If I Were An Academy Member

Ah, Christmas. Yuletide logs roasting on an open fire, chestnuts singing Silent Night, and carollers hanging from the trees. Doctor Who is on the box, turkeys are drying in the oven, and Miramax are so busily following the template of their former CEs Harvey and Wallbanger Weinstein that we might as well rename the holiday Miramaxmas. Yes, as Canyon acknowledged with glee the other day, this is the time of year when the prestige movies come out and hunt for an Oscar nomination, and despite ourselves we love it.

Of course, Hollywood is so desperate for award recognition at this time of the year that it packs US cinemas with prestige movies starring Meryl Streep and Kate Winslet, but even though that manouevre is just as cynical as the summer season heralding dozens of movies featuring flying men and exploding cars, it's okay, because Christmas is a time for great art to be released into the arms of a culture-starved audience. Summer is where the downtrodden are avenged by robots or ubermensch. Winter is where the downtrodden are given a voice to speak of how hard it is to be a quirky teenager in an age of conformity, or a genocide survivor, or a racist who humiliates Thandie Newton and then saves her life because OMG that's three-dimensional characterisation right there.


This year, though, the disdained Hollywood product that I love has begun to generate more critical appraisal than usual, and it's possible that genre fare, so often dismissed by the critical establishment, might see some award season love. So far this month the Los Angeles Film Critics Association has chosen Wall*E as its film of the year, the AFI has added The Dark Knight and Iron Man to its 2008 list, and Robert Downey Jr. and James Franco have been nominated for "edgy" performances (i.e. uncomfortable for square audiences) in Tropic Thunder and Pineapple Express respectively. Though the Foreign Press Association members decided The Dark Knight isn't worthy of as much respect as the pitiful crowd-pleasing monstrosity Mamma Mia!, the bleak superhero crime saga still might sneak past the anti-genre bias of the Academy (thanks to Skyblade for providing me with some perspective on that).

It's fair to say that the nominations are still going to feature many of the usual and predictable candidates, with nominations going to Stephen Daldry, Sam Mendes, and other respectable and approved directors (I'm not denying they are talented, but they are rather safe choices). For instance, industry favourite Ron Howard is sure to get a Best Director nomination for Frost/Nixon, which I'm in two minds about. His work on that is far less adventurous than that of Chris Nolan, or Andrew Stanton, or Matteo "Gomorra" Girrone (just off the top of my head), but it's the best work of Howard's career, and as the movie is such a convincing success that I would feel churlish for being upset about it. Stanton might get a nod, which would please me despite reservations I've expressed before. Sentimentality aside, Wall*E was more daring than almost everything else released this summer. Mind you, I have to say, of all the likely nominations to come, my favourite will probably be Kate Winslet, English Rose, playing an illiterate Nazi who shags a teenager and ends up as an OAP after spending years in jail. Will Ricky Gervais get a namecheck if she wins?


Other than Best Picture, a category which seems sure to be populated by Frost/Nixon, Milk, The Reader, Slumdog Millionaire, and either Happy-Go-Lucky or The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, I think each category could possibly feature a surprise. With that in mind, our new poll is to see which unlikely but deserved nomination would you most like to see happen. I'll be honest, I don't expect many votes for this one, because I don't expect everyone to have seen all of them, but I remain curious about it nevertheless.

I'm leaving out Best Picture as I don't think there's any room for surprise there (though I really hope Dark Knight crushes the Mike Leigh-helmed affront to the world of cinema), but the rest of the main categories are represented. Only a couple of these possibilities really stand a chance, but I've tried hard not to come up with anything too outlandish (like a Best Director nod for the Wachowski Siblings, or a Best Actor nomination for Jack Black in Kung Fu Panda). So, vote for the one you would like to see happen, and I'll end the poll before the official nomination announcement in Feb. Here are the candidates, and yes, in the poll I removed the word Best. It's fair to say I don't think any of these should be nominated for Worst anything.

Best Director - Martin McDonagh (In Bruges)

Best Actor - Robert Downey Jr. (Iron Man)

Best Supporting Actor - Aaron Eckhart (The Dark Knight)

Best Actress - Frances McDormand (Burn After Reading)

Best Supporting Actress - Emily Mortimer (Redbelt)

Best Photography - Caleb Deschanel (The Spiderwick Chronicles)

Best Art Direction - Peter Francis (Hellboy 2)

Best Costume Design - Eiko Ishioka (The Fall)

Best Visual Effects - Speed Racer

Best Foreign Language Picture - Let The Right One In

Best Original Screenplay - Seth Rogen and Evan Goldberg (Pineapple Express)

Best Adapted Screenplay - David Gordon Green (Snow Angels)

Or you could ignore the poll and just tell me your dream nominations in the comments.

Your Best And Worst Of Summer '08

With my brain fully occupied with compiling my Films of the Year list (I'm taking this as seriously as Jonas Salk took his polio vaccine research), and the various critic circles announcing their awards of the year, it's time to deep six the two polls I've run since the summer, asking our readers for their favourite and least favourite films of the summer. Interestingly, the poll for least favourite got half the votes of the favourite. I guess people either made a point of avoiding watching terrible movies, or we attract a lot of people who feel uncomfortable ragging on the accomplishments of others. A noble sentiment, but I just watched The Mummy 3 - Yetis on Parade, and I feel like my soul has been frozen in carbonite, so IT IS ON. I'll get to that in a moment. First, the results from both polls:

What Was Your Favo(u)rite Summer Movie?

The Dark Night Of Gotham’s Soul - 10 (31%)

Super Kung Fu Fighting Action Panda - 4 (12%)

Iron-Clad Billionaire - 4 (12%)

Wall*E - The Adorable Robot Messiah - 3 (9%)

Man Walk On Wire - 2 (6%)

Hellboy 2: The Surprising Awesomeness - 2 (6%)

Indiana Jones And The Impregnable Fridge of Safety - 2 (6%)

M. Night Shyamalan’s Attack Of The Sentient Plants! - 1 (3%)

Won’t Someone Love Poor Speed Racer? - 1 (3%)

Hulk 2: Not As Good As Iron Man - 1 (3%)

Dope + Guns + James Franco = Hilarity - 1 (3%)

X-Files - Battle Of The Belief Systems - 1 (3%)

The Mummy: Franchise Of The Diminishing Returns - 0 (0%)

Sexuality In An Urban Environment - 0 (0%)

Star Wars: The Kinda Boring Years - 0 (0%)

Narnia II: How Many More Tedious Sequels? - 0 (0%)

Meet A Robotic Version Of Eddie Murphy - 0 (0%)

The Fresh Prince In: Depressed Superhero - 0 (0%)

Wanted: Assassins Fluent In Loom Binary - 0 (0%)

Ben Stiller Bites The Hand That Feeds Him - 0 (0%)

Streep And Brosnan Sing! - 0 (0%)

Jack Bauer vs. Some Evil Mirrors - 0 (0%)

What Was Your Least Favo(u)rite Summer Movie?

Meet A Robotic Version Of Eddie Murphy - 2 (12%)

Sexuality In An Urban Environment - 2 (12%)

The Fresh Prince In: Depressed Superhero - 2 (12%)

M. Night Shyamalan’s Attack Of The Sentient Plants! - 2 (12%)

Won’t Someone Love Poor Speed Racer? - 2 (12%)

The Dark Night Of Gotham’s Soul - 1 (6%)

Hellboy 2: The Surprising Awesomeness - 1 (6%)

Indiana Jones And The Impregnable Fridge of Safety - 1 (6%)

Star Wars: The Kinda Boring Years - 1 (6%)

Streep And Brosnan Sing! - 1 (6%)

The Mummy: Franchise Of The Diminishing Returns - 1 (6%)

Iron-Clad Billionaire - 0 (0%)

Narnia II: How Many More Tedious Sequels? - 0 (0%)

Wall*E - The Adorable Robot Messiah - 0 (0%)

Hulk 2: Not As Good As Iron Man - 0 (0%)

X-Files - Battle Of The Belief Systems - 0 (0%)

Super Kung Fu Fighting Action Panda - 0 (0%)

Dope + Guns + James Franco = Hilarity - 0 (0%)

Wanted: Assassins Fluent In Loom Binary - 0 (0%)

Ben Stiller Bites The Hand That Feeds Him - 0 (0%)

Man Walk On Wire - 0 (0%)

Jack Bauer vs. Some Evil Mirrors - 0 (0%)

It stands to reason that the most watched and most hyped movie of the summer gets big votes in the Love category, and a desultory single vote in the Hate one. I'm actually surprised it didn't get more Hate, as I've seen some real venom directed at it, either in kneejerk attention-seeking Fanboyese or in eloquent prose. Nevertheless, Love is where my own vote went. We saw it again in IMAX recently, and it still holds up, even without the excited audience and New-York-inspired brainmelt of our first viewing. That said, even though I maintain it's my favourite movie of the year so far (things can change in the final couple of weeks), I was sorely tempted to cast my vote for Kung-Fu Panda, which still delights after four viewings. Canyon placed her vote here, as she adores it without measure, even though her antipathy toward the martial arts genre means she resists the lure of my Jet Li collection. Why do you resist? Once Upon A Time In China is the wuxia nuts, my dear wife.


Also great after repeated viewings is Iron Man, which especially pleases me as those damnable fanboys were crowing about imminent FAIL throughout its production, shutting the fuck up as soon as the first trailer came out. Though Favreau's direction on Elf was occasionally shaky (and that final act remains disappointing no matter how often we see it), I still had hope, especially when Robert Downey Jr. got cast. So yeah, I'm smug about it.

That smugness is punctured, however, by my regrettable semi-apathy towards Wall*E, which I wanted to like much more than I did. Though it's obviously an amazing achievement, and kept me thoroughly entertained throughout, I do wish Andrew Stanton would resist the urge to make his films so ingratiatingly cutesy. He has very little impulse control for adding populist touches to his films, which is why Finding Nemo ended on about fifty-three climaxes with each character in the film having doubts about themselves and then overcoming those doubts in order to save the day, and why Wall*E, which heroically features very little dialogue, a bleak anti-consumer message laying the blame for the world's ills on the audience, and nods to sci-fi classics such as 2001 and Silent Running, goes and ruins it all with overlong romantic scenes of robots flying in space, obvious slapstick, and more Christ metaphors than Superman Returns (no mean feat).


It's the sort of film I expected would be my favourite of the year and ended up being much less interesting than I had hoped even though I was constantly impressed and brought to tears from time to time. In other words, a frustrating thing I will almost certainly go back and forth on for years to come (another example: Excalibur was on Sky Movies the other day and watching bits of it made me realise I love it now, after years of hate). Compare that to Ratatouille, which remains a glorious and thought-provoking entertainment that never compromises its message by winking at the audience. Stanton may be Pixar's money machine, but Bird remains their greatest artist (unless Up is as good as I hope it will be and Pete Docter gives him a run for his money).

Next up is the unimpeachable Man On Wire, one of the best documentaries I've seen in a long time, and one that made me burst out crying with zero warning. I'm a sucker for emotional manipulation in films, I will admit, but Man On Wire does nothing to tug the heartstrings, making the emotional impact of the final third even more profound. Kudos to James Marsh for making the most cinematic documentary I can think of, other than Wisconsin Death Trip which, I only found out afterwards, Marsh also made.


What a hero. His only fictional feature, The King, is on our Sky+ box, and once I've finished watching the various copies of this year's movies I have littering the house, I'll check it out, and in the meantime, I heartily recommend this film to all readers (as it's a Storyville documentary, there's a good chance it will be on BBC Four or BBC2 soon).

Hellboy II gets the same amount of love as Indiana Jones IV, which is good news for Mike Mignola and Guillermo Del Toro, and bad news for Steven Spielberg and George Lucas. I know which one I preferred, and it was a big surprise. Despite the continuing debate about whether it's okay to like Spielberg or not (of course it is. God!), and even though this film was good for the first hour and boring for the last, it was not a debacle, certainly when compared to other summer action movies made by hacks with no understanding of how to craft a scene or frame a shot (::cough::Rob Cohen::cough::). That said, it contained no sense of wonder, which Hellboy II did. This is a big deal for me as I usually resist Del Toro's movies a little, thinking them pretty but lifeless. This time it was Spielberg's film that left me unmoved, while Del Toro's film made me giddy with joy.


Funny how at this point in the poll, the movies getting one or two Love votes also get one or two Hates as well. Hellboy, Indy, The Happening, and Speed Racer split the audiences they got (big for Indy, relatively small for everything else). I've already dissed The Happening (twice, in fact) and praised Speed Racer, so I won't go into it again, other than to say I'm so happy someone else liked the Wachowski Siblings' crazed experimental race movie, which holds up to rewatching as well as Iron Man and Kung-Fu Panda. And I still cry at the end. Oh Matthew Fox, you'll be getting a few mentions in my end of year list, both pro (Speed Racer) and affectionate con (the demented Rashomon-meets-Bourne histrionics-fest Vantage Point).

Solitary votes for The Incredible Hulk (which I liked) and Pineapple Express (which I loved, and enjoyed even more second time around), and then a single vote for X-Files: I Want A Cruller With That Venti Mocha, from regular Shades of Caruso reader and commenter Johnilf. Though I wouldn't say I thought the film was actually good, it wasn't deserving of the critical drubbing it got. The argument that it was a long TV episode shown on the big screen was pretty accurate (though would the TV version feature performances from international megastars Amanda Peet and Xzibit? I don't think so!), but beyond its limitations as a film, it was also a powerful trip down memory lane for a lot of fans, and while watching it I found it hard to resist those nostalgic feelings. Plus, Billy Connolly was terrific as the psychic pedophile priest or whatever he was. OMG! It really is just like an average episode of the show, because I've completely forgotten the plot a few months after seeing it!

Nothing else gets a good vote, but there were some other bad ones. Two people saw Meet Dave, amazingly, and they weren't happy. I'll avoid and hold onto the memories of Billy Ray Valentine, thank you very much. Sex and the City: The Movie Experience gets two votes, one from Canyon, who saw it solo (I was asleep, is my defence), and was utterly dismayed by it while compelled to stay in her seat as the ridiculous clothes-wearing montages unfurled. Hancock gets two votes also, and while I was disappointed by it, I'll still be checking out the sequel. Seriously. The first one's problems were borne of the bass-ackwards exposition, and so a sequel exploring this mythology will maybe make the whole enterprise worthwhile.

Star Wars: The Low-Budget Clone Wars (which I was almost fond of until seeing the dreary TV series it was wrenched from) and Mamma Monstrosity! both get a vote each, but the final vote cast, yesterday afternoon, was for The Mummy 3: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor, which made me absolutely livid, so much so that I think I'm going to have to rant about it some other time, as it's wrapped up in some things Canyon and I have been chatting about during recent weeks. After that debacle, no votes for or against Tropic Thunder (a crushing disappointment), Wanted (ditto), Narnia II, or Mirrors, either due to the small sample of votes we got, or just because no one saw them or cared about them. In the case of Narnia I can understand that. I don't think I've ever been less interested in seeing a movie in my life, and not just because of the obnoxious religious propaganda. I'd rather see Sex and the City than this. I know!


Okay, another poll coming up, this time based around the Oscars (because if it's not lists, I'll obsess about award nominations). Once I've figured out the candidates, I'll stick that up.

How We Waited Out The Election

Only now, as the smoke clears and the euphoria dies down, do I realise how much the wait for November the fourth had turned my mind into a stagnant pond, a Moebius strip of re-thought thoughts, cognition turned into a chore thanks to the insane worry over something I literally had no control over (at least Canyon could vote, an act that made her justifiably happy). Two days later, and look at me! I'm all florid and shit, like what I was previous, like.

During that interminable wait, we tried to keep ourselves occupied and not just keep reading the same four websites (though we enjoyed it all) and getting even more obsessed than usual with The Daily Show and The Colbert Report. Our efforts bore some pleasant fruit (the cherries and strawberries of the week) and some disappointing fruit too (mangoes, sharon fruit and unripe bananas, metaphorically speaking).

Burn After Reading

I had high hopes for this after the excellence of No Country For Old Men had erased disappointed memories of the previous four Coen Brothers movies (yes, I'm not crazy about O Brother, Where Art Thou? or The Man Who Wasn't There), but it was frustratingly slight. Being more of a fan of their hyper-weird comedies than their dramas, with The Big Lebowski at the top of my faves list and Raising Arizona close on its tail, I was hoping this would be similarly unhinged and frenetic, but instead it was like Fargo with more jokes, which is a problem considering I don't really like Fargo that much. At least, not as much as many seem to.


Of course, mid-level Coen Brothers movies still have a lot to recommend. Almost all of the performances were great (though weirdly Malkovich did my head in with. His. Stilted. Fucking. Line. Readings. And. Laboured. Fucking. Profanity.), with special kudos to the ever-wonderful Frances McDormand and Richard Jenkins (who broke my heart). That said, why did they bother casting Tilda "Goddess" Swinton for a part that had about twelve lines? Don't get me wrong, I'm more than happy to see her on screen in any capacity, but she seemed ill-served. Here's hoping she becomes a Coen repertory player and turns up again, except with something to do other than be annoyed with the men in her life.


Even with that cast, the film never seemed to come alive, though the central point, that of lampooning the arrogance and solipsism of a bunch of self-regarding twerps who think their pitiful lives have some greater meaning, when in fact all they are little more than a bunch of horny morons, was beautifully done, perhaps even more so than the previous times they have tried to make that point (No Country, Fargo, The Big Lebowski, etc.). I've had more fun thinking about the film than I did watching it. That said, Brad Pitt is a better comedic actor than I thought possible.


I'm grateful to the Coens for proving that.

Quantum of Solace

Casino Royale is possibly my favourite Bond movie since On Her Majesty's Secret Service, leapfrogging over The Living Daylights, The Spy Who Loved Me and Goldeneye, but poverty has delayed us going to see the latest movie. Instead I've been rewatching this over and over again.



We might still see it this week, once I've sold a kidney, following the wonderful news that Vue Cinemas have instituted over-18's only performances for people who don't want to put up with hordes of little shits treating cinemas like the local bus depot. A black man is elected President of the United States and a cinema chain (in our home town, no less) finally realises moviegoers have been staying away because of the behaviour of a bunch of oiks, all in the same week? This truly is the golden age of civilisation. Speaking of which...

Civilisation Revolution


If anything stops me blogging, it will be this game. In its previous manifestations it was already the greatest game ever made (yeah chess, thass right. What have you done for me lately?), but now it's less fussy, faster paced, and filled with endearing silliness. Canyon has been forced to put up with my wasting hours on the hellishly addictive thing, so much so that I'm now responding to her conversational gambits with a reflexive "Follum follum!" If you've played it, you know what that means.

Tropic Thunder

It's taken us way longer than we would have liked to see Ben Stiller's attack on Hollywood, and it was not even worth the wait. Despite the odd great moment, the whole ambitious exercise falls flat with upsetting regularity. Though Robert Downey Jr.'s performance is just as amazing as we had heard, he didn't actually seem have anything funny to say, and we ended up laughing at Jack Black's cold turkey shenanigans instead. Stiller's original concept for the film is hugely appealing, but the execution of it just didn't seem to click at all, with the plot drifting along from one lengthy and ultimately unfunny scene to another, seemingly without direction or purpose. It made Zoolander look like a tightly plotted Preston Sturges movie (I say that as a fan of Zoolander who thinks it sometimes ambles when it should be sprinting). While Adam McKay's movies mostly come alive in the editing room, this never takes shape, and no amount of amusing scenes with Tom Cruise dancing and swearing can save it. Dispiriting stuff, though I'm hoping to see a longer cut soon that might justify that brilliant idea, and maybe even give Jay Baruchel and Brandon T. Jackson something to do other than be straight men. Zoolander got funnier with each viewing, so maybe something similar will happen here, though I doubt it.


Compare that to Pineapple Express, which we watched again, and is now, definitely, my favourite comedy of the year. Considering it's a stoner comedy it's built with the same care that Seth Rogen and Evan Goldberg lavished on Superbad, progressing with logical beauty from scene to scene with only a couple of moments at the end of the second act that show they love their McKee a bit too much. It's not a deal breaker at all, though, and the Hot Fuzz-style genre mash-up of the final act is even more satisfying second time around, with kudos going to Rogen's repeated declarations of, "Nice!" whenever anything goes his way (such as the hilarious respawning machine guns in the underground lair).


In comparison, Tropic Thunder looks like a first cut mess, something you would show to a studio head to reassure them that the money is on the screen. How talented individuals like Stiller, Etan Cohen (partly responsible for the magnificent Idiocracy) and Justin Theroux could botch this is beyond me. The latter name is especially troubling. My previous excitement at his participation in Iron Man 2 has withered completely. Let's hope he's better off without the improvisational scenes between the leads that appear to have derailed the film so badly.

Justice Society of America by Geoff Johns and Dale Eaglesham

Is this the best comic on the market right now? In terms of superheroism, perhaps it is, though of course it has been great since Geoff Johns jumped onto the title early in the previous incarnation. Johns is always great value (especially lately; he's on fire), but JSA is better than ever, making me retroactively like Kingdom Come more than I originally did. However, the main reason is...





...OMG Hawkman is a TOTAL BADASS. Trust Goody-Two Shoes Jay to get in his way though.

Hunger

Turner Prize-winning director Steve McQueen's meditation on Bobby Sands' hunger strike has been damned by some of the UK press for daring to portray the Republican struggle in a noble light, which is hilariously inappropriate as that is absolutely not what the film is about at all. While, yes, it is set in The Maze and follows Sands' strike from conception to death, and while it shows in horrific detail the back-and-forth mental and physical combat between the imprisoned IRA soldiers/terrorists/politicians (delete as applicable) and the guards, it's pretty much an abstract exploration of what art is. Prisoners daub the walls of the cells with shit, flood the corridors of the prison with urine, and, eventually, stage a protest that turns their bodies, as depicted by McQueen, into a time-lapse photo of living, breathing decay. Even the poster shows one of the "paintings" by a prisoner (a nod to previous Turner Prize winner Chris Ofili?).


This is, as far as I can tell, the one reading of the movie that explains the peculiar structure. The first third of the film concerns a new prisoner (Davey, played by Brian Milligan) learning the ropes of prison life and the protests therein via his cellmate Gerry (Liam McMahon), the middle third is the much-debated conversation between Sands (Michael Fassbender) and his priest (Liam Cunningham) about mortality and politics, and the final third is an impassive, minimalist depiction of Sands' lengthy death with Davey and Gerry disappearing from the movie altogether. Bear in mind, except for the middle section, there is almost no dialogue, with only a minimal amount of verbally communicated information giving background on what is happening. There is barely any character development, but then that's not what the film is about. It's about their acts, their attempts to say something with little more than their bodies as the conduit of their emotion and rage. Much of what they do has little effect. The shit paintings are blasted away and the urine is washed up in a shot of audience-patience-defying length. Only the deaths of the hunger strikers seem to have any effect, though that is relegated to a few title cards at the end of the movie giving a few nuggets of information about the subsequent years.


Getting angry about the movie for glamourising the strike (shurely shome mishtake; it's nigh-unwatchable) or having a pro-IRA agenda seems wrong-headed, though I understand many people are never going to allow themselves to move on from those horrible years during the struggle. However, in the terms of the film, that struggle is less important than McQueen's interest in the way the prisoners and hunger strikers express themselves, with the only scene that debates the details of the Republican battles and the morality of politicised suicide being the notorious static art/anti-art shot of a drab room and Sands and his priest smoking and talking for twenty minutes, which, while hypnotic and superbly played, stands in contrast with the bleak, almost silent beauty of the rest of the movie. McQueen seems to be staring into his soul and wondering why he is an artist, and how his art compares to something as drastic as turning the place you live into a hellhole using only the waste products of your body, or allowing yourself to be brutalised just to make a statement and to psychologically affect those who torture you. Isn't art meant to affect the people who experience it? Isn't making a person beat you to a bloody pulp the most extreme way to do that? Where does that leave McQueen and the rest of the YBAs?


Can you tell that I thought it was amazing? There's a lot to digest (really, no pun intended), especially as it is attracting some fascinating debate, as in this excellent piece from Frieze magazine. It's definitely on my end of year best film list, and strongly recommended for anyone who can handle the body horror.

I'm unsure as to whether admitting that I spent the last couple of weeks doing all of that in addition to habitually checking on Obama's progress makes me look more or less sad. I could lie and say I also went sailing, if that helps. Of course, now we're waiting for his press conferences as if they were episodes of Friday Night Lights, as we tuned into CNN last night to see him talk about getting a shelter dog (which made Canyon almost swoon) and expressing condolences over a journalist's damaged arm (which almost finished me off). Compared to that slavish devotion to the President-Elect, acting like a couple of lovestruck groupies, six hour marathons of CivRev almost look cool.

Newsflash: Clone Wars Not Disaster Shocker

Some quick thoughts on Dave Filoni's Star Wars: The Clone Wars: Episode Two and Three Quarters: Battle Of The Space Wars: In Space, which I just saw along with a lot of old people and their grandkids.

• It's not terrible.
• It's not particularly brilliant either.
• I appreciate that this could have something to do with me having a baseline level of nerdery that means I get something out of even the most wretched sci fi movies, but seriously, this is not a catastrophe. It's a leaden but passable kid's film with a couple of fun action scenes. I'm glad I saw it, but I probably won't ever watch it again.
• The animation is quite stiff; characters move less fluidly than most in CG animated movies, but it's not a deal breaker. It might account for all of the cut-scene comparisons the film has been getting, though.
• I did like the character designs, though. Screenshots made their stylised features look silly, but seen on the big screen you can see lovely details. They look like moving clay statues that have been roughly painted, and as such almost have an analogue charm to them.




• The clouds of the various planets also look painted, resembling the slowly morphing backgrounds in the superb Xbox Live Arcade game Braid, though they are not as expressionistic. It's not a spectacular visual orgasm or anything, being made for TV and therefore being cheaper than Pixar movies, but the budget constraints haven't stopped Filoni and his animators making the most of what they've got in order to create something that looks interesting.
• The dialogue is quite dreadful, mostly comprised of flat exposition, bland jokes, and first draft clunkers, which is a very clever move on the part of the writers, as it exactly matches the dialogue in the Star Wars prequel trilogy. I have a feeling that a lot of the vitriol poured on this movie for having dialogue that works on a Age 5-8 level is that it reminds the audience that the prequel films, heavily anticipated and watched avidly by original prequel fans, were meant for kids first, adults second. Fans probably don't want to be reminded that they had invested a lot of energy in something that was not meant for them.
• Disclaimer: I was one of those fans. I'm right there with you, nerd brethren, but I'm over it now, thank God.
• All of the nerd-hatred poured out about Ziro the Hutt (i.e. the hatred not inspired by his perceived sexuality) might be justified if you are steeped in Star Wars continuity and are furious that he is meant to be the uncle of Jabba but ZOMG Hutts procreate asexually and only have one child each so how could Jabba's father have a brother?!!!?11!!?1!!@/@1!#???!! However, it's a really accurate impersonation of Truman Capote, which has struck many as a derogatory statement against homosexuals, but besides that is so out-of-place and eccentric (actually, "demented and immune to logic or rationality" sums up Lucas' decision-making processes) that it momentarily transcends sexual politics and ends up getting an astonished laugh from the audience (well, me, anyway).
• Ziro is a godawful and poorly-judged caricature, though. What the hell were they thinking?
• Lucas is apparently quite insane, and I think the Star Wars movies and forthcoming TV show would benefit from other celebrity impersonations, especially if it stops him creating characters that sound like awful racial stereotypes. Why not have a Neimoidian who sounds like Ed Sullivan? A Mon Calamari who sounds like Bette Davis? A Kaminoan who sounds like Groucho Marx? The Star Wars movies would have been so much more entertaining with more of these inexplicable whims from Lucas, the beardy-weirdy.




• Hey, Lucas, Amidala was boring, is boring, and always will be boring. Plus she gets rescued by C3PO. Space fail!
• Too! Much! Boring! Plot! (Again, keeping in line with the other prequel movies.)
  
• The biggest crime of Star Wars: The Clone Wars, one that I can't blame the actual filmmakers for, is that it is not Star Wars: Clone Wars, which, if you are filled with nerd blood, makes more sense than it seems. This movie, The Clone Wars, is unremarkable and overplotted (though watchable), while Clone Wars, directed by the incredible Genndy Tartakovsky, was magnificent. It moved as fast as a rocket, almost entirely eschewed lumbering plot discussions, and featured many of the most innovative and exciting sequences of the entire filmed Star Wars series.




• In fact, this might rank among my favourite moments of nerd cool ever committed to film and accounts for why my favourite Jedi ever is Mace Windu (well, that and the casting of Samuel L. Jackson, who I won't hear a bad word said against). Whenever people complain about ADD editing in action movies, complaining about Michael Bay and his ilk, I want to show them that clip to prove that there are still people who understand how to construct, block, and edit an action scene so that it not only makes sense but also generates the majority of its emotional charge through rhythm and escalation.
• There is nothing even vaguely as cool as that in the new movie, and by the end of the film I was falling asleep from the repetitive fight scenes, but early on there are some fun moments. As I said, I probably won't ever rewatch this, but I keep watching the Tartakovsky version over and over again because it is so unbelievably cool and fun and fast-paced and even, at times, epic in a way even the live-action movies forget to be. It's kind of an insult to the great man that Lucas never thought to bump his work onto the big screen, but was happy to do that for something that is bland and underachieving in comparison.
  




• It struck me mid-way through the current Clone Wars movie that it's very odd to be watching a story told in this order. First the last three films, then two prequels, the previous Clone Wars series, the last prequel, and now another story set between the series and Revenge of the Sith. As a result we've had to deal with a lot of cognitive dissonance as we are expected to feel empathy for a bunch of Clone Troopers we know have been subconsciously programmed to kill Jedi on command, and overlook the fact that the hero of The Clone Wars, Anakin, has been given a Padawan trainee, the obnoxious Ahsoka Tano, who is only a little older than the "younglings" he massacres in Sith. I doubt that introducing a young character is a way to foreshadow that, as the film never hints that that is to come, and she seems merely to be an audience surrogate for the kids the film is aimed at, but it did make me a bit uncomfortable.
• Nice touch getting Christopher Lee back to play Count Dooku. He added some class to the proceedings. Sam Jackson, on the other hand, got to say nothing particularly interesting. Wasted opportunity.




• The conversations between Anakin, Obi-Wan, and Ahsoka are endlessly dull, going around in circles and never containing even an atom of wit. Midway through one of these seemingly infinite back-and-forths (many of which repeat information from earlier on, betraying its multi-episode TV origins), I realised that if the terrifying hyper-sensitive Political Correctness Gone Really Mad future world of Demolition Man ever came to pass, Lucas-style banter would be what replaces humour. It was an epiphany that chilled me to the bone, and made me want to see Pineapple Express and Tropic Thunder even more than I already do (i.e. a lot).
• Clone troopers know martial arts? Whuh?
• Er...
• That's it.

Oh, and Moriarty continues to be the best thing about Ain't It Cool News. Lucas should send him a bunch of flowers or a few hundred thousand unsold action figures for treating with such childish disdain. Lucasarts, though it might occasionally strike gold, has no class. ::Prepares for hissy fit from visionary director of THX 1138::

A Lot Of People Come To Me And They Say, "Hey..."

"...Admiral, I need to know, and I need to know now. What is perfection? Is it the innocent smile of a happy child? Is it the excited gleam in a lover's eye? Is it the sun rising over the fog-shrouded city of Macchu Picchu?" And now I can answer, with 100% confidence, "No. It's Seth Rogen leaping onto Gary Cole like a spider monkey at the 2:09 point in this trailer for Pineapple Express."



You're welcome. I know, I know, that trailer's been around for ages, and the majority of humanity has already seen it, but I just watched it for the thousandth time this year and I had to link to it, just to become yet another cog in the hype machine. It's in my blogging contract that I use up a day a week lazily sticking a movie on the blog. Failure to comply means having to review all four seasons of Desperate Housewives, which ain't happening while I've got a say in the matter. Posting a trailer as beautifully constructed as that makes up for being a studio-fellating shill/whore hybrid.

Rogen and co-screenwriter Evan Goldberg performed a bit of miracle writing with their first collaboration Superbad, a movie that escalated perfectly from an inauspicious beginning to a full-on meltdown of comic payoffs that had been set up with such elegance that the blood, sweat, and tears they had shed to polish the script were all but invisible. So, great writer and likeable actor, but I never realised what a great physical presence Rogen has. Like a flying bear, he sells that moment perfectly. I think I snapped three ribs laughing when I first saw it.


Apatow gets a lot of flack for what is seen to be misogyny, and I'll agree Superbad had some dodgy moments (Canyon is also in two minds about it), but even taking that into account it only narrowly missed my 2007 top ten list. That escalation of comedic intensity, and the confidence with which the movie flirted with audience estrangement, really impressed me. From what has been said about Pineapple Express, it seems like Rogen, Goldberg, and director David Gordon Green have added violence to the mix, which could be a brave step too far, but advance reports are very promising.

Besides, that trailer is so good it not only makes me forget James Franco's phoned-in Spider-Man 3 performance (which I don't entirely blame him for, but still), and it not only circumvents my general (ironic) apathy toward stoner comedies, it even makes me want to track down that M.I.A. song despite my hatred for her first album being so strong that I considered selling my ears just so I wouldn't risk accidentally hearing it again.


Fly, cuddly bear-man, fly!