Movie AND Attraction Reviews: D-Box Motion Theater and Star Trek: Beyond

For all the vilification that accumulated over the years in hatred for both Michael Jackson and Captain Eo, I have to admit, the two have always had a very special place in my heart. For one, I am and was an 80s kid. I ran home to see the premiere of Michael’s Thriller. And when I heard he was making another such film, I ran my butt out to Disneyland (our home park from Colorado) and waited a decent sweltering 3 hours for it’s opening, along with Star Tours.

So, on a recent trip to EPCOT, when the heat got too much and much aligned film (everyone seems to love to hate that blasted little ditty from the 80s, maybe it reminds too many of their boulderized childhoods), we arrived late and ended up towards the back of the house. Now, I had known for some time that the theater here at Walt Disney World was on an actuator, and, like Star Trek, the entire huge house could move back and forth, up and down.

I just never realized it. I like to be me and the screen.

However, sitting to the back? I saw it. I saw the heads in the house bob with the beat of the music, and they were not just jamming. Loud sounds? Thump went the floor. Explosions made the seats shimmy. Suddenly, that movie I had see a few gazillion times was interesting, even on a minor level, again.

Growing up in Colorado, I eventually outgrew the sights and sounds that made the state a tourist destination. Eventually, everyone who came to visit seemed to want to visit the same five things and, well, it killed my sense of adventure for my homestate. Which is too bad, if you’re an outdoorsy-hippie-tree-hugger, it truly is the place to be.

It’s all that green.

But when I moved to Florida, I figured out-I don’t know everything here. I did not grow up here, so, basically, everything had a novelty to it. It’s wonderful. Crappy t-shirt stores suddenly take on a renewed vigor. My circles expand and expand and even old digs like Disney World still provides a newness I was not getting from hugging all those pine trees and digging out splinters.

This week’s quest led me to an item I stumbled upon, something called, “D-Box.” Now, one has only to visit my blog to see my undying love for movies, heck, even my brief mention for my love for the craptacular Captain Eo in the preceding paragraphs should show you, I dig cinema. When I heard about this concept, I was interested, at the very least.

How it works is that an adopting theater removes a row or two of seats, and places several of the chairs with these D-Box chaises. Now, you have to remember, I’m sure there’s an expense here, so they do add to the ticket price. And they’re retrofitted, too, so they’ll have to fit in a previously built theater. I notice there were two rows about the ninth row in, where we would normally position the speakers to aim at. A bit of a perk. The seats would have to be reserved seating as well, so that patrons who did not pay extra would not hop into the empty or available spaces. In fact, it looked like once a seat was reserved, it activated, making sure the theater was getting its money’s worth.

It was, well, interesting.

First off, that big theater with Captain Eo? Clunky. Large, grandiose movements. With each single seat having it’s own axis, I noticed these seats with D-Box were detailed in their motions and smooth. I did not feel jarred, per se, but since your feet are on steady ground, you are slightly more aware of the angles you are tilting. There’s a dial for you to select your intensity, but I did not toy with it, noticing that the ‘normal’ setting was strong enough.

Yes, you can even turn off.

Why would you want to, however? You paid extra.

I don’t recommend holding food that’s too full. Just in case. And put them away from your feet, also, just in case. They turn it on during the trailers, and even then, I was briefly impressed. The movement was perfectly coordinated with the movie and, as the length of the film progressed, I noticed I tended to forget the special seats we were in.

I also noticed that it keeps you from falling asleep. Such seats would probably not work for Casablanca or something deeply boring like that nine hour snooze-fest of the English Patient.  But for an actioner? Perfect. Something with running and jumping. We also thought it might be good with a decent horror flick, something where the seats jolt you at those specific moments. It’ll make you fear the chair more than the movie.

But let’s be real here. Movies in the theater are going down in the ticket sales department. People aren’t willing to risk the extra prices for something they don’t know, so reboots and sequels abound all over the map. Like 3-D prints of common movies, it looks like here’s Hollywood finding another way to wrestle another few dollars out of our collective pockets.

It’s fun, it’s neat, but I don’t know if it is something I would go out of my way to experience again, which is saying something. The only location is a half-empty mall off the edge of downtown Orlando, far from the various parks, so I wonder what the theater was thinking-it was not trying to pull tourist dollars.

I realized, as the movie went on, as I said before, I like to be me and the screen. I like the immersive-ness of that connection. And, on some attractions, that’s what makes it terrific. Look at Star Tours at Disney’s Hollywood Studios. By having you in a StarSpeeder 3000, no matter where you sit and, basically, watch the movie, you still feel part of a larger whole. Harry Potter’s Forbidden Journey shows films and has a dark ride component, and, again, the guest is totally immersed. Here? I was still in a theater. And with the rows of these special seats so far back, all I had to do was turn my head. I luckily saw the film, Star Trek: Beyond, in 3-D, so that helped some, but, again, the smells of popcorn wafted in and took me back to the realities that I was still in a theater.

There were points, too, when the motion was subtle and I forgot about being in such a specially designed seat, but these moments were too far and few between to really catch my attention and more of an effect of the quality of the picture than the reality of the seats we were in.

How was the Movie?

I supposed you’ve enough of my babbling here to make it this far, and you shall be rewarded. With everything going on while watching this flick, you’d think I’d not have an opinion.

First off, you do not need to see this movie in 3-D. I am not one for it myself, I will only go if it is the only time I can go. The fact is, movies these days are not made to be in 3-D and are usually digitally created after the film’s production. The only time I think it truly enhances movie going is with a bland title like Avatar, which holds no true originality, but does work better as a theme-park-kinda existence on an Imax screen; or, better, in the already 3-D animations that are coming out of Laika studios. I’m thinking Coraline, ParaNorman, or the upcoming Kubo and the Two Strings. The artists are making 3-D models, and I, for one, want to see it.

But Star Trek? Nah.

I’ve been slightly critical about the recent reboots of Star Trek. The television show, especially The Next Generation, really plied on the science. It was true science fiction, stuff that would make Neil Degrasse Tyson proud. However, the reboot, in order to pay for the superb special effects, needed to apply to a large audience. So the science, which tends to be cold (and, if you watched the television show, only in the engineering rooms), is toned down and the interplay is played up. But J.J. Abhrams does something well-he makes delicious ensemble pieces. Pick your character and, in two hours, they will have some screen time. In the previous incarnations of Star Trek, Spock and Kirk, all the way. Now? Every character has their due and it works like a small soap opera. That keeps the settings changing and the plot zipping forward.

And, as a follow author, it is a bitch to write in long form, I can only imagine having to tackle it in a two hour screenplay.

That is where we are with this picture, too. Here, we have a new baddie with a grudge coming after the famed United Federation of Planets and our heroes and their ship are caught in the fray. Do I need to elaborate? You will see it again. Is it good? Yes, and, I found slightly better than it’s predecessors. This time, J.J. has let Justin Lin take the helm and he seems very bothered by the plot of it all, so he keeps the talking bits curt and the point, and I did not mind. The problem? The plot is intricate, with ties to this moment and that moment. If you are not paying attention, the tale can ride away from you. I suppose I could elaborate, but it defies description.

Let’s see if I can do it some justice without releasing spoilers: Bad guy wants a weapon with known success and the Enterprise has it. Destroys the ship and scatters the crew. Each member of the crew follows their own trajectory in the plot until their combined knowledge wins the day.

Yeah, no details because with eight major characters, the reading would make your head explode. Should you go see it? If you like this kind of movie, sure. Even if you are not into Star Trek, it has enough running and jumping that it can be seen as summer fare.

On a sidenote, and I do not believe I’m giving any spoilers here, Idris Elba is playing the villain. I always hated the stereotype of English men always being the bad guys, but, well, here’s Idris having to take that rein again. Not only that, for some reason, they put a mask on that beautiful face of his. Why does Hollywood have this image that he can’t just...you know…be? I really think Hollywood, like so much of Washington, has little concept of the audiences they are playing to. Why is this?

So, yes, this movie is entertaining, but not enough that if you elect to just Netflix it when it becomes available. For me? Just seeing the brief moment of Sulu with his husband was awesome, truly, in terms of visibility, but, like with hiding Idris from our prying eyes, why were they even worried about it. Why not just have John Cho’s version outright be gay? Why just push it aside to a footnote? The argument could be made that such things are really not tantamount to the perils of the tale, IE:  by that point in the future, it is enough commonplace that to make an issue out of it in the storyline, THAT would seem out of place, moreso. There was a point, in Star Trek, The Next Generation, where dear Counselor Troi, when the ship encounters a race of hermaphrodites that abhor gender identity simple states about the Federation, “they aren’t as accepting as our cultures have progressed.” So, by not identifying it, they have, in a way, shown that it really isn’t, in the end, that big of a deal.

Maybe it isn’t.

But go if you’re interested. I liked it. And I’m not even a Trekkie. I found it progressed quickly and I’d probably like it regardless of the moving seats or not.

Movie Review: Finding Dory

How could I say no?

I had come back from one of the more morose travels I had ever experienced and knew I need to go to My Happy Place. However, sometimes, when you live up the road, getting to Disney World is a bit of a production. THere's animals and food and money and gas and time there and back and lines and.....and...

But a movie? How's about a Disney movie?

I wish I could say "spoilers" at some point in this review, but, really, do you not know, by now, what's going to be happening in a Disney/Pixar sequel? If you don't, that's kosher on some level. Pixar does tend to mix in some truly original approaches (80 year olds sword fighting in a balloon? Look at Up/Frat initiation with monsters? Look at Monsters University), and, to some extent, their own original send ups (Tangled is massively creative), but overall, you are aware of their delicious witty timeless commentary, their upbeat understandings, and their positive endings.

Finding Dory fills each of the boxes. But, really, nothing more. Instead of Nemo being lost, it's Dory's history and realizing her failing memory from the first movie is the impetus for a new adventure. So? For some reason, her memory comes back and she decides to find the family she had forgotten about. Cue music.

The sea, however, covered so expansively in the first movie, doesn't hold much more for them to discover, so now the action is moved to an animal rescue facility and the cute characters within. And, just like in every Pixar movie, stars line up to say their three lines and get on the marquee. But unlike usual padding of resumes, there's something to be said about the scripting. Yes, this is a rehash, but there's still some fun things going on. And it's always a good idea to get in on the fun. That's what these stars are doing.

Outstanding is Ed O'Neill, of Modern Family and Married with Children fame, as another curmedgoen, this time, in the color changing octopus named Hank. His character is fully fledged with fears and concerns and it plays well with the optimist that is Dory. All cool things? Dory's memory concerns are treated like a learning disability and I appreciated it. It showed the stress the parents were under and the ways they addressed it. If felt this added a heart to a supporting character. Ellen's protrayal was as a comedic relief, a supporting character in the first movie. Such a decision made sense when moving her to a protagonist.

Where the movie fails? Well, animations run on the edge of our reality or fully in another reality. That's the glory of it. A glimpse into a world that isn't as visible to us. The toys in Toy Story are still bound by the realities of our own; and, in the original Finding Nemo, the same thing applied. However, here? The interactions between humans and the fish go a bit extreme in that department, especially in an overlong third act, where they steal a truck (!).

Fact was, however, since I had been on the journey for so long, I didn't truly mind. And kids won't care. But? Still? I wish they had held to their usual high expectations for themselves all the way through. By that point, you could see the Pixar heads' aggravation with Disney treating them like a cash cow. You could hear them saying, "fine, you want a sequel? Dang...here's YOUR BLOODY SEQUEL! Now shut it while we make more of the movies we want to see!!!!"

That being the case? Yeah, a good movie. Not a great one, by any sense. Not the deep artwork we saw before, just a joyous engagement. Watch if you want, but don't worry, you're not missing canon or anything.

Why I Left

The kids were screaming.

So was my soul.

I know, I know, so dramatic, isn't it? I'm so dramatic. Even I know when too much is too much.

But it works.

I had not been on a ruder flight to Colorado, since, of course, the last flight to Colorado. It made sense. A terrific, maybe a not so terrific, excessively hot vacation had come to a close. The kids, stuck waiting on line to meet Mickey McCheese and now they were stuck on a plane with various boring adults. No wifi (which sucks moosedick, dear Frontier), no more cool hats or sugar options. They ran up and down the aisles or stared at whomever, making sure that their various targets would hate every child in existence. The adults were just as bad, but I think that they weren't tourists, unless they were grandparents. Instead, their prostates sang in unison, so that when the seatbelt light went out and we evened out, they formed a queue at the lavatories.

Just like every other attraction in Florida.

Yeah, I was annoyed. I was annoyed that my family would not come back to Florida and I, instead, had to fly to Colorado to see them. So, even if the flight was filled with gold and free coffee (another reason to hate Frontier, the fuckers, you had to pay for coffee), I probably would have found something wrong.

That's me, all angsty-like.

I had to return home. Dad was sick, mother, well, she was always ailing with something, but now? She needed an oxygen tank to get around-or, as the world of the theater calls it-props. She needed props to keep the show going. So wasn't moving.

When Mohammed couldn't make it to the mountain, the mountain came to Mohammed, no?

So I flew out. It'd been a decent four years since my last return and I felt in necessary, no matter how much this queen protested. Family is family, after all. And, no matter how much they work on me trying to develop a hatred for them, I still loved them.

Liking them, well, that was a different story.

But as I flew and got a shitload of reading done (probably why I'm in such a mood to write), I thought that, maybe, just maybe, I should put down why I finally gave up the ghost and moved to Florida. I noticed, in casual conversations, I give so many reasons as to why, I realized I probably should put it down some where. I think, too, that the reasons I left my homeland multiplied as the years passed, and I realized the hold my wonderful misery had on me. I'm from an ethnic family. Misery and suffering is pretty much omnipresent. As I suffered out in the snows of Pikes Peak, it did not occur to me that I was suffering, I thought it was what I was supposed to do.

Here's the thing. A good portion of this particular trip involved planning for the end of life of my parents. Not because they are dying, they're not. They are acting as if they are, but that's nothing particularly new. But I realized that I'm STILL holding on to the pain that I had there in Colorado. I don't want to die with that feeling.

I'm pulling a let-it-go moment. This is it. I've started this list before. Time to bring it to a close.

And sing Disney tunes.

I had long heard of "burnout." They actually have lessons and workshops on it when your undergrad. When you are an idealist and young and think that nothing can happen to you. I had been at my job teaching at the school for the deaf for a decent twenty years when they hired the only applicant for a principal. Now, think about that. The only applicant. Deaf schools are vital to the Deaf community. They are place where Deaf Culture thrives and sign language is internalized and grown.

But they only had on applicant. And since they didn't have a principal, they hired the first person who applied.

She didn't last. The school had been there for over 100 years. That mean many of the things they did there had been set in stone. Technology was a struggle. Many of the teachers were about to retire, which meant that a newer, younger staff was about to take the reigns. And the school, desparate and afraid of losing the budget from the government grabbed the first person who came along. She was great, actually, but she was not ready for what was before her. She didn't last and the newer teachers, were unable to step up to fill the gap.

Hiring had to come from within. I was offered the position, but, in all honesty, I'm no administrator. I don't like telling people what to do, and, frankly, your job would be mostly calling parents to talk about issues. I was not young, like most of the pregnant staff (I shit you not and that is not a sexist statement...we hired 12 young women who were preggers within their first 6 months of the job....a crisis was looming), nor was I ready for retirement.

They asked, as they looked for a new principal, if I would fill in in the afternoons while the super took up the mornings?

No extra pay, but a crapload of street cred. It'd only be a week or two.

Sounds good.

4 months passed. I had to help with everything, since the superintendent was in another building and didn't know half of the staff or the students beneath them. I had to interview possible new hires. The ones who were Deaf did not have degrees or experience in anything. The ones who had experience could not sign, knew nothing of the culture to begin with.

And my brain started to frazzle. I started staying at the school until 8 or 9 at night and had to come in on Sundays to do lesson plans-since our population kept increasing. Deaf students were failing the state-mandated tests. So? Schools, afraid of the special education students bringing their scores downwards, would ship them to the state school.

A place that had been failing their state tests for pretty much the same reason.

And the super was already yelling at the staff to get the kids to pass. Kids with a 1st grade reading level.

The flames had begun. I began to burnout. Vacations taken were filled with sickness as my body was so plagued during the week. Yes, I eventually moved my coworker into the position and shared her office (all the while, teaching English) and had to get her up to speed.

For no extra cash.

I quit the job the next year. And everyone was surprised for some reason. I guess that meant I did a good job, but not once was I thanked, not once was a kudo handed my way. The job, my FIRST teaching position ever, had been soiled by items out of everyone's control.

I remember the last school play I did not direct, my first time in 20 years. A young lady (not pregnant...yet) had taken the reigns with her performing arts degree. She had special effects, movies, it was incredible. I remember trying to get the same things for years, but I would ahve to sew the costumes, alone, in the basement; I had to build the sets because the vocational classes and the maintence crew was too busy to do so.

Yet I had installed a young blonde and, funny, she got the men to work for her. Go figure.

It was time to leave. THe place was in good hands.

I took the job for teaching the deaf in the public realm, and set up a mainstream program with my colleagues still at the Deaf school.

My first meeting at the new job ended at 5. Union rules. I went home and made dinner. And saw a movie, midweek, with my husOtter.

If such a change could lower my heart rate, it was time to start doing things for my own sake.

I took the job at the Deaf school because that's what I wanted. But it was my first job and it really defined me. Without much experience, I didn't realize that there was a whole different culture in public schools. I was seen, suddenly, as an equal. My meetings came to an end. I wasn't working from item to item.

I could teach.

It was time to leave and see what else was out there.

I am more grateful than this article elaborates, believe me. But yes, those classes about burnout had suddenly struck my brain like a match.

And I was on fire.

In the fall of 2007, my grandfather, a great man, passed away. He had said, in my last deep meeting with him, upon meeting my husOtter, "you know, he could be part of our family, too, with him living with us." He got it. In his own way, his history would not let him say with confidence but his dying heart knew, his grandson was happy and living with someone. As we placed him into time itself, I realized that man had done everything from the same seat in his house for eons. My father was born in the house that my grandfather would eventually die in. All my aunts and uncles.

But they had moved on. We had. But he had stayed. He never saw Paris, never could afford it. Maybe he didn't want to, and that's alright too.

With his deepening connection in those final days and hours, I saw more of him and me and realized that, even though he passed away happy, knowing he had communicated his wishes for eternity.

Suddenly, my fate came into a bit of a clearer focus. Would it be alright if I passed away in the hosue I was in now? Would it be okay to move onto the Secret Worlds without never seeing Paris?

Yes, I'd be fine.

And that kind of confidence defined him. And it defined me.

So? I wanted to move to Florida. Why was I waiting? You know the cliche. What would you do if you knew you'd not fail? Move on and try a different life.

I did. I wanted to be like my grandfather. I wanted to be confident into my last days. And such a risk was a rare and alien thing.

I left Colorado with him in mind. He never got to Florida as it was. I was to take him there, then.

Speaking of passing, I had to head back. It was a last minute thing, my own stepDad was not doing well.

Guess what happened when I posted about heading back on social media?

Nothing. Only two people even noticed.

Fancy that. Now, that's not directly attached to my grandfather, but it is the environment I had no realized I left, until, of course, I left. Wealthy barons of all sorts pander to the Colorado territory and, to some extent, it's why shootings tend to happen there. People just feel entitled.

And when I announced this recent visit, people were like, "great, you should come back."

Not, "who/what/where/when."

Only two found a reason to put down their various hookahs and call in their private choppers for a visit. Okay, that was mean...but funny.

Two. I lived there for my whole life. Two. People who tell me I'm wrong on social media. Just two. We all want a standing ovation. People are busy. It typified what I'd been up against my entire life. A culture of entitlement that I had not expected and was part of, sadly. And when I left? It became more and more apparent.

Like the lady screaming that at the gate attendant that she was in Zone One for her flight's seating and, ergo, should step ahead, after all, she had 5 children.

The lady at the nail shop arguing I needed a full back massage for 59 extra dollars.

Fuck you. No, I don't. I need a foot massage and some cookies.

My own mother made very similar observations, I recall, when we visited New York to see members of her family.

I guess, in the end, you can't go home again. And, since home is where you heart is, I guess my heart was not into it.

So? I left then and I'm still happy I left, now. What is it they say? People tend to pay more attention to critical reviews AFTER they've consumed something. Go figure. I'm thinking that's what happened here. I didn't realize how yucky things were until long after the fact.

So? I left.