So I have a question

Is this what the Count watches in lieu of pornography?

Wackness review is on it's way as well as the aforementioned Wall-E article.

On a highway to...you know

There’s been many superhero films this summer; some may boast spectacular performances, some may drip with prestige and take the genre down new avenues of legitimacy, but when all is tallied up I doubt any of them will be able to compete with the sense of wonder and creativity on display in Hellboy II: The Golden Army. Having broken from the restrictions of the now seemingly obligatory origin tropes of the first film, writer/director Guillermo Del Toro sets about fleshing out the world of Hellboy, giving it a compelling mythology with some surprisingly heady thematic material. This time out Hellboy and his team of monsters as monster hunters at the BPRD must face an invasion of the human world by fairy creatures (Elves, trolls and the like) who are angry with the humans for forgetting about them and encroaching on what was supposed to be THEIR territory. Apparently Joni Mitchell was right, we paved paradise and put up a parking lot. There is an argument going on here for imagination, for myths and monsters. While our heroes ultimately choose to save humanity from the magical WMD that is the Golden army it is exceedingly clear that Del Toto wants his audience to sympathize with creatures, not humans.
There is a moment in the film where youu’re watching the giant human/demon hybrid Hellboy (Ron Perlman), the amphibious looking Abe Sapien (Doug Jones) and a walking German ball of gas in a diving suit, Johann Krauss (voiced by Stewie Grffin himself Seth McFarlane) navigate their way through the creature filled Troll Market and you realize there is nothing even remotely human looking on-screen. Yet at the same time these creatures aren’t menacing each other, they’re going about their business no different than we might act. It is this dissonance in imbuing the inhuman with deep character and, for lack of a better term, humanity that makes the film the lush, imaginative and wholly immersive adventure experience. After years of dividing his time between enjoyable studio genre outings and smaller, more personal (but no less fantastical) Spanish language fantasies, Del Toro and his collaborators have found a happy medium. To go from visually expressive, original sequences like the aforementioned Troll market or a moving battle between Hellboy and a hulking forest elemental that bleeds moss and other plants to sweet, intimate character moments where the two leads drunkenly commiserate about their women troubles over a Barry Manilow tune. Hellboy continuously reveals a multitude of delights for the eye.
This is not to say that the film is flawless. With so many characters to juggle, some, like Selma Blair’s pyro-kinetic cutie Liz Sherman and Jeffrey Tambor’s officious blow-hard Agent Manning are relegated to the sidelines, mostly standing around while the other boys (errr monsters) do the heavy lifting. Del Toro’s dialogue will never be mistaken for Quentin Tarantino or David Mamet either, he rights truthfully but you won’t walk away quoting any particular line. The story itself, while unfolding perfectly over the course of the film seems at first glance unwieldy and explaining it to the unconverted will be a uphill battle for fans. However these are minor quibbles that seem insignificant compared to the amazing visual craft on display here from the extraordinary blend of character make-up and practical effects with CG to the deeply felt character work coupled with a delightfully snarky sense of humor.

Who knows/Could Be

That's right gang, something is coming. With my program winding down (giving me time to work on my NEXT life project) and a few weeks before the big exciting job starts I'll have a few precious moments to give you a direct line into the 24 frames per second part of my brain. Coming up on the blog a take on Wall-E I don't think ANYONE on the interwebs have touched on, a review of Hellboy 2 (can't wait), a hopefully funny article about my Mom watching the Wire and of course a ton about a certain Bat-person. Remember all articles subject to change but I'm going to try to stick to this schedule. Keep me honest people.

I just want the blog to stay true to form. You hear that Pat, "TRUE TO FORM! TRUE TO FORM!"

PS-Can somebody e-mail this to Pat? In fact can EVERYONE who knows him and reads this e-mail it to Pat.


Also thank you, thank you, thank you everyone who has stayed with the blog and checks in daily and keeping it alive. I am extremely grateful.

The word loses all meaning

In addition to the silliness that was Wanted, last night's screening filled me with severe irritation because of the previews. First off was the increasingly impressive looking Eagle Eye. I'll grant that DJ Carusso's re-working of North by Northwest the way he re-worked Rear Window into Disturbia looks fun, but it's what followed that raised the bile in my throat.

The Mummy Three Hollywood? Really? Hasn't this teat been suckled of its last ounce of rancid mummy-flavored breast milk? In a summer with already one staggeringly lackluster mid-century burly adventure-man film I have to ask who is the audience for this? Anyone young enough to actually want to see this probably hasn't seen the first two. And if you've seen the first two Mummy movies well you've certainly learned your lesson by now. I don't care how many creatures they cram into the preview (but oh how that Yeti does make for some tempting material, resist nerd, RESIST) the Sickness isn't buying it. I do eagerly anticipate seeing this film on a plane. It look PERFECT for a plane. I also love the fact that the O'Connel's son has somehow aged about fifteen years while Brendan Fraser's Rick looks EXACTLY the same. I also love the fact that they try to hide the fact that Rachel "An Oscar means I don't have to do this crap anymore" Weisz has been replaced by Maria "Did it on the stairs" Bello. Also the word "mummy" is used more times in this preview than it appeared in the last two movies combined. Check out Rob Cohen's latest here.

For all its faults at least the Mummy movies look like everyone is having (or trying to have) silly fun. The same cannot be said for the drab and dour palette and attitude of the truly awful looking Death Race, a remake of Paul Bartel and Roger Corman's Death Race 2000. This movie is especially awful in that it has completely missed the point of the original. In the original cult classic, the premise was that participants raced on an open track that dominated the American landscape causing mayhem and engaging in all sorts of vehicular manslaughter for points. The America of this film is so enraptured of this bloodsport that it's an honor to be struck by one of the cars. Hell, they wheel out old people out of their homes and line them all up like dominoes. It's bright, shiny, Swiftian satire. So our dear executives have decided that THAT should go right out the window. Now the race is run by a sinister looking Joan Allen and its only participants are prisoners so that the teeny tiny audience brains need not be hurt by any kind of moral ambiguity. Our hero is Jason Statham, a professional race driver framed for murder. Wouldn't you know it that the same gesture made by the murderer is made by someone at the prison he's shipped to? Oh no, a set-up! Now Statham must race for his life in the Death Race. See the whole movie in trailer form (see now I don't have to see it at all doubly).

As in "Not what I..."

Russian director Timur Bembakmatov's adaptation of Mark Millar and J.G. Jones comic series Wanted is relatively high on spectacle and low on just about everything else you'd want in a movie. In sanitizing this story (which begs the question why put a movie about a ruthless asshole hitman who self-actualizes through ultra-violence into production in the first place if you're going TO sanitize it?!?!?) the screenwriters have completely missed the point of Wanted. I won't hail the original comic series a masterpiece of graphic fiction, but it told the somewhat edgy story of a world taken over by super villains and the son of one of the deadliest of them all self-actualizing through wanton acts of amorality. It was a scathing attempt by Millar to satirize and underline the dangers of adolescent power fantasies run amok. The film version of Wanted does away with the implication of super-heroes and villains and shunts aside the boisterous and gamey sub-text leaving audiences with a visually arresting but otherwise very bland text. All that's left is a sort of Fight Club/Matrix hybrid that is entirely disposable.
For example in the comic version, once young Wesley Gibson learns the truth of his legacy he actualizes into a murderous, rape-happy, racist little shit who indiscriminately kills with no thought of collateral damage. The world has become one giant video-game. The movie softens Wesley (James McAvoy) into an unfailingly polite young pushover who even after many training montages still never feels genuinely threatening or menacing. He also still wants to do right in the end...he just isn't going to put up with the man's bullshit anymore, maaaaan. Ugh. Spare me. Wesley is pulled from a grim desk job, anti-stress medication dependency and a depressing social life into a new world of outrageous ultra-violence by the Fox (Angelina Jolie). Now in the comic the Fox is thusly named because she's an analogue of Catwoman, but in the film no reason is given, though looking at Miss Jolie it's clear there is no need to ask. I will grant that Jolie's entrance into the film is laugh out loud perfect. Wesley is standing in line at a pharmacy awaiting his medication, the camera cuts away for a moment and then BAM Jolie is standing right next to our "hero." It's perfectly emblematic for the star, she's so gorgeous, so exotic, so damn fascinating that for her to simply appear without any sort of pomp and circumstance is more than enough. For a few fun minutes the film becomes all about Miss Jolie as she saves Wesley from a hit-man bent on killing him. The sequences is fun in it's audacity but after this the film loses its oomph.
Fox brings Wesley to a group of hit-men, led by Morgan Freeman's Sloan, who serve the loom of fate. Apparently this ancient loom spits out a secret code that instructs which key people should be killed. "Kill one, save a thousand" reasons Fox. This is pretty damn specious and ridiculous logic. Now as a comic fan I've swallowed all sorts of ridiculous conceits; a French militant gorilla being in love with a brain in a jar, an ape-boy riding a giant red dinosaur and a heroin addict shaman of the Earth to name a few of the sillier ones. But I think any of these devices would fit an action film better than a fucking LOOM OF FATE! What's next, the sewing machine of righteousness? The cotton gin of doom? I should take a moment to point out the loom is an invention of the screenwriters (who each had a hand in 2 Fast 2 Furious, for what it's worth). What follows is a lot of formless action as Wesley trains, ditches his old beaten up persona and becomes the prick he's always wanted to be. All sorts of training montages and hit-jobs follow until Wesley learns there is an entirely different layer behind Sloan and Fox's story about him. For a while though the movie is rough and formless. It at least stays visually arresting (credit Bembakmatov, he of the Nightwatch trilogy-someone please get this guy some decent writers) but Wanted really did have the chance to be a the sort of super-hero satire that I am hearing Hancock is not. If you like innovative action sequences (many of which feature cars crashing into things-at the behest of a loom) you'll get your money's worth in Wanted, otherwise stay away.

One more thing, I was incredibly disappointed in both the audience and theater management as not one or two but by my count at least five children under the age of four were sitting in on this film. Now while I've griped that this film is sanitized it is till loaded with hard R content. Not a single scene goes by without bloody violence, swearing or sex. For shame on the grossly irresponsible parents and shame on the AMC at the third street promenade for letting them in.

It Only Takes a Moment/For Your Eyes to Meet and Then

Andrew Stanton's Wall-E is, like the bulk of its Pixar brethren (Cars aside) an exquisite, gorgeous, thoughtful piece of art that helps elevate its genre and continues to demonstrate that its studio is one of the most progressive in the entire entertainment industry. Yet there is a part of the film that gnaws on me and halts me from declaring Wall-E an absolute perfect film or the best that Pixar has yet to offer audiences, but oh it gets so close.
I will say this for the film, director Stanton and his team of writers, animators and sound designers have created perhaps their most emotionally resonant film yet. That they manage this with two central characters that speak a mere four words between them is nothing short of miraculous. When I first heard of Wall-E my mind immediately jumped to the perplexing and inaccessible world of Cars, wherein the anthropomorphized machines kept me at a distance. Then once I was introduced to the titular Waste Allocation Load Lifter (Earth Class) via the trailer I tossed all my fears out the window for good. Utilizing a tremendous economy of visual and body language that has its roots in the silent films of Chaplin, Keaton and Tati, Stanton has created a pair of robots (the boxy Wall-E and the sleek EVE) who manage to convey the entire breadth of human experience, moreso than the actual humans that appear in the film. I'm most struck by Wall-E's eyes and hands. In the preview the filmmakers cannily provided us with Wall-E gazing up into the night sky, the infinite wonder of the cosmos reflected in his Jonny-5 like binocular eyes. This immediately communicated that this being had, for lack of a better term, a soul.

The premise is a decidedly unconventional one for a family film. On the garbage strewn remains of Earth (gorgeously lit, colored and shot under the supervising advisement of legendary DP Roger Deakins) a lone robot works tirelessly at his task; crumpling up all that garbage and processing it into cubes. Wall-E works virtually alone. Humanity has abandoned the planet after the take-over of a Wal-Mart analogue called Buy'n'Large (CEO'ed by a live-action Fred Willard) has covered the planet and now humanity has evolved into over-sized babies completely dependent on automatons, staying the course on a space-ship that's five year mission has gone on for seven hundred years. His only company is a not at all cute looking roach type thing. Day after day Wall-E works beside holoscreens that fill the viewer in on the fate of humanity (living in automated luxury among the stars aboard the pleasure yacht the Axiom) and the remains of all the other broken down Wall-Es. Wall-E doesnt understand the futility of his task but he does know he's lonely, heartbreakingly so. Every day he comes home to his "apartment" deposits any particularly interesting junk (like all good nerds he's something of a collector) and pops in an old VHS copy of Hello Dolly. He watches a live action Michale Crawford sing "Put on Your Sunday Clothes" and "It Only Takes a Moment." He's completely captivated by the figures dancing and singing and attempts to bust some moves himself. He also sees humans holding each others hands and then looks at his own, he sighs mournfully. Your heart breaks and I won't lie to you readers it was here that I started bawling, not just crying a few little squirty tears but just big buckets of emotion for this poor thing. If you can pair a strong emotional idea with a musical theater song you've got the Sickness in the bag.
Wall-E isn't bound for loneliness much longer when quite out of nowhere he meets the sleek and most certainly Apple approved EVE. EVE has been deposited on Earth in search of vegetabble matter. She sophisticated, she's as high tech as it gets and in Wall-E's eyes she is gorgeous. I can't speak to the realism of a robot falling in love but if there is such thing I can't imagine it looking different than this. She also packs some serious firepower so Wall-E has to approach with care. Wall-E eventually gets her back to his place and clearly having observed how I do my romancing shows EVE his favorite movie and even tries to hold her hand. It doesn't go well. Wall-E does think he's scored big time when he shows EVE the tiny sapling he found in one of his garbage runs. EVE however puts the sapling in her chassis and shuts down, sending a retrieval signal to the Axiom. Wall-E tries desperately to revive her but it's no good. The montage of Wall-E taking care of EVE, trying to entertain her, just even being with her is both hilarious and oddly melancholy. The inert EVE makes her way back to the Axiom and Wall-E boldly follows.
It is here the film goes from being a masterpiece to merely great. The humans aboard the axiom are lazy corporate blobs. They've all but lost any ability to be self-sufficient and most of their fundamental concepts of human interaction. It is the arrival of Wall-E, in desperate pursuit of EVE that starts a sort of social revolution. There are forces on teh ship that don't want EVE to deliver that plant and much chasing (some good, some bad) ensue. What unquestionably works about it is that the filmmakers at this point have you so invested in EVE and Wall-E that you flinch at the slightest thought of anything happening to them. It's what happens along the way that only sort of works. The idea of a robot teaching humanity is a good one, but in making the humans inhuman the filmmakers may have made them a bit too childish. Powerful emotional moments get punctuated and deflated with moments of slapstick. A plea for ecological awareness, a wariness against superstores and a request for a return to more genuine human interaction are all noble and worthwhile ambitious for family entertainment but they dilute the love story by being expressed with a degree of didacticism that had heretofore been unseen in the film. Don't get me wrong, the slapstick works exceedingly well with the robots, it's just that I found it difficult to sympathize with humanity. It was also jarring to go from seeing live-action humans to their more portly animated counter-parts. There is also the lingering dissonance about the sheer volume of Wall-E merchandise being produced and then sold in our own Buy'N'Larges available now.

At the end of the day though the core of Wall-E remains pure, emotionally compelling material. Pixar maintains its sterling reputation and as always makes me wonder how they will be able to build on their latest success.

Oh I've completely forgotten the colossal contribution of the voice of R2-D2 himself, Ben Burtt, who created the sound design for Wall-E. Gooooooood move.

Site Report

For a long time I've attempted to maintain a post a day (or at least an average of a post a day) but since my fellowship program is starting officially tomorrow I really want to focus the bulk of my time and concentration there.

I will still be seeing movies, reviewing movies, bitching about movies, advocating on behalf of movies and my favorite just plain old referencing movies right here on the blog. I just can't guarantee every day. Who knows I've got some long bus rides in my future maybe if I'm done with my other work I'll start writing ON the bus. Just think, I can ask the transients what they think about Jim Jarmusch and Sam Fuller. So don't cry cause this is hardly goodbye. I'm not Cary and totally WANTONLY abandoning my blog like a little bitch.

Missed it by THAT much

The above line perfectly encapsulates Peter Segal's recent modernizing of the Mel Brooks and Buck Henry collaboration Get Smart. I liked Get Smart but I wanted to love it. The film pitches itself too broad, too mainstream. It does physical comedy well, even very well at times, but the editing often feels disjointed. The film zings in its character humor but I would've enjoyed more satire on the interplay of intelligence agencies rather than vomit or nut-shot jokes. Also missing is the rat-tat-tat of Borscht Belt style humor that only picks up every once in a while like when Steve Carrell's Maxwell Smart gives the alias of Nudnik Shpilkes.

Mind you for my qualms about the over-reliance on physical comedy are undone when that physical stuff focuses solely on Carrell. Carrell is a deft physical comedian, he manages to spin laughs out of something as simple as slowly moving his eyes while at a urinal. Carrell though is hardly the films only asset. The film utilizes it's ensemble very well (way better than Indiana Jones and the Old People Standing Around) everyone gets a chance to shine which is fitting given that one of the themes that seems to be running through the film is that every person has value. Alan Arkin will no doubt make Peter and Frank stand up and cheer when he sails a cross a boardroom to beat up the petulant vice-president. He also has a line at the end that is absolutely killer. Anne Hathaway gives just enough fun, slink and eventually warms into something resembling the incarnation of Barbra Feldon's Agent 99. Dwayne Johnson is fun as super Agent 23, though I wish given the twist about his character he had even more to do. In addition to these core four there is a never-ending parade of comic ringers who all get some good moments. Ken Davitian redeems himself for Meet the Spartans as the sidekick of the slick Sigfried. As for my favorite cameo? It's a two way tie between the shocking appearance of Agent 13 (played by a certain Wes Anderson and Jim Jarmusch regular) who is pretty sad about being stuck in a tree and then Patrick Warburton RULING COMPLETELY in an all too-brief appearance as a Brock Sampson-esque Hymie the Robot.
If there is one scene that perfectly encapsulates what works about the film it is a scene at about the film's midpoint that features Hathaway and Carrell competing on the dance-floor. She's with a Russian arms dealer and he is with a significantly larger female dance partner (Lindsay Hollister, who was actually at my screening at the Sherman Oaks Arc Light, I KNOW). A lesser film would make Max's partner weight the object of the joke. Instead it becomes a matter of which partnership can dance more impressively and we're on Hollister and Carrell's side. It's sweet and underlines an ongoing theme of rooting for the under-dog that the film has a penchant for.
In the end Get Smart is a good natured, solidly funny but not a classic. It rather smartly plays it's action straight so when Carrell does gun down a baddy or Alan Arkin heroically pilots a bi-plane, you can't help but chuckle. If the characters were constantly winking at the audience it would get pretty tedious pretty fast. Get Smart works more than it doesn't and that is enough for me.

The Link Guru

Here are some distractions from even thinking about watching Mike Myers rape the corpse of Peter Sellers (I cannot WAIT until that comes up as a google search term for the blog).

Tribute:
AICN has contacted some of Stan Winston's friends and family for an incredibly moving tribute (and has subsequently reminded me why I like the site in the first place). Come read stories from the like of James Cameron, Frank Darabont, Greg Nicotero and Robert Kurtzman (the K and the N in KNB), Rick Baker, Joe Dante, Jon Favreau and Monster Squad director Fred Dekker.
Joblo also put together a nice video montage for the late great Mr. Winston.


Hype:
Speaking of AICN Moriarty got a hold of writer Brian K Vaughn's (Y the Last Man, Pride of Baghdad, Lost) script of Roundtable and the movie sounds AMAZINGLY great. A Brian K Vaughn movie that draws comparisons to Ghostbusters and Back to the Future and written with Simon Pegg and Ricky Gervais in mind?!?!?!!?!!? I'll buy twenty tickets right now!

Funny:
So with rumors of a possible Anchorman sequel swirling about some VERY disturbed, but funny fans have tale the liberty of creating an entire blog of what basically amounts to Anchorman slash fic. ANCHORMAN SLASH FIC!

List:
Wired magazine has a quick run down of great movie metamorphoses.

Etan Recommended:
In conjunction with the upcoming release of the amazing look David Fincher directed, original cast of the fountain starring, Curious Case of Benjamin Button someone is letting you read F. Scott Fitgerald's original novel in chapter installments for the cost of FREE! Bone up your Button and be one of those pretentious know-it-alls who read the book before seeing the movie here.

My friend Ian has spent years writing and directing (and I think even financing) his very original film Invisible Cities. The trailer just went up today and I must admit it looks pretty awesome. Ian has come a long way from hiding dead guys under tables while pretending to be a mother with the world's largest handlebar mustache. Check it out below. I can say I knew him when and of COURSE he'll grant the Sickness Cinema his first exclusive interview.

Here's looking at you Cyd

The late Cyd Charisse will not go down as one of the great actresses of her time, but when it came to dancing, well there was simply no one who could match her in the 1950's in sheer intensity, grace and raw feminine sensuality. Still, talking about dancing (or music) is like singing about architecture (or whatever the expression is).

Better you should see for yourself. The essential Charisse can be seen in the following
Singin' in the Rain:

The Band-Wagon:


Brigadoon:

See them, know them, love them.