaser is 41 years old. That means that California's law (which, again, proposed only to restrict the sale of certain games to people under age 18) would not restrict the sale of electronic entertainment to its most active and passionate supporters.
The ESRB also has its own rating system, similar to that of the MPAA. Like the ratings attached to movies - PG-13, R, NC-17 - games have a similar system, self-imposed, running from E for everyone to AO for adults only. The ESA reports that 76% of all games sold in 2010 were rated "E" for Everyone, "T" for Teen, or "E10+" for Everyone 10+. Wikipedia reports that in the history of ESRB ratings, only 21 games have ever gotten the dreaded AO. None of these games have ever sold well (nor have they ever been reviewed well either). Just as certain movies have been damaged financially by an undeserved NC-17 rating, so too have games been damaged by an AO rating. The imposition of California's law (which could apply to games rated M as well) could widen this damage and lead skittish game companies to play it safe, depriving adults of their entertainment.
Luckily, the Supreme Court has alleviated this fear. The majority's opinion calls to attention the curious distinction America has made between depictions of sex and violence. The distribution of depictions of sexual content, according to the opinion, has long been restricted in this country as obscene. Had California's law been tailored to sexual content instead of violence, therefore, it appears that it would have had a greater chance of being upheld. The opinion then traces America's long history of attempts at censorship of violence. The majority wisely points out the graphic depictions of violence in childrens' books, from Grimm's Fairy Tales (did you know that the wicked queen in Snow White is forced to dance in red hot slippers until she dies?) to the Odyssey, to the Lord of the Flies (Piggy's murder). They then point to the attempts to ban everything from trashy novels to movies to radio dramas and comic books - each effort has eventually failed.
In the end, the Supreme Court declares that video games are protected speech under the first amendment. Therefore, a law can only restrict this speech based on its content if it passes the strict scrutiny test. The law must be justified by a "compelling government interest" and must be "narrowly drawn to serve that interest." California's law cannot pass this test. California cannot prove the existence of a link between violent video games and harm to children. They tried to do so by way of competing psychological studies, but the Court wisely concludes that these studies are deeply flawed. The studies show that violent video games produce the same psychological results as watching Bugs Bunny cartoons, playing Sonic the Hedgehog or viewing a photograph of a gun. As the court states, "California has (wisely) declined to restrict Saturday morning cartoons, the sale of games rated for young children, or the distribution of pictures of guns."
It comes down to the fact that the law is wildly underinclusive. "Here, California has singled out the purveyors of video games for disfavored treatment - at least when compared to booksellers, cartoonists, and movies producers - and has given no persusive reason why." They go on to talk about other things as well - about the ESRB's rating system and how the law doesn't really seem an effective way to assist parents who don't want their kids getting their hands on these things.
I could go on with this all day, as it's fascinating to me, but I have work to do. If you got this far and don't want to scroll up again, read the opinion here and let me know what you think.
Monday, March 14, 2011
Review: Battle Los Angeles
Oh hot damn.
Battle: Los Angeles (2011) is Independence Day (1996) told from the perspective of a single unit of marines. On the day before he is set to retire, Staff Sergeant Micheal Nantz (Aaron Eckhart) is called back into active service to lead Echo Company, 2nd battalion, 5th Marine regiment as they conduct an evacuation of western Santa Monica during what is thought to be a meteor shower. It doesn't take long for the marines to encounter the real threat and from then on the film is a constant barrage of action and suspense.
It's a video game on film. That's what it is and that's what you should expect from it. The sad part about that is that there are plenty of games with really good stories. But if you were to boil down the concept of a video game, a military shooter against aliens, and throw out every good dramatic idea, you'd get this. Imagine if someone had read a book containing every military movie cliche ever used and decided to use that as his script bible. Let's check off the cliches:
The problems are completely on the written page. Everything is predictable, everything is cliche. Every line of dialogue is an unintentional laugh-riot. At one point Nantz gives a long emotional speech about his dark past. He follows up this powerful speech with the line: "But none of that matters any more." Half the audience fell out of their chairs. At another moment, Nantz notices that the aliens are particularly difficult to kill. The team manages to capture one damaged but alive and attempt surgery to find any weaknesses. After tearing through endless layers of tough armor (it took several minutes of screen time), Nantz plunges his knife into something soft and exclaims, "Here! This is it!" So all we have to do is shoot through tons of layers of ridiculously strong armor? Thanks man, good advice.
SPOILERS (I guess)
But the icing on the cake is when the team finally realizes the enemy mothership's secret weakness: Missiles! And after their success, they return to base to hear that the details of their amazing strategy are being broadcast all over the world. My god, we never thought to shoot missiles at them! Finally, now that we've figured out what to do, we can take those alien sons of bitches down!
Wait, what?
Missiles? What have you been doing, throwing rocks at the things?
That it took even half a second for the American military to decide to chuck an explosive at something that disagreed with them is ridiculous. It's so ridiculous, in fact, that it was all anyone could talk about as they exited the theater. Hell, even in Independence Day they had at least enough brains to show us that explosives, even nuclear explosives, were useless against the invaders. These guys are chumps!
Sigh. There's a game adaptation of this movie that will be released in the next few weeks for download on Xbox 360 and PS3. Maybe that'll have a better story.
A few years ago there was a huge clamor over the possibility of a movie based on the Halo games. Peter Jackson was involved, then Neil Blomkamp (District 9). Then the whole thing fell apart. People were pissed. They thought that a movie based on Halo would be epic and fantastic. And for everyone under that belief, for everyone who still believes that video game concepts make for awesome movies, my response is "No, they don't." Why not? Battle: Los Angeles.
Battle: Los Angeles (2011) is Independence Day (1996) told from the perspective of a single unit of marines. On the day before he is set to retire, Staff Sergeant Micheal Nantz (Aaron Eckhart) is called back into active service to lead Echo Company, 2nd battalion, 5th Marine regiment as they conduct an evacuation of western Santa Monica during what is thought to be a meteor shower. It doesn't take long for the marines to encounter the real threat and from then on the film is a constant barrage of action and suspense.
It's a video game on film. That's what it is and that's what you should expect from it. The sad part about that is that there are plenty of games with really good stories. But if you were to boil down the concept of a video game, a military shooter against aliens, and throw out every good dramatic idea, you'd get this. Imagine if someone had read a book containing every military movie cliche ever used and decided to use that as his script bible. Let's check off the cliches:
- Commanding Officer a single day away from retirement with a dark past
- Young virgin soldier
- Soldier with a pregnant wife
- Soldier about to get married
- Soldier with a dead brother (who blames the new Staff Sergeant)
- Single latino parent with a young child
- Brave young latino child
The problems are completely on the written page. Everything is predictable, everything is cliche. Every line of dialogue is an unintentional laugh-riot. At one point Nantz gives a long emotional speech about his dark past. He follows up this powerful speech with the line: "But none of that matters any more." Half the audience fell out of their chairs. At another moment, Nantz notices that the aliens are particularly difficult to kill. The team manages to capture one damaged but alive and attempt surgery to find any weaknesses. After tearing through endless layers of tough armor (it took several minutes of screen time), Nantz plunges his knife into something soft and exclaims, "Here! This is it!" So all we have to do is shoot through tons of layers of ridiculously strong armor? Thanks man, good advice.
SPOILERS (I guess)
But the icing on the cake is when the team finally realizes the enemy mothership's secret weakness: Missiles! And after their success, they return to base to hear that the details of their amazing strategy are being broadcast all over the world. My god, we never thought to shoot missiles at them! Finally, now that we've figured out what to do, we can take those alien sons of bitches down!
Wait, what?
Missiles? What have you been doing, throwing rocks at the things?
That it took even half a second for the American military to decide to chuck an explosive at something that disagreed with them is ridiculous. It's so ridiculous, in fact, that it was all anyone could talk about as they exited the theater. Hell, even in Independence Day they had at least enough brains to show us that explosives, even nuclear explosives, were useless against the invaders. These guys are chumps!
Sigh. There's a game adaptation of this movie that will be released in the next few weeks for download on Xbox 360 and PS3. Maybe that'll have a better story.
Friday, January 7, 2011
Friday, December 31, 2010
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Review: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part I
I've read all seven books and now I've seen seven out of the eight films. This is the best film, made from what was in my opinion the best book. For six books and six movies, Harry Potter (Daniel Radcliffe) has gone to school and basked in the glow of Hogwarts, protected by his teachers and surrounded by friends. For six books and movies, he has solved a mystery, beaten a villain and saved the day in time to enjoy the last day of school. That's not to say it's always been easy or completely free of loss or pain, but the training wheels were on.
This time the training wheels are gone. Dumbledore (Michael Gambon) is dead, the Ministry has fallen and nowhere is safe. Harry faces attacks at all of his prior hiding spots, from the Dursley home to the Burrow and even at the Ministry itself. Hogwarts is so dangerous he doesn't even dare venture there. Meanwhile friends are dying all around him while others who before were harmless annoyances are now dangerous enemies. It's been said that the world has an Orwellian / Nazi-ish feel and I agree with that. With Voldemort in power, Harry is number one on the most wanted list. The Ministry is turning itself inside out looking for "mudbloods," people born with muggle ancestry. The Ministry's guards even look like SS agents.
The whole thing is astonishingly bleak. There's something refreshing and intense about this movie. Watching with my buddy Leo, we recoiled in shock during the opening motorcycle chase as cars flipped and exploded, killing innocent bystanders. There's a body count here. They're not f**king around. The old Harry Potter structure, with mystery interspersed with classes and teenage drama, is gone. Harry spends the entire movie on the run, camping out in the woods with Ron (Rupert Grint) and Hermione (Emma Watson, ever the fox). Instead of seeing the same old Hogwarts hallways and classrooms, we're now treated to expansive vistas of the English countryside.
A lot of people have groused about "Harry Potter and the Great Camping Adventure," but I'm really happy the film took its time and played up the hopelessness of the situation. No adults. No family. No help. Just Harry, Hermione and Ron in the woods, running for their lives. The world has gone cold and dark and the kids have only each other. There's a scene in the middle of this section with no dialogue. Listening to the radio with its endless stream of death notices and bad news, Harry and Hermione happen upon a piece of music ("O'Children" by Nick Cave, look it up). Seizing the moment, they dance. They keep dancing as long as they can hear the song. When the song ends, their mood drops and the scene ends. Message received.
A word about performances. The kids (now adults) are great here. Radcliffe isn't the whiny little bitch we were afraid he'd be. He is smart and resourceful yet emotional and believable. We can actually see him working things out behind his eyes. Radcliffe has grown into a great actor and I'm excited to see what he'll do beyond the Potterverse. Rupert Grint remains servicable as ever, even if his performance doesn't rise to the level that the others' do. Emma Watson, however, is fantastic. She is able to portray Hermione not as a little girl but as a full adult, a woman gifted and cursed with a brilliant mind, struggling to both comprehend and control her emotions. She seems to be playing Hermione's feelings for Harry and Ron close to the vest, but maybe that's just my perspective. There is a love triangle here that wasn't really touched upon in the book.
Someone at work asked me what I thought of the movie. I started to explain what I've written above, but she cut me off. "Isn't this a children's movie?" she asked, flabbergasted. I gave my opinion that in fact it was not, that it was instead an epic intended for everyone. "That's ridiculous," she laughed. "I stopped reading after the second book." It was then that I realized that we were not really having a discussion. Point is, you may laugh at my analysis above. You may dismiss Harry Potter and everything attached to it as "for kids." But if you make that mistake, it's you who's missing out. The books are great, the movies are great, and this is the best of both. Enjoy.
This time the training wheels are gone. Dumbledore (Michael Gambon) is dead, the Ministry has fallen and nowhere is safe. Harry faces attacks at all of his prior hiding spots, from the Dursley home to the Burrow and even at the Ministry itself. Hogwarts is so dangerous he doesn't even dare venture there. Meanwhile friends are dying all around him while others who before were harmless annoyances are now dangerous enemies. It's been said that the world has an Orwellian / Nazi-ish feel and I agree with that. With Voldemort in power, Harry is number one on the most wanted list. The Ministry is turning itself inside out looking for "mudbloods," people born with muggle ancestry. The Ministry's guards even look like SS agents.
The whole thing is astonishingly bleak. There's something refreshing and intense about this movie. Watching with my buddy Leo, we recoiled in shock during the opening motorcycle chase as cars flipped and exploded, killing innocent bystanders. There's a body count here. They're not f**king around. The old Harry Potter structure, with mystery interspersed with classes and teenage drama, is gone. Harry spends the entire movie on the run, camping out in the woods with Ron (Rupert Grint) and Hermione (Emma Watson, ever the fox). Instead of seeing the same old Hogwarts hallways and classrooms, we're now treated to expansive vistas of the English countryside.
A lot of people have groused about "Harry Potter and the Great Camping Adventure," but I'm really happy the film took its time and played up the hopelessness of the situation. No adults. No family. No help. Just Harry, Hermione and Ron in the woods, running for their lives. The world has gone cold and dark and the kids have only each other. There's a scene in the middle of this section with no dialogue. Listening to the radio with its endless stream of death notices and bad news, Harry and Hermione happen upon a piece of music ("O'Children" by Nick Cave, look it up). Seizing the moment, they dance. They keep dancing as long as they can hear the song. When the song ends, their mood drops and the scene ends. Message received.
A word about performances. The kids (now adults) are great here. Radcliffe isn't the whiny little bitch we were afraid he'd be. He is smart and resourceful yet emotional and believable. We can actually see him working things out behind his eyes. Radcliffe has grown into a great actor and I'm excited to see what he'll do beyond the Potterverse. Rupert Grint remains servicable as ever, even if his performance doesn't rise to the level that the others' do. Emma Watson, however, is fantastic. She is able to portray Hermione not as a little girl but as a full adult, a woman gifted and cursed with a brilliant mind, struggling to both comprehend and control her emotions. She seems to be playing Hermione's feelings for Harry and Ron close to the vest, but maybe that's just my perspective. There is a love triangle here that wasn't really touched upon in the book.
Someone at work asked me what I thought of the movie. I started to explain what I've written above, but she cut me off. "Isn't this a children's movie?" she asked, flabbergasted. I gave my opinion that in fact it was not, that it was instead an epic intended for everyone. "That's ridiculous," she laughed. "I stopped reading after the second book." It was then that I realized that we were not really having a discussion. Point is, you may laugh at my analysis above. You may dismiss Harry Potter and everything attached to it as "for kids." But if you make that mistake, it's you who's missing out. The books are great, the movies are great, and this is the best of both. Enjoy.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Monday, September 20, 2010
Friday, September 17, 2010
The Man From Awesome
Recently, I met a diplomat - a man who claimed to be from the country known as Awesome. Awesome doesn't appear on any maps. You can't find it on a globe or on your computer. This is, I was told, because you are not awesome enough to find Awesome. Searches on Wikipedia don't work either, although the man from Awesome told me he had attempted to make such a page and was denied.
"Wikipedia just wasn't awesome enough," he said.
The man from Awesome was fascinating, although he of course preferred to be called awesome. He was tall and thin, dressed in a dark charcoal suit with a white shirt and light blue tie. His hair was always parted to his left, although a stray hair would stand up from time to time. He described his home by only its name. When asked about the immigration policy, he replied that there was none. "You must be born awesome," he calmly explained.
As we walked together, our interview continued. He told me that the national flag was black. Just black. No patterns, no images, no stripes or stars or symbols of any kind. "When we get on the battlefield, and you see that black flag coming towards you," he said wistfully, "Shit goes bananas." He then described Awesome's unique brand of armed forces, also described as awesome. When asked for the national pastime, his reply was an obscene sexual remark regarding my mother. Then he asked if I would like to see the national bird and made a rude gesture with his right hand.
Observing his briefcase, I asked if he was part of Awesome's national government. "We have no government," he replied. "Everyone's just awesome." I was intrigued, having devoted years of study to my own country's form of democracy and legal structure. I asked how decisions were made, if there was a council or a senate. He shook his head. "Can't have a Senate, everyone's too awesome," he said. "If we had a Senate, it would just be a hundred awesome people constantly high-fiving. That would make your arm fall off and that would not be awesome."
Awesome's national currency was, of course, the awesome. The man from Awesome pointed at his bottle of soda and proclaimed that in his country, the bottle would cost but one awesome. When asked if this was roughly equivalent to the American dollar, he waved his hand and said that he could not think in dollars, but only in awesome. This confused me at first but as it turns out, the plural of awesome is also awesome. I struggled to understand how a people could survive on such a currency, but the man from Awesome assuaged my fears. "Everyone gets a stipend of awesome," he said. "We're all too awesome to work." He also stated that the chief export of Awesome was, of course, awesome. I could only assume that the nation had been fortunate enough to be located just above a vast, almost unlimited supply of the precious resource.
The man from Awesome then told me that he must leave. He walked out of the coffee shop we had wandered into just as a long black limousine, made from a stretched hummer combined with treads from a military tank and what looked to be a genuine shark fin attached to the roof, pulled up to the curb. I rushed outside, one last question lodged in my mind.
"What's the national anthem?" I asked.
The man from Awesome said nothing. He merely grinned as he ducked into the strange vehicle. But as the limo pulled away, music began to blast from inside of it.
"Damn It Feels Good to be a Gangsta," by the Geto Boys.
"Wikipedia just wasn't awesome enough," he said.
The man from Awesome was fascinating, although he of course preferred to be called awesome. He was tall and thin, dressed in a dark charcoal suit with a white shirt and light blue tie. His hair was always parted to his left, although a stray hair would stand up from time to time. He described his home by only its name. When asked about the immigration policy, he replied that there was none. "You must be born awesome," he calmly explained.
As we walked together, our interview continued. He told me that the national flag was black. Just black. No patterns, no images, no stripes or stars or symbols of any kind. "When we get on the battlefield, and you see that black flag coming towards you," he said wistfully, "Shit goes bananas." He then described Awesome's unique brand of armed forces, also described as awesome. When asked for the national pastime, his reply was an obscene sexual remark regarding my mother. Then he asked if I would like to see the national bird and made a rude gesture with his right hand.
Observing his briefcase, I asked if he was part of Awesome's national government. "We have no government," he replied. "Everyone's just awesome." I was intrigued, having devoted years of study to my own country's form of democracy and legal structure. I asked how decisions were made, if there was a council or a senate. He shook his head. "Can't have a Senate, everyone's too awesome," he said. "If we had a Senate, it would just be a hundred awesome people constantly high-fiving. That would make your arm fall off and that would not be awesome."
Awesome's national currency was, of course, the awesome. The man from Awesome pointed at his bottle of soda and proclaimed that in his country, the bottle would cost but one awesome. When asked if this was roughly equivalent to the American dollar, he waved his hand and said that he could not think in dollars, but only in awesome. This confused me at first but as it turns out, the plural of awesome is also awesome. I struggled to understand how a people could survive on such a currency, but the man from Awesome assuaged my fears. "Everyone gets a stipend of awesome," he said. "We're all too awesome to work." He also stated that the chief export of Awesome was, of course, awesome. I could only assume that the nation had been fortunate enough to be located just above a vast, almost unlimited supply of the precious resource.
The man from Awesome then told me that he must leave. He walked out of the coffee shop we had wandered into just as a long black limousine, made from a stretched hummer combined with treads from a military tank and what looked to be a genuine shark fin attached to the roof, pulled up to the curb. I rushed outside, one last question lodged in my mind.
"What's the national anthem?" I asked.
The man from Awesome said nothing. He merely grinned as he ducked into the strange vehicle. But as the limo pulled away, music began to blast from inside of it.
"Damn It Feels Good to be a Gangsta," by the Geto Boys.
Monday, September 13, 2010
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
First They Came...
They came first for the Communists,
and I didn't speak up because I wasn't a Communist.
Then they came for the trade unionists,
and I didn't speak up because I wasn't a trade unionist.
Then they came for the Jews,
and I didn't speak up because I wasn't a Jew.
Then they came for me
and by that time no one was left to speak up.
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