Okay, so there's a movie out right now, called,"Max". You know the story, heck, you can probably figure out the entire plot by just watching the trailer. Obviously, it's designed for children, warmongers, Cheneys and GOP members, but you get the gist. Military good. Dogs good. Mix well. No names in the credits, save money and you have counterprogramming.
But here's the thing. If you look into the eyes of law, a dog is not a person. They are not the military hero the movie portrays.
They are a glorified gun, in reality.
Sorry, I hate to break it to. Dogs exhibit many human traits, and we, wanting so badly to see them as kin, acknowledge it. But the fact is, they are, in the end, an animal.
An animal with severe compassion for our stupid selves.
Hey, dudes, trust me, I'm addicted to my corgis. I see them as people, but my point is-we probably shouldn't. The more we see the dog under the fur, the better we can understand who they are and what they do.
Glorifing them is fun-a great movie can be born of it.
But has there ever been a movie made about the life of a dog that is, truly, about the life of a dog?
I have found one.
My Dog Tulip is nothing more than a facinating creation of an audiobook of the literature by the same name. In it, J. Ackerly, here played wonderfully by Christopher Plummer, talks about his life with his own German Shepard, from her adoption to her passing. He interjects himself as the protagonist and the experiences and ancedotes about their time together.
The film is brilliantly animated, and, from that, the coarse realities of dog rearing and husbandary are a bit more digestable. See, unlike Max, mentioned prior, this is an English point of view. The delicious language details, ad naseum at points, their life together-but that's the point. This man is living through his dog, in his twilight years. And as age slows him, his interests in enhancing her life becomes paramount.
A symbolism that would be wasted on a live action film.
Plus, Americans? We'd be sad there's not cute meeting, no cute romance, no wicked humor. Surely, there is dry humor, but it comes from Plummer's enhanced reading more than the situation. The tale is massively character based and that's also part of it's charm.
A charm that I acknowledged on social media with the comment...."it's a writer thing." The words in his movie are short of Shakespearean in approach and dictation, a love for words that shines through.
Because there's some no so pretty things that this man talks about. Tulip's getting sick; her dating habits and how to get her to breed. Not funny.
There's something genuine here and I appreciated it
I am sure, however, that not many will. You could almost choose to download it to a mp3 player and get the same wonderful experience.
See what you think. Just understand, it's not for everyone. Especially if you found the trailer for "Max" exhilirating.
I was just reading somewhere, in that dark corner of the internet (mostly likely Reddit.com) about why, really, horror movies seem to be the only original works left in Hollywood. And it makes sense. Small cast, don't even need brand name performers, everything happens in the dark, and you can kill most of them off, so the most desparate actors will work for half the price.
And the payback will be huge, sometimes earning 100 times more than the budget.
We've seen tasty tidbits like the Blair Witch Project and Insidious. Even the Conjuring, which was incredibly true to the book and didn't have one death on screen, played to packed houses when it opened.
Now, me, I'm not an addict to horror movies like some in the realm of fandom. My cousin goes to conventions; another colleague has themed nights where he teaches people about the joys of horror movies. Heck, I've never even attended the nearby Universal Horror Nights.
However, like many, a decent scare is just as cathartic as a ride on a good rollercoaster.
That's if they are successful.
My most recent foray in horror films was one, again, recommended by a teenager friend.
If it scares a teenager, it should be decent. Of course, it might also contain graphic nudity and really bad jokes about farts.
But they insisted I try out the Babadook.
And I discovered something.
Either I'm getting old or the definition of what is scary must be changing.
Because, like the Ring before this, this wasn't very good.
Look at that adverb there, "very." The reason I'm adding it? It's because it's not too bad either. I was also drawn to this movie because it had a rare component. Jennifer Kent, a woman director. I detest I had to point that out. I should say a novice director, but, culture being what it is now, women directors are excellent-but too garldarn few. My interest was piqued.
Since this was the director's only cut so far, I cannot lay comment on her auteur abilities. If this what we are going to see from her?
She is going to make a great movie; most likely sooner than later. This film is ripe. It has a fantastic production value, taking place in a tight, darkened home with a bad lawn care. Tropes, yes, but it makes sense given the characters' depression. She rotates the camera around so all four walls are seen in a given seen. Furniture is consistent, continunity is powerful. Also, probably because she is so new, her budget was micro. But her monster was evident, even if it was shot in shadow.
The flashes of brilliance are evident. And gives me hope with her movies.
LIke the next one.
The fault lies in the storyline and pacing. Writing is the backbone of any horror piece and the monster, however ominious, is not given a mythos. At times, it is a mere suggestion that this might be just happening in the protagonist's head; others it seems there's a demon of sorts loose in the woodworks. But even at the end of the tale, I wasn't really sure what the threat was. We'd go from truly monsterous attacks, but the suspense would be dropped as, get this, characters just go back to bed.
Huh?
Here's the other thing. Kids today are strong than we think. In this story, a single woman, Amelia (played by Essie Davis), is raising her emotionally disabled son. However, the filmmaker makes the disabilty just a screaming kid. No complexity or reality is interjected. Heck, after a while, I started to want the monster to him. No compassion for him whatso ever. As the tale increases, she read to him a book he finds on a shelf and the monster from the book arrives to eat them.
Her husband who died in a car accident then arrives and asks for the child. The child's what? Soul? Heart? Hair? Is it the Babadook?
Without a structure to the mythology, the audience was dropped.
With imagery so vivid I could not look way. I was torn.
Hence, the term "very" good. Somewhere almost-good. Watch it and tell me what you think.
I am unsure of what brought this film to my attention; I had not read Cormac McCarthy's book by the same name. Strangely, I have read some of his shorter fiction, and his terrific use of language did not go wasted.
But they, too, in their presentation, was quite bleak.
You might want to get used to that word. It's the adjective today.
I like to think of myself as a happy person, a positive, likeable individual. Diplomatic, approachable. And, because of that, perhaps, I seek out the dark, the forced corners of rooms, to balance my manner of being. I read and write horror fiction; I love the Haunted Mansion over any postive future that Future World in EPCOT can bring.
I think by exercising such demons, I'm able to keep myself a bit more together than most. It's a risk I take, I'm sure, and one day I may just snap. But perhaps that why I found myself really into the movie based on Cormac's text.
No matter how bleak.
The tale unfolds after some kind of apocolyse. It is never detailed, never elaborated upon, nor should it have to be. It merely establishes the setting. And the filmmaker, Joe Hillcoat, emphasizes it with an elaborate use of shades of gray-probably the best I've seen in use since Speilberg's Schlinder's List. Darkness abounds, hope is lost and all that is left is a basic shade of a newspaper.
Into this landscape, the author and filmmaker toss two souls, Man and Boy. No proper nouns at all. That's telling us, in the audience what we are to read into the tale.
This is an allegory, folks. By not having a name, we can go ahead and inject our own fears and desires onto the protagonists. And what a journey they are taking. Whatever killed off the world, killed off all animals and all plants. Food doesn't exist. Roving bands of bandits caputure travelers and devour them.
Man is played by Viggo Mortensen, who, as I see him on screen more and more, is becoming something of a working man's Johnny Depp. Both take strange and fantastic roles whenever possible, juicy parts that are just outside of expectation and it works. Here? A doctor (it's hinted at) and his son. He cannot kill himself, but he does wish to. He cannot bring himself to kill his living son, in his case played by up and coming Kodi McPhee (he'll be the new X-Men as Nightcrawler), who, since he is a child, only sees good.
The drawback of young actors? He is a bit too clueless. Surely a child would even learn the threat of people with guns and no food, if that's the only existence you've had most of your life. But this is a quibble, for his role is nto particularly elaborate.
For all it's bleakness, it is a good movie, but I'm not using the word, "good," correctly. Good as in a sturdy movie that conveys a themetic enterprise to a conclusion. There's a full story here, excellent imagery and strong symbolism. It is very worthwhile.
But, understand, this is not a horror movie. Even though the tale is horrific and the elements wherein, this isn't designed to scare you or play with supernatural elements in any way. Nor is this a piece on science fiction, a meditation of life after a disaster. It is, and this is it's strong point, a rumination of concepts of hope and dreams. They are part of our nature, just as sure as the bare necessities. These character wish to live, even when there's no reason to do so.
It is played out in a very different manner in shows like The Walking Dead, but here, the story is the thing, the drama the medium to carry out the message. Wereas I would recommend it, it would be with trepidation. This is a movie for art houses and the ilk, so taht folks can head to the coffeehouse and discuss their feelings about what they saw. This isn't one to scream and yell.
Because I take movies so seriously, I have to, on occasion, give myself over to the fun stuff. Sometimes, movies are just eye candy, really, something for Tom Cruise or Will Smith to blow up stuff with and have us get that large popcorn. Sometimes, too, they are to move us on a level inaccessible through everyday interactions.
And, sometimes, they make us all hot and bothered.
Today is a hot and bothered day. Sure, yes, I gave these hotties some numbers, but, yeah, they're really not in any kind of heirarchy. Personally? I think this might be the perfect psychological exam to see what I like in my men, what makes me all gaga over the masculine form.
Grant you, I'm no idiot. I am so much like that famous quip from Beth, yes, I can call Elizabeth, Beth, but from Beth Taylor-"No, I don't like men. I LOVE men! I want to hold them and squeeze them!"
So here's to the silver screen and those wonderful men that make me, and maybe some of you, swoon. Maybe I'll surprise you.
10. Peter Dinklage-I first noticed this gentleman in The Station Agent, a profoundly obvious star vehicle to get him noticed, and, well, it worked.
Believe it or not, I have not seen Game of Thrones, but I don't doubt it. I have noticed him in titles like Death at Funeral, and, moreso, in 30 Rock. There, I noticed, yes, his voice and style. This is a man who oozes personality. He's the moody poet in the corner, that bad boy, that you just HAVE to sit by and hope he notices you. He has a sense of humor, but it's all of that ironic stuff that you're not sure you should laugh at. The camera is kind to him as well.
Personally? It's his freegin eyes. He could melt sunglasses.
9. Harrison Ford-My first crush. Hairy chest. Wizened deameanor. Can do action. But strong stage presence is evident. Part of the so many great movies because, well, he is a real man. The funny thing? He's not particularly macho, either. So many action stars, like Arnold, were other worldly. Biceps too big for this reality. But Mr. Ford? He is shy when off camera. He smiles, but it's only a half smile, like he's embarassed by his abs of steel. If he's in a title, I will do my best to pay it a visit.
8. Jackie Chan-cute as a button, an action star who kicks ass, and hilarious in person. A sense of humor that literally boils over, even if you can't understand his accent. I will learn Chinese just to be in a movie with this man, he's that good. He's one of the few on this list I can honestly say I have seen all of his movies more than once. His smile is omnipresent, too. Watch when he appeared on the Oscars.
He's just so proud to be there. And me? I was furious when I saw him, for, basically, he's one of the largest movie stars in the world, and here? He's introducing "Live Action Short." How does that work? The dude is AWESOME. I've noticed, too, what I really like about him, what makes him so appealing is, in every fight, he makes a mistake. He is never the bad ass in the movie, even when he's the hero. If he's fighting with a female cohort? She'll land every punch; he'll muck it up and make her life difficult. The big finale only lasts so long as he keeps making mistakes like falling onto hot embers.
That makes him the fool, but it also makes him much more accessible than the Bruce Willises of the world.
And, yes, he's cute.
7. Mark Wahlberg-you remember this scene? When Tina goes to a guy she met at work?
Yeah. Right there. You saw her looks. Now Mark is, truly, a leading man. And we're not talking the seriousness of Gregory Peck, the versatility of Jack Lemmon, or the openness of Paul Newman (btw, see below, ahem). But there's something classic about Mark. He knows his body is part of his charm. But I have never felt him to be one note. He's more like a Douglas Fairbanks. Where the action hero is evident, but the comedy is also relevant. I see him change characters and try different kinds of movies. He's played bad guys (Fear), understated teachers (the Happening), cops (The Departed), and yet finds time to even play this charmer, walk-on cameo.
And he has a chest.
He elected, too, to not go the way of the Arnold, chiming out hit after hit, either. Instead, he knows his strengths and then plays to them in a variety. I find myself wanting to see him more (and more, and more). The camera is kind to him, but there's something very basic about him-like you'd know someone like him.
I know I want to know him.
6. Paul Newman/Robert Redford-Yeah, a two parter. Lemme start with the basics. Paul. One of the first celebrity, fudge, he was never a celebe. he was always and actor. Seriously, an actor. His wife has the same birthday as me. Anyhows, I was writing a college paper on good old Tennessee Williams. Talk about an American playwright, if ever there was one. And, as part, I had to read Cat on a Hot Tin Roof.
Yes, I admit it. I was a closet case and it gave me an opportunity to read about a famous closet case who wrote a play about being closet cases without ever giving away the secret.
If you've seen the play, the male lead had a fling with the star of the football team. It's never stated, but everyone is messed up about it in the regal South, but no one says it. That being the case? Paul played the famed male lead, shirt open in the fifties, leg in a cast (read the play, that's not what this column is supposed to be about), limping about pining for the man he loved.
On a sidenote, his character was married to Beth Taylor (there she is again), which makes him REALLY gay, when you think about it.
But his intensity and angst oozed out of every poor. Not only was a great actor, he was willing-to-do-it part, no holds barred. And we know how hot the summer nights get in the Deep South and he made it just as steamy. It was awesome and my little closeted heart had to watch that movie, twice.
Then? I was watching Indecent Proposal with a Robert Redford. Yeah, Sundance to Mr. Butch Cassidy, played by Paul Newman, in Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. The movie sucked, but on one reason only.
How, in the world, would someone like Bob Redford have to pay someone to go on a date with him?
This came up recently, as I watched him play the villian in Captain America: Winter Solider.
And my heart skipped a beat. That vegetarain is still got it and he's the same age as my mom. Maybe it's my living in Florida and hanging around so many seniors, but, dang, he looked great.
He's such a good actor, too, I had to fight to hate him, er, his character.
5. Daniel Craig-I know, I'm cheating, most likely, again. I mean, seriously. Ever since my Brit Lit II teacher allowed me to read Ian Fleming's book and report on their contributions to British literature worldwide (surprise, surprise, they really have..), I have been in love with Mr. Bond, repeatedly. Moreso, I think it's the debonair, the intrigue, and the style, but, what have you.
Then there was Daniel Craig.
I first noticed him after we went to see Tomb Raider. I do love me so actioners, that I do, and Anjelina Jolie is freegin' awesome with a gun. And her male sidekick in this one?
Let's just say he hopped out of the shower in one scene and I was quickly googling who the heck Mr. Abstastic was.
Daniel Craig. Here's the thing. This dude is like hiring a Shakespearean actor for a kid's flick. He actually has some decent acting chops to support flimsy scripts.
Example: Cowboys and Aliens and Quantum of Solace.
And some decent abs chops. The dude helped make Dame Judi Dench keep her awesomeness. And if you can keep your own against the best M in the film series, you're good.
4. Idris Elba-His eyes. His eyes tell a story. I came across this Thespian when I heard his name being tossed around for the role of Balder in the first Thor movie. Everyone was up in arms about the role of his being black in a Nordic tale.
Oh please. People work with me. It's a story. And a good one.
So, when I saw the movie, and saw this huge man with the stage presence that, in 15 lines, outshone the actual lead protagonist in the movie, I was more than impressed. He even impressed me by outshining the villian as well.
I was smiten. I had to see more. Lately, he was discussed as a possible Bond, as well.
I would see that movie, please.
Here's the thing, the man has an authoriative presence that cannot be denied.
And he's a bit easy on the eyes as well. Everytime I hear him in something, I have to find out more. I want to see this performer more. Even in the shitty actioners.
He does suffer from the same problem as Daniel Craig and many other British Thesps.
Comedy. To me, that sells the performance a bit more. Daniel Craig seems to suffer the same.
3. Marlon Brando-no, not the fat one. The older one. Specifically, the one that showed up in a Streetcar Named Desire.
Showed the movie to my husband, probably the 100th time I'd watched it and even my stoic husOtter said, "well, then, hello youth."
Yes, I blame that blasted paper I wrote in college. Curse you Tennessee Williams! However, I'm noticing a trend here, by now. These men moved to the top of my lists when I was required to work with the literature they were tied to, as if, in my own way, I'd gotten to know them personally. That could be saying something of why several of these men have played such classical character.
And Marlon was one of them.
Talk about raw. One of the few performers, really, ever, to talk about the New Wave of acting (being instead of facing, as it were), of the Lee Strasberg school of acting, he was more than true to the character. He was, truly, THERE.
Not only that, he played the antagonist. The raw sexuality the other character were not understanding. He was, by all definitions, the villain. But he played it with a bit of sentiment. He actually made you pity the slug. I hated him, but I understood him and his pain on a level that was unspoken and unwritten.
That's a testament to the actor and, well, let's just look at that photo again, before time and stress tore it apart.
2. Brad Pitt-what can I say about dear Bradly? I mean, I noticed him, first off, in Thelma and Louise. A terrific movie and he did something that women had done for ages. Played the dumb blonde.
And he didn't care. This is a man who left his first wife for his second due to her sheer philantropic works. He's still with her and has acted twice with her.
That's the thing. He knew he was a pretty face. And he used it to get choice, juicy roles that did not play to it. Inglorious Basterds.12 Monkeys. World War Z (I mean, really, a Peace Corps doctor? But then I saw the movie...).
Bradley reminds of, also, the classic Hollywood. A face that the camera is kind to, but really takes envigorating roles. It's evident he rotates parts with his ever-awesome wife, and is willing to go to many, many public events with her. He raise money with her and not afraid to be seen with her in public.
Dude. Please, please, please, play a gay character. Or don't. I don't know if my heart can take it.
1. Chris Evans-I admit it. I put him at number one for one specific reason.
I don't care if he can act. I know. All my professionalism *foom* out the window. I knew something was up when I found myself going to see the outstanding piece of crap known as Push. Two hours of my life I may never get back, a piece of craptacular.
And yet he glorified the screen. I couldn't turn away.
However, he did do something that many should be proud of. He played Captain America to the hilt and didn't turn him into a stereotype, but something worthwhile and approachable. One of the move beloved characters in the Marvel pantheon and he's made it into something that doesn't look stupid in uniform.
In fact, his sequel, The Winter Solider? Became a "Bourne Identity" thriller with a certain amount of symbolism about how the government has been purchased from private industry and war mongers. d
Heavy shit for an actioner.
But he does it.
And doesn't take off his shirt every 15 minutes, either.
Not that I would mind.
I saw him also in several other titles and, well, he is young, but each role gets a bit better and better, and I have hope that he'll continue to stay on the big screen long beyond his character. I learned, later, as well, that he has a younger brother who is gay. And, because of that, he knows to play to that crowd as well-and look at that impact.
Let's see Mr. Evans do a bit more. I know he's worthwhile.
Have you ever gone to a unique restaurant that was so good, you wanted to scream it from the mountaintops-and then realized that your friends hated that style or ethnic cuisine? Have you ever heard an awesome album, but can't share it with your partner because they hate pop music?
This is my current dilemma. I saw a really bold movie just this past weekend, and it was delicious, a rare treat. And I know no one would go see it. It was called The Eagle, and I only came across it due to it's Irish and Celtic overtones.
It even stars Channing Tatum. And he's acting. He's shirtless, something about his contract, I'm sure, but he's asleep and he has a blanket over him. So there's that negative, if that turned your crank. But, without the nods to his pecs, he was forced to act and, you know what, if he keeps picking titles like this, he might actually have something to go on. In this tale, he plays a Roman solider, a man who's father died in the vast wilderness of Britian.
Stop laughing. around 100AD, when this story takes place, England, Scotland, and Wales were considered untameable by the Roman Empire. So much so, Roman Emperor Hadrian built a wall dividing the country (parts still stand today) so that no Roman would venture out and be killed by those crazy Britons and Celts.
See why I was interested?
Those beserker Brits basically used guerilla tactics and the Romans were ill suited to fight such random attacks. And they killed Marcus'(Tatum's character) father and stole the family standard, a large golden Eagle emblem. Determined to get it back, he requests to be stationed at a nearby fort and is mortally wounded when those wilders attack. He's carted back to Rome and begins to heal himself. He encounters a Briton slave, played by the completely underused Jaime Bell-and when I say underused, I mean, this kid needs to be in more movies, he's magnetic-a saves his life in a gladiator ring. Here's the tic, and it defines the movie. Does Marcus jump into the ring to save this young man and there's a huge fight scene? No. He encourages the audience to vote to let the man live.
Whoa. Reality-ish.
In fact, there's no love story. Okay, well, maybe Marcus dabbled with his slave, Erca, a bit, but it's not shown at all. In fact, there's not forced love story at all-there are no women at all in this movie. There's not one cliche, one predictable moment, not one soaring piece of music to cue us in on how we are to be feeling. Nothing is fabricated. This movie is more like it was in Rome than Russell Crowe's Gladiator ever was.
And that's why it was good. Marcus heals and uses his slave as a translator into the wilds to see if he can ge back his family's standard. In the process, he encounters the Celts of old. They were tribal, vicious, not yet used to farming, and violent, as well as, unorganized. As the two men encounter more and more, Erca translaning the Gaelic more and more, we take the journey with them and feel the pulse of a countryside that has danger.
But not like in a horror movie or a suspense film. This is high drama and it works on a different level, as if we're watching a docudrama.
And, by now, you could see why I liked it.
And why it would be terrible for the masses in any form. Is it Oscar material? Not really. Doesn't have that scope. Everything is in poor light, costumes are muted and dirty, and the script is novel but not particularly creative in the language department.
So, like, I saw this great movie this weekend that I really enjoyed. But I doubt anyone really will ever know.
