I need to talk about Star Trek Into Darkness a while and there will be spoilers. So consider this your warning. You feeling good and warned? I hope so. Because…
Well before spoilers let’s discuss the title. Could they not afford a colon? Sheesh. Oh, but right, spoilers ahoy!
This movie could have been:
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Then there was this:
Why don’t the Godzilla movies ever focus on his home life? His art? His charity work with underprivileged children?
— Paul Tobin (@PaulTobin) May 14, 2013
To which I answer: Haven’t you seen Godzilla vs. Monster Zero (also known as Invasion of Astro-Monster)? Because that’s what it is – in allegory. Let me explain.
In the movie, humans go to Planet X where they hear all sorts of stuff but mostly they see Ghidorah attack. The people of planet X want the humans to grab them some Godzilla and Rodan to help with their Ghidorah problem.
Except it turns out the people of Planet X can control the beasts and then threaten Earth and then stuff goes nutty and eventually Godzilla and Rodan fight Ghidorah and it looks like Ghidorah wins and … hey this film doesn’t seem to make any sense. And it might not – on the surface. But when you dig deeper you can see a few things of import:
Ghidorah was off having a night out. But the bartender called some guys and told them to find Ghidorah’s family and get them to pick his drunk ass up. So these other guys go and think this is fine and smart. They call up Godzilla and Rodan, Ghidorah’s cousins, and they come out in their pick-up, to wrangle their cousin back home one more time.
Really though, the bartender didn’t like Ghidorah either. No, the owners of the bar thought they would get all these dudes drunk, round them all up, and then they could call the police and be done with them in one fell swoop.
This was because they were, let’s face it, really shitty tippers.
Anyway, Godzilla really didn’t come out to party. He was up late the night before and so he wanted Rodan to deal with it so they could just go home already. You can see this in the way the tail moves. But, still, he gets talked into a drink as well. The family gets into a fight, of course, about why they’re there and whose fault it all is and Godzilla ends up doing a dance that he was going to teach to the kids he teaches, a dance of victory. It was supposed to be celebration but in his screams you can hear how it is now frustration and disappointment in his own behavior that is released through dance.
Eventually the plan of the bartenders is realized by the monsters. Which prompts another family spat. No one wants to know they are so disliked because of their own behavior. And so they fight again, but then the dust settles you realize they’ve come to terms and will turn over a new leaf. Ghidorah is in the bar, staying. Victorious. Godzilla and Rodan have gone home, accepting their cousin’s life choices and all of them grown to understand tipping a bartender is crucial to good service.
Godzilla returned in his next film – Godzilla vs. the Sea Monster. It takes place on a tropical island and furthers the story by delving into what happens when Godzilla tries to take a vacation, but the art and dance students he teaches need him, how you can not escape responsibility but must work with it to lead a successful life. But that’s a different movie entirely.
Gaändylf the Rocking came down and knocked on the door. Bustling noises could be heard inside and Gaändylf waited, if impatiently. His fingers twisted and flexed, a kickass air guitar solo formed, with his wizardly ways of rock.
The door opened, at last, for keeping a Wizard of Rock waiting could be dangerous indeed. Bilbö looked up at his visitor, his old friend who sported a long flowing gray beard, forked down the middle, and eyebrows that came out over the brim of his hat.
“Bilbö,” Gaändylf said, “it is good you are home. I have in mind an adventure for you.”
“An adventure?” Bilbö exclaimed, patting down all of his pockets, “I haven’t even had Headbanger’s Ball lunch yet!”
“Never mind that,” Gaändylf harrumphed impatiently, “let me in so that I can tell you of my idea.”
“Very well,” Bilbö said, throwing the horns and bowing, “enter and well met.”
“Well met, and may your neck always bang,” Gaändylf replied as he stooped low to enter the small hobbit’s hole.
Bilbö ran around his house, gathering up cheese, crackers, tea and bitch’s brew – the makings of a fine Headbanger’s Ball lunch. Hobbits often had breakfast, Satan’s breakfast, lunch, Headbanger’s Ball lunch, supper and late supper. They enjoyed their food almost as much as they enjoyed their music.
Gaändylf smiled as he waited. He knew well the Hobbit proclivity for meals. He held his mighty bass staff, idly plucking strings, and considered how to tell Bilbö that soon he would be far beyond the front of the stage and deep into the realm of backstage passes and tour bus hell.
But first – cheese, and tea.
I’ve seen a bunch of anger toward “posers” recently and I don’t get it. There are people getting mad because people are pretending to like something only because it is cool to like it, but they don’t really like it or get it. And that’s… bad?
How – that’s my problem – how is it bad?
If you like something you want it to do well, to succeed and thrive. More people spending money on it, talking about it, drawing focus to it bring that all home. They make the thing you love better funded and better accepted. They widen its base and spread it around.
But they don’t really like it, and so that’s bad.
Because the thing you like getting bigger is a horrible idea.
If you like something, if you truly enjoy it and want it to live, you want it to grow bigger. And that means more people looking at it. I don’t care if you somehow feel special because it is this little unknown thing in a closet just for you and your friends. That’s the way this shit dies early, by being kept hidden away. So – choose – do you want it to thrive or want it to fail? And if the answer is thrive then grow up!
Because according to you a “poser” is someone who is faking enjoyment of a thing. What you really mean is: They don’t enjoy it “enough” according to you, Grand Master Of How Much People Like Things.
I mean really. You wouldn’t want someone telling you you are enjoying things “wrong” would you? But you feel free to say it to other people.
“Oh no, this person here says they like Street Fighter but they don’t even know all the character names!”
Uhm. So the fuck what? You can like something and not obsess over it. You can like something and just, you know, like it.
You do not get to decide how much anyone else likes something, anymore than they can judge you for it.
Some people have to know every detail of a thing they like. Some don’t. It’s all fine! Look, me just kinda enjoying a thing you are hardcore into doesn’t weaken your enjoyment! It doesn’t make the thing you love any less of a thing. It just means I like it, but differently. And that is all right. It really is.
Deciding people are posers is elitist bullshit, the kind of stuff that most people outgrow around 7th grade. Get with it. Move along. Grow up. Let people enjoy things however much or little they enjoy them and understand it doesn’t affect your enjoyment of that thing one tiny bit. And then be thankful for the so-called posers – for helping that thing you love stay alive. Thank them! Your petty, twisted, selfish love isn’t enough.
These guys, the ones you think don’t care enough to obsess – they help a ton. Deal with it. And stop telling other people what they can and can’t like and how much they have to like something to be valid. Doing that is why we can’t have nice things. Seriously – you guys are the problem.
So many reviews of the new Batman movie keep pinging their surprise that Anne Hathaway can act by mentioning she’s pretty. Because Christian Bale and Tom Hardy are fucking eyesores. Oh, wait, no, they’re just guys so their ability to act isn’t hurt by “being so gosh durn purdy.” It’s a wee bit sickening. So I wrote up a few reviews that go the other way.
Blade Runner
While watching Blade Runner this evening I was truly hit by the strong, engaging performances of Sean Young and newcomer Daryl Hannah. They worked tightly in the movie’s atmosphere and drove the plot along, each f them showing us surprising depth of character for what could have been a simple SF movie. Harrison Ford’s chiseled jaw and shining eyes brought a sparkle to the proceedings as well, and he managed to also nail his role much better than might have been thought from movie stills. Rutger Hauer’s haunting presence also brought life to the set, with his broad shoulders and easy smirk.
Batman Begins
Katie Holmes’ determined D.A. Rachel Dawes sets a lot of emotional moves in place in this new, darker, Batman flick. Reflecting and encompassing the role of Batman, while still being a “normal” character in this world, Holmes crafts a role that rides the line between super-hero and normal person being a hero in their daily choices. Christian Bales eyes shown under the Bat-mask, which, let’s be honest, covered too much of his face for much of the film. Luckily, the work-out scenes were shirt free. Also, he managed to be a fine Batman, despite being so in shape we wonder when he had time to act.
Fun fact that should make you wince – It’s real hard to think of films with female roles and male roles you can play this game with without totally cheating, and while I can think of more – two should do to show what I’m saying.
Next time you want to ask me why I write a lot of female leads in my stories? You know why. We all know why. And we should all be sad it’s noticeable at all that it happens.
Please note: This was originally supposed to the be the end of the show I just did. So it’s a bit way long when written out and may be a bit rambly. I’ve edited it down some and tried to make sure it seems focused but you’ve been warned…
I was talking about Saved by the Bell the other day. And well, thinking about it really brings something home for me. First of all, we really need to stop making live-action TV shows with minors, because there has never been a cast, I think, on earth, that was not horribly scarred by this. Neil Patrick Harris survived. We can maybe call Danny Bonaduce a survivor NOW, but that’s about as far as you get.
Diff’rent Strokes, of course, were all criminals at one point, or on drugs, or both. And, funny story, Diff’rent Strokes, the two black kids, they’re did all right in the end, mostly. White girl? Dead of an overdose. That’s the reality of Diff’rent Strokes for you right there.
Punky Brewster, I don’t know whatever happened to her. She got tits, that’s the last thing I heard, maybe she was swallowed by them, I don’t know, haven’t heard much about her.
Winnie Cooper went on to get a degree in math. Her and Neil Patrick Harris should little have survivor clone babies together.
But, man, most of these shows, and you look back at Saved By The Bell — you have Dustin Diamond, who, of course, has become Dustin Diamond, which is not a fate I’d wish on most people I meet. Then you have Elizabeth Berkley who thought she’d have a movie career if only she’d stripped hard enough, and was proven wrong by the universe… not that all of us didn’t figure that one out early, but she had to prove it to herself.
So, we really do need to stop putting minors in TV shows because no good comes of it.
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So. Prometheus. Saw it recently and I am still working out my thoughts on it. So this is less a detailed review and more a collection of things in my head that relate to the film. There will be, of course, massive spoilers ahead, so proceed at your own risk.
Hammerpants and I were joking and he said this phrase and then I had to grab an image and… here’s the result:
I’m sick of trailers. I’m sick of reviews. I’m sick of people spelling everything out all over any wide-band channel they can find. It makes movies less and less enjoyable, every year.
I remember when a movie would have a poster or two, and a trailer or two and you would see them, and maybe a friend would go “Hey, hear about that new movie out?” and you would be excited by it and go see it and enjoy it.
When I saw Ghostbusters I knew exactly three things:
* It had a nifty ghost logo.
* It was a comedy.
* It was called Ghostbusters.
I knew literally nothing else. Die Hard, Lethal Weapon, Dirty Dancing – I knew the posters, I knew the names and maybe I knew an actor or two and a genre. That was it.
Now? Come the fuck on! If I watch trailers I’ve seen at least 1/4 if not 1/2 the film. If I read a review it’ll go out of its way to spoil things more often than not. If I dare look at the internet anyone who has seen the film will start spoiling every inch of it within 10 minutes of seeing an early screener. They don’t even give you the chance to see it yourself.
I love trailers, is the thing. They didn’t used to be this bad. Now trailers have trailers and even then there are four trailers and six teasers and they all have to be kind of different so you have to run more and more film and…
Why am I not allowed to enjoy a movie without knowing what the inside of its liver looks like, anymore? What is the motivation? I really don’t get it. Movie companies spend hundreds of millions to advertise the film. But they start a year out. Assholes. That lead time forces them to show so much they might as well be Elizabeth Berkeley.
Let me know a month before the film opens. With one trailer. One or two posters. Simple. Give me enough information to excite me, and hold back enough so I enjoy the moment in time I am watching. Advertising costs would plummet, margins would grow, profits would increase and we would all enjoy movies far more again.
Instead it’s going the other way. I seriously expect trailers to become items you pay for, getting only teasers for free, within the next three years. And then they’ll show you even more.
So by the time the movie comes out the only part of you won’t have seen is the credits. Not the post-credits scene, you’ll know that, too. I mean the actual credits will be the only new footage you get.
I just wanna watch a movie. Without having seen it before I get there to see it. It doesn’t feel like a huge thing to ask.
There’s a webcomic called Punch-Up that I really enjoy. I’m also lucky enough to know the guy who writes it, and so one day I jokingly said “I’m gonna do a puppet show based on this comic.” Except this being me, once I said it I felt I had to do it.
Well, Laszlo and Laura were both around and we decided to make it a group project. I was going to write a script but then we decided to just wing it and have some fun. The resulting effort has, pretty much, nothing at all, in any way, to do with Punch-Up. The only connection is the main character is called Patrick and he gets into fights for money. That’s it. Everything else is what happens when you put the three of us in a situation involving socks on our hands and a camera rolling.
We may need help.
Regardless! I present to you – The Punch-Up Puppet Show:
Eisner and Harvey award winning editor, writer and tired person. Novelist, comic writer, cat owner, NY'er.
