Movie Review: The Mummy

My poor husOtter. He tried, when we first started dating all those moons ago, to see what made me tick. I found paperback copies of Frankenstein and Dracula scattered under his coffee table and end table, all the pages shortly dog-ear-ed. He'd apologize, and admit, eventually, that I would have to see my horror movies alone. He'd ride the Haunted Mansion, but a walk-through house was too much.

Horror, as it seems, is a very personal and distinct experience. We all have those things that scare us to immobility; we also have those things we allow. My mother? She LOVED Hitchcock movies. When I would come home from the video store in high school on a Saturday night, they were all that was left that the rabble did not wish to see. She and I would watch bevies of those thrillers. Bring home Friday the 13th? Halloween? No. But Fatal Attraction was a standout. She had what was safe scary, what she could digest. And that which was unacceptable.

Even I do. I believe, for my tastes, that horror should be a personal experience. Regardless of the body count, the settings should be dark, intimate, alone, and isolated. There's a sense of impending doom, a sense that there's a chance we will not get out alive.

My checkbook, for many years, was the Universal monsters. Yeap. All those classic baddies. Drac. Frank. Creature from the Black Lagoon. I LOVED them. I played Dungeons & Dragons as a player-character, but when it came to Dungeon Mastering? We played, "Chill." The horror role-playing game. In it, my friends took part in a secret society bent on removing evil and monsters and specters from the Earth.

I love it.

But, because I write it? I should be able to look at it with a decent discerning eye. I, for one, was actually okay with the recent announcement of Dark Universe from the execs from Universal. They've always had the lid on big screen movies, surely, but also they have been able to keep all of the top famous monsters in the game. Dracula, Frankenstein's Monster, the Werewolf-all are pretty much public domain, but every few years, they crank out another clunker to keep an eye on the IP. With Dark Universe? They were hoping to do what Disney has done with Marvel. What is that, like, 17 titles that are some how interwoven?

Follow the example, too. Keep lite, keep it moving, have simple and direct logic, let the story carry itself.

The first title out of the gate?

The Mummy.

Now, this is a difficult one to beat. See, they re-made it, in glorious 1930's caper format, back in the later 90s and it was a terrific tribute to the older horror movies. I'm sure you saw it. It was fun. During the depression, the exotic was fearsome, so it made sense that a monster would come from overseas. The remake held to that. It had pyramids and secret codes and growing menace. There were jumps and screams, and, yes, everyone looked like they were having fun.  That remake? That was a good movie. It was even scary in parts. I mean, they took the girl! She could die!

Now? They bring it back. There was that hope that maybe it was good. I like the idea of Dark Universe, but, hey, I read comic book serials, so I'm kosher with it with crossover after crossover. Let's do this, right?

But this? I'm not sure, totally, what happened. The acting? Good. The set pieces? Strong. Music's there, special effects? Bright and easy.

The fault? Story.

Again, look at me, I'm going for the writing thing again. You can't have everything perfect and have a shit tale to tell.

In the first thirty minutes, we subjected to three different flashbacks. Flashbacks that are brought up, again, 30 minutes later, adding no additional information. The story concerns two military men who branch out (how, exactly does that happen-the term court martial comes to mind. Even the CO says, "why do I let you get away with this AGAIN..." Again?????) and go fortune hunting. They get themselves in a quagmire and call in a drone strike (okay, how does that happen?), and unearth the evil within. An Egyptian princess, punished to mummification forever, her soul stuck between the Worlds.

The soldier?

Tom Cruise.

Now? Hold for a second. That name conjured up an image in your head of him. Probably running and yelling. His last seven titles have used this technique.  Running. Yelling. Taking command. Running. Yelling.  I am still stymied on how this dude is so famous. Yes. He is talented. But with replaying roles over and over again, the shine is wearing off.

And in this tale, he's no different. In fact, the script just makes him argue everything. They make it sound like all he wants is money, so when the tale gives him it, he suddenly grows a moral code.

And, and, and....I'm whining. I think I'm hurt. I wanted this movie to be better.

Even a better Tom Cruise movie.

An archaeologist, only we can't say that, because you'll think Indiana Jones, shows up (in the middle of a war zone....with GREAT hair and a perfect forehead) and they had a one night stand. He stole her notes to find this tomb. Wait. So, he goes out. Meets a nice girl. In downtown, where? Bahgdad? I didn't know they had reopened the singles cafe again. Not only that, they have their meet-and-greet, and he rummages through her stuff, stealing a detailed map.  In the digital age.

Doesn't the military have a purpose overseas? I guess it's to support Tom Cruise.

Played by Annabelle Wallis, she's not a good Tom Cruise woman character, either. I have consistently noticed, especially in the Mission: Impossible Cruise vehicles, women are afforded great roles by him and his studios. Here? She just stands there and acts surprised. Yes, she even becomes a victim. Three different times.

But, you know, Tom is there to save her. And others!

Russell Crowe plays Dr. Henry Jekyll (yes, THAT one) and seems to be the only one having fun with the role. Not a normal character of tradition horror, his storyline is brief and entertaining-but ultimately, just a review and clarification of the plot put forth. Seems they've set this princess loose and she's undead, a mummy. She cannot move on to the heaven, hell, or whatever. Her immortality is to give her a chance to find the perfect male, a specimen that the god of death can inhabit.

Now, you know, of course, who that is going to be, right?

Those that die? Have to die in honor of the plot. There are brief sparks of horror tropes of zombies. But we've seen that. We have a huge attack on London. Not private scary moments in alleyways. Not jolting moments. AN ENTIRE CITY. And yet, no one is freaking out.

So much for intimate, I suppose. I don't care for the characters, outside of Jekyll and the Mummy, herself. So they could all die, and I'd be okay.

Not a single sense of peril.

And that's not horror. That's not scary. In fact, one character, dies, comes back as some kind of monitor or something, but none of the others do.

Such threads lead to a very poor opening for something that is supposed to be part of a franchise.

Is the movie good? Maybe. Not as a horror movie. As Mission: Impossible Lite, perhaps. When your story crashes from the get-go, there's not much else to go on.

If at all, Universal to look to what works well in franchises that have stayed the course. Bond films are consistently engaging and trying new things, with mixed results, but arcing segments. Disney? They have this to a cash cow. They just tell the director they should kowtow the producer and the story and keep everything slight. Warner Bros has recently learned this with mediocre hits of Watchmen and Batman/Dark Knight. They tried to keep that artsy-fartsy feel, but, as soon as they let the story unfold, you have a hit, like Wonder Woman. It can be done.

If they want it to.

See, like here, we have the Invisible Man coming up with Johnny Depp. Perfect. A series of murders without a single suspect on camera. Link the homicide. Media picks up the lurid tale and the lead detective is attacked, but escapes with the help of Dr. Jekyll's society. Seems they are looking for the same phantom. An Invisible Man.  Someone the Feds would LOVE to get their hands on. Tight corners. Seemingly a ghost in old homes, hidden from view, where people wouldn't look for scientist hiding and making more of his mysterious elixir.

It can be done. But keep the tone focused. Scare us. Don't make it big. Keep it small.

Movie Review: Wonder Woman

When Caitlyn Jenner came out, I congratulated her. Same with Michael Sam. And, every time, people responded positively. It is a good thing. I was once that gay kid who wondered if there were others. I couldn't see them in media, I had no idea. And that loneliness was lethal. Truly, lethal. I just needed a reason to know that I was not going to be a fat, ugly kid, a pariah forever, and I might as well end it now. It's not like my family could help (I would later learn that they would, but that's not what we're looking at, here). So, even if I didn't have a direct relationship with the famous, if they could do it, if they could voice their experiences and I could see the parallels, I had hope.

What was it my buddy, Harvey Milk said," You gotta give them hope."  With each famous individual coming out, hope grew. With ever gay cinema character, hope grew. With every recognition that didn't end up in death, hope grew.

In a world where white straight male privilege is becoming more and more obvious and the Old Guard is so resistant to that change, now, more than anything, visibility, especially in a universe with instant access, is becoming even more and more dire. I don't know how many of my friends, good people, smart people, made comments when I would congratulate another person coming out, would say things, like, "aren't we beyond this? We don't need to acknowledge that any more."

Yes, we are. We are beyond this.

'Cause I have smart friends.

But the world? That's a very different place. People, as a whole, are a much larger mixed bag of responses. They aren't so forgiving. They know racism is bad. Sexism is bad. But they have not, for whatever reason, accepted that things like feminism and civil equality are good. Racism still profoundly, exists. Sexism and homophobia STILL exist, even with so much evidence otherwise. I cannot figure it out.

So I turn back to the kids of today. They need to see equality.

Movies, as a whole, do try, I do believe that. From the "Oscars so white," Hollywood realized they needed to address their approach. Do they succeed? Not always. But there was an attempt, as the reddit users might say.

But the movie theaters still aim for those white male film goers, never really realizing that, well, if you make a good movie, it doesn't matter the demographic, really. Look at Titanic. If ever there was an example of women making the cinematic decision making process, there you go.

And yet? No other Titanic like movies. There were some clones-but all of them kinda sucked.

I'm also struck by the movie Brokeback Mountain, one of those rare titles that was both critically acclaimed AND made a crapton of dough. When the husOtter and I went to see it that Saturday night, the movie was PACKED. Not only that, it was packed with....cowboys. Now, I'm not joshing you with the Village People cowboys. It was evident as we stood there by the concessions, these men and women were from the Front Range, no more than thirty minutes from the theater on the outskirts of town. Their demeanor? Decidedly rural. But they watched the movie in silence. No catcalls. No shudders about the content. In fact, they spoke up about the realities of the film, we noticed, about rustling and getting herds converged.  See? You can never really count on the demographic.  All people go see all movies. That's why we need more good movies; that's why we need to cross all lines.

Please note: I am no innocent. I did, just now, possibly stereotype a group of people with my expectation. That is what's wrong.  We ALL need to work on this. Yes, even me.

Which brings us to this weekend's blockbuster.

Wonder Woman. Important in the comic book world but, also, important in the representation of women in a society that likes Superman and Batman, both literally and figuratively. I cannot really report on her comic book heritage, as it wasn't a title I frequented. But, strangely, I understood her in the pantheon of heroes that make our common culture. She was every bit in the equal of Superman and Batman. In fact, she was one to bare her face to the world, not a secretive creature like Bruce Wayne or Clark Kent.

It's interesting in that I bring up Superman. As I watched this movie, I was transported to that time I saw Christopher Reeve fly back in the 70s. Upon repeated viewings of that original titel, the movie is mostly good, holding up against time. But, as a child, my heart soared as much as the man in the red cape.

There's something of that childhood joyfulness here, too. The story is pure, novel for many, and has an ethereal quality.  There's a sense of hope, played by Gal Gadot's Princess Diana.  She carries with her a specific weight and, given the potent and clear choices made by Patty Jenkins, it's evident on the screen.  We have ethnic characters that aren't stereotypes. A Native American is a strange shaman type, he even gets along with the other characters and not regulated to the side. We have violence that comes with guilt by the protagonist when she commits them, her heartbreak that when she saves the day, the fighting does continue. The only nudity is male (take THAT! white boys! See? Didn't like it, did you?)   All the tropes dissolve completely under our audience's eyes, and in that, comes a welcome picture. There are action sequences, and yes, there is violence, but that's something to be said about bringing a new shine to old proceedings.

Now, I am lucky. In high school, I was addicted to Hong Kong Action Cinema, of which, women play a frequent strong role in many martial arts films. I mean, Michelle Yeoh, anyone? So, to some extent, this is what I was expecting. Ass-kicking with the usual aplomb.

We get that.

But we also get an origin story, much like Krypton, a home island named Themyscaria, instead of planet, and someone bred to be a hero-to the point that she cannot seem to be happy without action. This is an usual trait. I see it with Captain America too. Someone who cannot find themselves unless they are actively doing something. Wonder Woman smiles during the action progression. This is-unique. She's is fulfilling her destiny, as the tale unfolds, as she is supposed to be given the role of "god-killer." In this sense, the god in question is Ares, the Greek purveyor of war.

In fact, in this entire parable, her final duel with the super villain actually falls a bit short of the story that went beforehand. I'm used to big battle scenes, heck, if they are evenly matched, it should take forever. But, the excellent writing gives us two powerful individuals who have no way of giving to the other side, so we get a series of blasts that seemingly come out of no where.

It doesn't work.

But, by that point, we don't really care.

With 95% of the movie rolling along at a decent clip, such missteps are dissolved quickly in light of what went before.

In that way, I'm recommending the tale. It is epic, exciting, and has enough visual bluster that it is worthwhile on the big screen. In fact, it even goes on to prove something I have noticed that the Marvel Universe has already done. It doesn't seek to be an art film. It allows the characters and actions take their lives as their own and goes with it. There's no attempt of dark, gritty style; but, instead, a sense of purpose and journey.

Welcome Wonder Woman. Can you go kick some more butt for us, please?

Movie Review: Pirates of the Caribbean/Dead Men Tell No Tales

Theme parks look like money makers. The crowds, the merchandise, the people willing to pay big bucks to wait in line more than actually doing anything like seeing attractions. They really can cash it in. Since you pay one, always raising, price, you can't wheel and deal and budget. One lump sum into the pockets of various shareholders. Movie makers? On the other hand? Simple. You can rotate your property to digital home services for those who aren't willing to shell out the movie tickets, and maybe make some kind of profit. The theater? That doesn't have to be rebuilt, you just install another movie. And you can play it a few times a day to earn your cash.

Disney, always looking for another way to sell their wares (these people can get the lint out of your pockets, so don't say you weren't warned-and don't worry, I drank the Kool-Aid too, every single fucking time), elected to rebrand their famed attractions at the turn of the century. Taking a page from their own rulebook from back in the 80's, where they found actors and actresses who weren't bringing in the contracts, casting them in quick movies under a new banner, Touchstone pictures, and sending them back out in the wild; elected to take their theme park intellectual properties and make motion pictures. Most were, well, bland. The Haunted Mansion, a popular attraction at every park, has amazing special effects that happen 'live' (for lack of a better term) before your very eyes; Hollywood movies have already done that, so they would have to rely on a story to keep such a film afloat.

It sank. Even with Eddie Murphy, it wasn't very funny. Was it for kids? Was it for adults? Who knows. Disney didn't. But they made it.

They also cobbled together a Country Bears tale which was amusing, but, again, it came off as a Chuck E. Cheese presentation without much creativity. Or country music.

The third creation? Based on one of the last creation from Mr. Disney himself? Pirates of the Caribbean. Here's something. They tried something totally new. They rode the ride out there in Anaheim a few gazillion times and it shows. They came out with a creative tale of cursed treasure, pirates that can't die but want to live again, a love story, cannon-fire, and huge set pieces that came to explosive entertainment on the screen that summer of 2003. The music soared. And a supporting character, played with delicious aplomb by Johnny Depp, stole the show while still chewing the scenery. As Captain Jack Sparrow, technically a minor character who pushes the protagonists into play, he threw his skill into the performance and it was truly incredible. You couldn't wait to see his humorous asides and when he was off screen, you wanted him to come back.

And Johnny did what all good looking and exceptional actors do. He tried to make himself as unloveable as possible. He was drunk, his dreads were visibly aromatic. Yet, his swagger, guy-liner, and demeanor was so saucily three-dimensional, the theater's houses were packed.

Obviously, so much fun could not be contained. The sequels followed.

They were abhorrent messes in plotting, moving Depp's character to the front, a convulsion of too many high paid performers trying to angle their way into a storyline, and were a mess.

But Depp brought us back. We lined up, bought tickets and the movies made Disney more money.

To the point where that fixed asset over at Disney World and Disneyland practically cried to have him shoehorned into the ride because the guests were wondering why he wasn't there. He never was. The movie was based off of the ride, not the other way around.

And Depp, it has been known, loves the character. He'll show up at schools and childrens' hospitals across the world. This, folks, is the glory of fame. To do for others in a way none of us can ever imagine. I have some friends who volunteer cosplay at many of these places and they say it's beauty personified. Depp is no slouch. He loves the character enough to do it again and again for the kiddoes.

So it came as no surprise he'd show up again in a fourth film a few years ago.

But understand, he's a minor character. He's so popular, however, they moved him to the front, as protagonist. It didn't gel, when you watch, regardless of the presence of Depp, Penelope Cruz, and Ian McShane as Blackbeard (with that wonderful purr of a villain's voice).

And tickets were sold.

Heck, even I went.

I am, apparently part of the problem. Unlike Spielberg, content to leave his wonderful ET without a sequel to flog the beast to death for a steady paycheck, Disney brushed off ole Jack Sparrow again for a fifth installment.

And, yes, I found myself going...again. Oy. What was I thinking?

There's a reason, beyond Disney's original Treasure Island all those moons ago, that the pirate as a character hasn't taken off as a genre. Here? In Florida? Sure, there's a crapton of Pirate Fair this and Pirate Week that. But, really, the stereotype of the eyepatched, peglegged vile vagabond is truly not been brought up again and again like superheroes or cowboys.

Disney, with this one title, has made an entire genre.

And then keeps making movies. I was thinking I like Sparrow, I like the way Depp plays Sparrow-but, eventually, soda pop does lose it's savory fizz.

It is the story. The last movie was the least complicated of the bunch. Find the Fountain of Youth (it's supposedly here in Florida, on a sidenote. There's a lot of old people down here continuously looking for it and are really crabby about it). Here? Will Turner's son is looking to free his father from the Curse of the Flying Dutchmen, a ghost ship he was imprisoned in during film three. A young lady, going to be executed for practicing science, is some how obsessed with stars and shipping that she gets pulled into Jack's strangely low orbit. A new sea worth villain played with amazing special effects (again) by Javier Bardem as a Spaniard who cannot die until he destroys all the pirates he can find. And, because Jack, like some kind of magical tanned sea sprite, has links to every-single-character. The story folds in on itself here, there, again, here, over there and, after a while, the audience becomes exhausted in trying to figure out motive or purpose. This causes the images to become just that, images. The meaning is lost, and we begin to not even care about anyone.

Not even hottie Johnny Depp, doing his best to not be hot in any kind of pirate way.

(There is Brenton Thwaites in the Henry Turner role, giving Depp a run of his money in the film good looks department-but here's the thing, he's doing the Anakin bit. Too much whining and soft voiced arguing. At least Depp has presence and experience)

The film is seriously flawed, and, even though the cast is trying as hard as they can, there's just no true inner pacing that keeps it roaring forward. Swashbuckling, it seems, has a shelf-life. Maybe, just maybe, Sparrow should keep to being awesome in his own way-making people feel awesome.

As for Depp, he is a massively underrated actor. His good looks do get in the way, and his own tastes in titles he picks are not always the most popular. That's awesome. I just can't help feeling he is just a few steps away from an Oscar. I don't know why it hasn't happened yet. He was incredible, even without the ability to sing, in Sweeney Todd. Hilarious in both Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas and Black Mass. I liked Charlie and the Chocolate Factory when the world didn't, and he was excellent. Did I say underrated? Maybe that's not the correct word. He's more of an artist than the popular masses can accept. Only Sparrow seems to be the one they accept him as. That's unfortunate.

Because it means there might be more of these complicated Pirate movies.

Folks, just go on the ride. It's much more linear.

Another different kind of Review: Stranger in a Strange Land

First the Handmaid's Tale. A novel approach to, well, a novel-it went ahead and made me think of critiquing something in a different manner.

Such a brave new world, with such people in it.

Now? This.

As you know, I'm kinda into my Disney crap. This blog is not a location for such elaboration, but more of an intro as to where I'm going with this. I was afforded an opportunity this weekend, on Mother's Day, to be exact, to see Disney World's latest "land" over at their Animal Kingdom. This land? This specific locale is based on the famed Avatar and it's setting, the off-planet moon of Pandora. This new land located in the area that used to be housing Camp Minnie-Mickey, a completely failed attempt to fill space that was going to be holding the "legendary beasts" section of the park. They already had real animals. They had extinct animals over in Dinoland. This was going to be the corner of the park that housed dragons and mythical beasts, you know, animals that Never Were. But, Disney, seeing they were already making money, used the excuse that Harry Potter was claimed over at Universal and would be giving similar experiences, just threw some old Lion King parade floats into a warehouse, hired acrobats and dancers (much easier to replace when they break down) and called it a land.

Quick! Duck! One of the sights that was replaced at Pandora.

And there, it languished. The land was fun to see a show in air-conditioning and sell a shitload of character photos, something they must be making a mint over, because they keep offering it.

This show has been moved to the Africa section of the park-and is still going strong. 

But now they decided to do something.

Okay, before I continue, lemme say, there's going to be spoilers, keep that in mind. I'm not going to hold back, here, so, read at your own bloody peril, okay?

But, see, that Harry Potter land, or, now, lands over at Universal? They took business.

It seems people want to see dragons, especially, in droves. And it hurt Disney. It hurt Disney so much that their much ballyhoo'd New Fantasyland didn't even cause a blip on the radar. Disney has ruled this area for so long, they were kicked and shocked that people would cancel two or three days at their Magic Kingdoms to head up the road to see Harry.

Shh, do you think the tourists would notice if we clone a ride from Cali? Nah, what do they know, they're tourists!

Couple that with a looming 50th anniversary that raked in the dough over in California (I would know, I was there), they had to make a decision. They need some major work.  Hollywood Studios is getting Star Wars Land and Toy Story Land. EPCOT is looking at, at least, two rumored new countries.

And Animal Kingdom had this space, that's for sure. It's a great little park. I mean that. I say, 'little' as a nicety. It is physically the largest of the theme parks, with huge spaces for the animals to truly roam. But the park access is actually a bit of a slice of it. Massively forested, it holds a change from the rest of the parks, a feel that is truly unique. It doesn't have the dreams that Magic Kingdom does or the amount of intellectual properties therein; it doesn't have the allure of Hollywood majesty and dreaming that is housed over in Hollywood Studios. EPCOT truly holds it's own and is very similar to Animal Kingdom. In fact, my husOtter adores the place.

Animal Kingdom was built on a spirit of discovery, but, unlike the technology vision of EPCOT, here, there are trails that lead to small paddocks holding this animal or that. Storylines, the bread-and-butter of many Disney attractions, are unique. There is a gorilla enclosure made to look like an animal survey team; a private tiger reserve for a mildly Indian kingship is another location.

But there's no Tomorrowland here, folks.

No look to the future of animals and conservation. No intrusion of a possible Utopian future, like you can see over at Magic Kingdom or EPCOT.

That was their angle. Forget the dragons, how about a planet where conservation was also what they were looking into.

Enter:  Avatar.

I'm not going to lie to y'all. I thought the movie sucked so bad, I could replace my Hoover on the living room carpet. It was devoid of life or originality. The themes were so simple and bold colored, a neon sign would pale in comparison. Characters were written from the back of a Pop Tart box. You can predict every moment in the film. Avatar was the creation of James Cameron, a filmmaker this film critic has mixed emotions about. The dude cranks out money makers for some reason. But, there are some truly great moments, early in his career. Terminator is it's own world and a terrific cross genre horror sci-fi. Aliens bests the movie it is a sequel to. True Lies is wonderfully creative, playing to the strengths of all the performers. But, like Micheal Bay, Cameron's ego takes over and the set pieces take over and, eventually, distract from the original tale. Titanic cuts zero new ground-but everyone loved it and it became the highest grossing film of all time. And, see, this is why I have mixed emotions about him. He, truly, brings the grand scale of the tragedy to detailed life.

And he made Avatar. A movie that earned even more money than Titanic.  He made to be on the big screen, with beautiful 3-D. It's gorgeous. But the story is so bland, I was torn between liking it and wondering why I spent extra money on seeing it in Imax.  The story is about a race of aliens, called the Na'vi, that are at harmony with their planet's, Pandora's, environment.  Twelve feet tall and blue felines, humans cannot walk amoungst them, since the air is lethal.  So 'avatars' are created and humans can control them and fit into their small band and society. But there's still a male dominated society, there's still sexual politics, there're still... us. It was evident that Mr. Cameron did not, at the very least, research indigenous peoples in any manner.  Love magically spawns between two people that cannot be more dissimilar and, yes, his ego shines right through the flat motion picture. It was more like a ride at Disney World than an actual movie.  Filmed in Imax, as mentioned, and 3-D, the images included us in the tale, pulled us in on a level like never before.

So that's a Na'vi. They look like thin people and just as angry.

We had bizarre alien animals floating around our heads, the lights flew out of the screen and into our laps. A digital acid trip.

Which brings us to this review.

There are no Avatar conventions. No one chooses to be a native Na'vi when they cosplay. They don't study the fictional language, like Klingon.

Yes, I'm making broad generalizations. But, truly, think about it and it's place in pop culture.

If you squint, really hard, you might see a Na'vi. Maybe? 

I was surprised when they selected the intellectual property at all. A popular (well, if you look at the cash flow) movie (not critically, me included), licensed it (it is Fox) and just went with it.

Here's the thing.

It works, if only for a bit.

Even with my hardened distaste for the movie, Disney did something with it that even Mr. Cameron couldn't. They made it more interesting. It's much more interesting than the movie, that's for sure. Every optical illusion the movie created? Ever moment of CGI digital amazement?

Created in real time. That jaw dropping concept is right there. See, the planet/moon/whatever, Pandora has lower gravity than Earth. Chunks of the ground float in space.

And they do here, too. In real time.  Real plants blend with bleching, glowing mushrooms, and moving roots.  Tree stumps echo music when you bounce them like a drum. There's a true sense of place.

One of those fabricated plants that does...stuff.

We were given a 3 hour time slice, but really, I noticed we left early.

Because it is, physically very small. It's vertical, reaching to the sky, but it doesn't spread out. The Imagineers have pathways, this way and that, and photographers everywhere, encouraging further photos, but it's small, like Mickey's Birthdayland or their current Circusland back by the train station in Fantasyland.

What brief tale there is, Alpha Centauri Expeditions (ACE) are offering guests eco-tourism to the small moon. Of course, it's a six month stint in a sleep pod, but that part might have been dropped.

It's so small they built only two attractions, one on top of another. The first plays like an introduction to the imagination behind it, called the Na'vi River Journey. The queue is beautiful, a tent like structure, with wicker folk art that looks like smoke and fire. From the tent? Puft. You are in a cave and it's night. No transition, like on Pirates of the Caribbean.  It's a bit jarring. What is also jarring? This is beautiful. That's it. I've heard several complaints, not completely unwarranted, about this. There's no tale to be told, just creative lighting and movement. Strangely, I'm okay with it. I noticed video screens cleverly located throughout the ride, so more story could be added, I suppose, after the sequels finally open. There is a fifth generation audioanimatronic on the ride, but in today's day and age, I don't think everyone really appreciates it. She moves and sings and has a huge range of motion, to the point you begin to wonder if she'll say your name gleaned from your Magic Band ticket. But the lack of a story? Pirates didn't have one when it opened, It's a Small World really doesn't either. I'm okay with it. What is also nice? The boats are only two rows. There's a feeling that this is private and I noticed people speaking in hushed tones.

Someone took time to make this wicker art in the queue at River Journey. And it's beautiful.

The other attraction? The Flights of Passage. At first, like a delicious bottle of Coke, hit me and it was a sugar rush. It's a Soarin' kind of exhibit, a huge screen that flies you out and over the native terrain. It does break some new ground. It's more of a motorcycle seat this time around, not the usual movie seats. There's a small camera, so you can hyperlink to your avatar before riding on one of the dragon-like 'banshees' from the movie. With the new physical placement of the guest, they have added more tactile components. Now you can feel the breathing and heartbeat of the animal you are mounted on, along with the usual tilts and leans. Plus, like Back to the Future and the Simpsons over at Universal, you are broken up into teams of 8 for each experience. That means it feels more like a personal experience, not one that you are sharing with a few hundred sweaty strangers. Lastly, they didn't go the route of some any other attractions, where 'something goes wrong' and the ride's conflict increases. Instead, like the River Journey,  you are just flying through some breathtaking visuals. It was evident, here, too, that the images were digitally projected. That means they can replace the film probably with more elements from the sequel.

More wicker art, this one a flying beast, called a Banshee, heralding the start of the queue.

It also shows a confidence. They are going out on a Disney limb here. I admire that and that sways my opinion more positive than negative. They expanded their culinary talents with creative food that are truly creature comforts presented imaginatively-like Japanese bowls of noodles or Chinese "bao" called pods. Drinks dotted with fruit flavored tapioca balls. A creative 'rookery' where you buy the banshee from earlier in baby (puppet) form and have it perch on your shoulder. You can even get a 3-D printed avatar action figure of, well, yourself.

Bao? Bao.

So, yes, massive creativity.

But we still left early.

And, like that can of Coke, I noticed my sugar rush ran flat the closer I got to the parking lot. The scope is there, but why? There's a sense that this is temporary, that there's more to come. And that leaves a bit of something. The potential is there, yes, but I kept wanting more. I heard that there's even more fun at night, with light up pavement and the flora moving. Maybe? Will that make it?

I don't think it's worth of a solitary trip, however. I don't think this is a game changer, something that will lengthen a person's day at the half-day park. I do think it is a wonderful addition and it is impressive. I'm also curious to see what else they will achieve with further updates.

Movie (?) Review: The Handmaid's Tale

Yeah, I did put a question mark in there. This film, for lack of a better term, rides a very different track that I have to acknowledge before I get down to the review's brass tacks. This particular work appears only on Hulu right now. And I watch it on my television. Only it's not built like a tv show. There's a moment, when you binge watch something on one of these subscription services, where you can see the jet black cutout for a commercial. It was made for and, well, written directly with the concept that there's going to be a commercial. So I know and interpret it as being television. Back in my younger years, when I did summer stock, one of our assignments was to create a soap, to write one of those intricate tales of multiple short scenes. And we were taught, you create from commercial to commercial.

So, even though I was watching this ON my television, it had nothing linked to it being television. In fact, it's episodic nature suggested it could probably be seen as some kind of mini-series.

Fate knows, I loved me some Shogun back in the day. Made me read the book. Couldn't put it down, in fact.

Because it was four thousand bazillion pages.

It's important that link this to the book, that book. See, there's something I've noticed, and maybe I've mentioned it here over time.

See, this particular, I don't know, event-movie, is based on a book that raised in relevancy since the erection of 45. Dystopian novels have made a surge lately. Now, I've noticed that, whenever we have a Flat Earth Society Member in charge, and, yes, I'm looking at you 80s, dystopian tales are back in vogue.

1984.

Blade Runner.

Cyberpunk.

The Giver 

Yeah, sure, Dems have movies too (zombie movies...think faceless masses that follow without thinking...wait, that sounds like the GOP too). But I'd like to focus on this aspect. Books. Now, common thought is that the "book was better."

That's usually correct.

It makes sense. Pages of prose elaborate the story so that the reader's journey is eased into the theme with more detail and length. We get it a bit easier. Movies? Not so much. You have dialogue and images. All of it live, before a camera. Severely limiting. However, such a boundary gives the filmmaker a new source of creativity-a way of communicating chosen thematic elements to a movie bound audience.

I, for one, am okay with this. Totally okay. Dances with Wolves is a boring, shit of a journal with scribbled images. Then? The movie gave us those open vistas the protagonist was experiencing. Gone With the Wind? That racist tome? The edges were honed off and the story shone a bit a brighter in the new light.  

But let's cut to the television, shall we?

Steve King's Salem's Lot, directed by Tobe Hooper-for television.

SCARED THE SHIT OUT OF ME.

Shogun? Huge book. Huge series. But every storyline was captured and we were able to follow.

The elaboration all ties together, so if you're still with me, here it goes.

The Handmaid's Tale, by Margaret Atwood, is excellent. And, in part, because the format it is in really enriches it.  Currently playing over there on Hulu, they've retooled some aspects, using cell phones and a bit more modern tech, and then showing it being shunned by the Church Elite. Now, in case you are not aware, the book is about a world slightly in the future, where women have finally lost all rights to their bodies. A viral infection is suggested, affecting fertility in the human race and woman are unable to conceive. It's a horrible alternative future, but a possible situation if womens' rights to their bodies are still contested into the next few decades. In this story, abortions are made illegal and any vision of sex as for anything but child creation is criminal. Any sex outside of marriage is seen as rape and men are scratched to death. A new, faith based, theocracy arises and those who don't worship are seen as subversives and punished.

The book is a page turner as it follows one such woman, who is able to have children, so she's enslaved to a wealthy family. She dreams of her past life and only wishes for escape to find the children who were taken away from her. She's labelled a "handmaiden," and forced to work for the upper 1%.

See? Kinda timely as 45 gives us a tax plan that only benefits himself and those who are wealthy.

All the while using the church's pews as his voting base.

Art reflecting life?

The book had already been made into a movie, but, in this case, given the gift of horrible timing, the story can thrive. And especially in this format. Now we can see women and their suffered glances and muffled thoughts, not in a five minute monologue on a cinema screen, but, instead, in the intimate confines of our private homes. Here is where the message is successful.

And what a presentation. As media tries to grow in this new Information Age, this new piecemeal approach is the way of the future. We are basically paying to avoid commercials. But we get something from it. A strong narrative that isn't hung up on advertising and putting Coke cans in the background. The source material is respected and given the beats it needs to help the audience grow in compassion for these young women who are not allowed to think or act for themselves. I like the movie.

If that's what we want to call it. It's well presented, well acted, slickly edited, and, yes, massively timely.

The only thing I see as a drawback? Sometimes a series becomes uneven. It's the nature of the beast. Just some points of a tale are more poignant than others, and, when different directors are involved, there are slight tone changes.

Watch this movie/serial/Hulu thingie. It's good. And it's important.

Something I was asked to think about

You know those stupid surveys people fill out on social media? Like, "what size do you like your bread buttered on?" and "what was the last cadaver you dated?"

I love them.

I really do.

I think they are a mirror into the soul, a moment that someone who is not really a talker, can be given an opportunity to just be honest. Every single answer deserves something longer, something thicker, but if you want a two word answer, that, too, can be put into play.

Like this one!

A dear friend, recently under a smattering of stressors posited a decent question of one these questionnaires and I had begun to answer it. But then my impulse led to deep thought and I started looping and looping. The question got bigger and bigger and...

...now we're blogging.

The question:

"What are five movies, and only five, that a person born after 2000 BCE should see?"

No more or further elaboration.

You're asking a cineast to decide this? Okay, okay, okay.

It's been a week.

I elected to, in my own brain's way, put up some barriers to help me decide on what five films would teach a youth about the decades before they existed. I know, and I hope those millennials would too, that movies are fiction and are hyper reality of a time. Idealism abounds. The 50s had a shitload of crime, but most of the time, it was swept under the rug and pop music and drive in movies abounded. The 60s were a time of youthful upheaval, but not everyone was doing the amount of drugs that film portrays.

Now, to further my boundaries, I elected to give fair shake to each decade. Not necessarily a movie FROM that decade, but that might illustrate a time gone by.

I'm reminded of watching the famed horror flick, "Cujo" recently. The entire movie would have been over in about 5 minutes if Dee Wallace Stone had a cell phone with a decent charge going. But the movie takes place in the 80s. An entire decade stuck in cars while there were beasts circling. A moment in time that no one realized.

So? I found five.

Hairspray (the musical version) a movie that hits the highlights of a decade with a light touch but much deeper themes. I had imagined "Grease" might also work, but the more I thought about the time period they were representing, and the 50s up there was a bit too lily white. There was some deep, deep issues going on 50s, but white priveldge didn't let the world know. Integration was underway in many American cities and the stress was visible-but popular culture, run by the Caucasian exes in entertainment, used media to lock in their views. This musical is a great way to see that strange, weird time and how it brought about change by merely existing-everything was going to explode eventually.

Plus, believe it or not, it's a great musical. Fuck. I mean it had Jon Travolta in drag.

The Graduate-to represent the 60s, I thought about mentioning M.A.S.H., an incredible film about the stupidity of war, just like Catch 22. However, M.A.S.H., bolstered by superior performers on television, was much better there. And Catch 22 was incredible filmmaking about the same issues, to some extent, but the book ruled.

There's something thematic about the movie that truly encapsulates the angst of youth in a scant two hours. You have the youth, just graduated and without purpose. Doing what the generation did prior and realizing, quickly, the previous generation is clueless to the realities of the 60's. The youth played brilliantly by a very young Dustin Hoffman, slowly finds that money is not the goal in life, love. Only that is a perilous path, as he begins a brief affair with his neighbor's wife-and sees, also, how barren and cold the generation before him is. It's an amazing picture. There's a brevity to it, an approach which widens the title to a much larger audience, but the undercurrents that young people that very day were experiencing where right there, too.

Taxi Driver-Take what you had in the 60s and let it run loose. Let the promisciousness that was suggested, a rising drug culture, and a profound sense of angst that was never resolved with the free-wheeling 60s and you arrive at Taxi Driver. Martin Scorsese had not defined his style yet, but it's still there, leaking onto the screen. A listless taxi drive, unable to cope with the depravity of the world around him revolts, violently. With the incredible talents of Robert DeNiro, the movie is stark and dreary, but the feelings are true. He was told, if he did right, worked hard, that society would pay him back with money and life.

Obviously, the dream was broken.

The piece becomes even more profound with the case of America at this very moment. Where people in one particular party still seems to believe that if you work hard, you can rise above poverty and glut. Alas, that is not the case. And, in America, where guns are so much around, the response, encouraged by the politicians, is violence. And Travis Bickle, the driver, does exactly that.

It's not pretty. But it is a fascinating study. A moment in time, captured like lightening in a bottle.

Do the Right Thing When AFI started releasing their self-aggrandizing lists of this famous part of the movie or that, their very first list was about the best American movies, ever.

It was a disgrace. Like so many Oscars over the years, it was so white, sheet ghosts would cover their eyes. Alas, the movies they did pick were very, very good, defining the world of cinema, but it also painted a picture that was not totally representative of the audiences that went to these movies. Every white male protagonists jumped onto that screen. Even the one ethnically diverse title, "Guess Who's Coming to Dinner?" A film about interracial marriage, was focused on it's white stars.

A great movie.

But this movie was left off the list. With Do the Right Thing, a young college filmmaker, Spike Lee, brought the world with him to see the world though his eyes. In the film, a young black New Yorker, on the hottest day of the year, notices that the local pizza joint doesn't have a single black person on the wall, only Italian Americans. As the day progresses, a series of events escalates racial tensions and this becomes the target for a horrible surge of violence.

In the middle of it, was the simpliest solutions. All he had to do is hang a small picture and say, "honorary Italian." And he could have gathered the respect of the community he was catering too.

Alas, this 80s movie showed something daring and different. The voice of a minority filmmaker. The ongoing tensions over race that, actually, can be quite simply overcome by just recognizing each other as whole people. There's a brisk pace to the title, carrying it beyond it's serious subject, and I find that it really does capture those late 80s. That there was a problem, a lack of respect going on with several fronts.

An issue that could be so solved if we all just made an effort to get along.


Fight Club:  I love my stuff. And, through reading and meditation, I'm learning to keep my loves focused. TO not want money or the big items, but know that my husOtter and corgis are all worth the effort. Make just enough to put decent food on the table, but nothing beyond that.

But, during the 90s? Well, let me put it to you this way-how do you get a democrat elected for a second term? You make sure that everyone is getting money. Watch soulless Republican bigots suddenly vote when their coffers are full! The Religious Right even turned a cheek when Clinton was found having relations with his employees, cause, well, they could keep their Lexus.

That was was the 90s. Nothing so two faced as it was. All the assholes were suddenly playing nice to the nice and back and forth.

And this movie mimicked it with abandon. Here was the very nice, unnamed, Narrator, who seeks solace and cannot, for the life of him, figure out why he is so unhappy with all the wonderful things around him. He joins support group after support group in a grimly, darkly comedic romp and finds a woman with something similar. And, on a particularly fateful flight, he bumps into the ruggedly handsome soap salesman, Tyler Durden.

They fight. Physically and repeatedly. People watch and start their own fight clubs, where they just-fight. And through that, experience a kind of catharsis. These groups come to realize that, given nothing by society, their rage cannot be contained.

There's a delicious twist to all of this, but you'd have to just watch.

Now there's more I'd love to elaborate on, here, but the fact is, they asked for five. These are they. The 00's aren't represented, but shouldn't be, really. Understand, too, these are not my favorite movies, just the ones that captured their decade in a very specific moment.

Movie Review: When I have to chew on my own tasty words, or, better, why writers matters

Social media. Can kill a person, ya know?

Cause I said something stupid there.

Seems I pointed out my aggravations about one of those stupid, insipid "Thank You for Coming to the Movies." I cannot remember what I wrote, exactly, but it was along the lines of, "if you actually made original content, maybe more blokes would buy fucking tickets, oy!"

The takedown was obvious, but I was too melonheaded to see the sucker punch. It was, basically, "why would I take my family of four to some shitty movies that I don't know will be worthwhile or not."

I think I retorted, "fucking read," but I deleted it.

But they were right, technically. Why would you? I started to put tartar sauce over my adverbs and began to think how to pepper my nouns for the luncheon of my own verbal spasms. Movies are, technically a crapshoot, and I had forgotten that. It's easy for me to whine and demand original content. I have only me and the husOtter to splurge on the large popcorn. But I also love the fucking movies. I read about them, stare at their websites, update myself on EW and TMZ.

But others? An open weekend? They may only know if a movie is animated.

And that's it.

Which brings me to this movie review. We treated ourselves to A Star Wars Story: Rogue One this past Chrsitmaskkah eve.

And it was glorious. I know the Star Wars, the first original trilogy, pretty well. I would splurge watching it every Sunday, when I had to run the vacuum or clean the aisles, at the video store I worked in during high school. I knew Darth Vader was Luke's father, I knew that many Rebel spies had died to get those plans to the Rebellion.

But what a different track each prequel would take.

See, Lucas, in desperate need for a new house, went ahead and gave us some pretty nifty prequels in the previous decade. I will tell you this, they looked beautiful. And, not only that, they were entertaining. But, really, I knew what was going to happen. Seriously. Anakin was going to become Darth Vader if his modeling career didn't come first and he could stop whining. Natalie Portman was just doing it for the residual paychecks, so she could make serious fare.

You better WERK! WERK IT, GRRL!

It's like when a car gets hit on the train tracks. You had to see this coming from a mile away! Why did  you drive onto the tracks!  How could you not have known what was going to happen in these prequel titles, either? Lucas showed us the outcome, and then the income.

Nothing lasted, thematically, in these prequels. It was like a very small cookie. Tasted great for a bite. Then, well, buy it on DVD or something.

Then? Then there was Star Wars: Rogue One.

See, Disney took over the franchise and they are into having just as many houses as dear Mr. Lucas. But they also know that fanboys like me can light up the blogosphere with a bit of a Twitter. So? What does the House of the Mouse do?

Contracts out. They go find young writers, directors, and newbies and give them a budget that makes them wet their pants and behave really, really well. And, by removing the great PooBah of Lucas, Disney gets something else. Someone who isn't close to the work and can see it with a clear and original and creative eyeball.

Rogue One is that piece.

See, with the other prequels? I knew. I read the tea leaves and the palmistry. In fact, I remember getting up to get food and go have a smoke....twice during Attack of the Clones. And I didn't ask what I had missed when I returned.

Writers matter. Those prequels did not have an author. They had a wunderkind.

These screenwriters for Rogue One, Chris Weitz, Tony Gilroy, John Knoll, and Gary Whitta took a story you THINK you'll predict and gave it an edge. They had enough mythos tucked away so that fanboys like myself (Yes, I watched Clone Wars and Rebels, also complete and original outings no where near Lucas' fickle typing fingers) would feel we're part of a larger universe, but newcomers and non-fans can see an old fashioned space opera with spaceships and laser blasts.

In this title, we have the story of the spies, led by Felicity Jones, playing the character Jyn. She's had a rough childhood, a rebel in her own right, living on the streets. But she's got a decent reason. Her father was an engineer who designed a super weapon to instill fear throughout the universe by way of the Empire. The rebellion needs to see him, stop this potential threat and enlist her help.

Does this super weapon that can destroy planets make my Empire look big?

The story is a spy movie, an actioner, that does, well, it's a gimmie that there's a bit of planning that goes into the tale, and because of that, the second act does get burdened down by a bit of tale-telling. This is alright, it had a third act that, well...

...yes, writer's matter. Because it is just a prolonged battle scene. I knew, in the back of my mind, that, as was to be predicted, many spies would die. But the filmmakers, under the horror director, Gareth Edwards, keep us wondering, if, yes, just a few might actually survive this.

That says something. That means the filmmakers, writers, performers, producers, and director gave us, in the audience some slice of the unknown, something unpredictable. We appreciated that, for we kept our eyes on that flickering screen.

This is one of the reason we buy large popcorns and sit in the front row. This was going to the movies. A swelling of music, a rush of adrenaline, yes, I liked the movie. There are just so many great bits to it.

For example, the video games are bogged down with everyone wanting to be a Sith Lord or Jedi and that means...yes, there's a shitload of Sith Lords and Jedis and the MMORPGs suck large moosecock. Not here. Not a Jedi in sight. There's a Jedi Temple guardian, but nothing more.

A beach battle is going really well, until, well, the camera follows one performer's line of sight out and up, and, towering above him, is an AT-ACT. A monster and it opens fire. Gareth Edwards cut his teeth on Godzilla and he knew how to illustrate the menace of immobile threat the size of a skyscraper.

ANOTHER diverse cast. A lead who is Mexican; a female heroine. Disney, in this department, is getting it.

I wouldn't mind them putting together a whole series of 'offshoots' from the main storyline. If it has this quality, I will be satisfied.

Yes, I learned my lesson. Yes, sometimes reboots are, well, they have the slight predictability that helps get the rows of the house filled. The caveat is, of course, on occasion, you have to mix in a little originality, too. Like here. Keep it going, people.

Peace.