With the succession of Marvel films throughout the last three years, The Avengers has become the most anticipated film of the film season, more so even than The Dark Knight Rises.  With the film’s principle photography having begun in late April, the upcoming comic book epic is no longer an upcoming project discussed on the internet and Comic-Con, but can now be seen upon the horizon.

It almost goes without saying that Avengers will be a massive project; not only does the film feature a bevy of Marvel’s most beloved superheroes, but it has also created an overlapping franchise, starting with 2008’s Iron Man, and ending- pre-Avengers release- with Captain America: The First Avenger this summer, all with even more guaranteed sequels thereafter.

However, “with great power comes great responsibility” the old adage goes, and a project this massive needs to be handled with an equal amount of responsibility and care, which is why one cannot help but be at least a little skeptical on whether or not The Avengers will live up to the hype and do filmgoers justice.

The Avengers is going to feature an ensemble cast, consisting of Samuel L. Jackson, Robert Downey Jr., Chris Hemsworth, Mark Ruffalo, Chris Evans, Scarlett Johansson, Jeremy Renner, Tom Hiddleston and Cobie Smulders, to name a few.  All of these characters-barring- Smulders and, technically, Ruffalo- are coming from other solo Marvel hero films, whether they were the lead, a supporting character, of featured in a cameo role.  Quite an ambitious move on Marvel’s part: orchestrating each film so that it stands alone, yet simultaneously works in tandem with the others to create an epic for the ages.

However, with a film as ambitious, multi-layered and eagerly awaited as The Avengers, the outcome can only go one of two ways: it will either be a massive achievement-and not just financially-, or it will be a massive failure, and if the film turns out to be “ok” or “not bad,” it will still fail.  The hype is simply too big to allow for mediocrity.  That being the case, one must give a great deal of thought towards the possible pitfalls that those behind the camera and curtain face in taking on such a task as assembling the Avengers on the big screen.

The greatest threat to The Avengers is a common one amongst films with an ensemble cast: a clustercuss of face time and character-based sub plots.  Ensemble films like The Great Escape and Inception require a restraint- something uncommon, if not looked down upon, in blockbusters- in the use of its actors.  The cast of The Avengers will have to function as a unit of supporting characters rather than a battle royale for the spotlight, which could happen.  Most of these Avengers are coming from their own films as the central heroes, and some of the actors may not appreciate being relegated to the second tier of the film’s players, but if they want to look their best and make a great movie, they’re going to have to work as a team, and not compete over who gets to be the biggest star.

Of course, as far as character dynamics go, there will most likely be antagonism between Tony Stark and Steve Rogers over who will lead the Avengers, and if there are going to be two stars of the show, it is going to be Downey Jr. and Evans.  Given the status of Rogers and Stark within the Marvel universe, it is acceptable that they will be at the center of attention, yet this presents another problem entirely: if these two characters are to rival one another, shouldn’t they be equals?  Yes, they should, but how could anyone think that Chris Evans has a chance against Robert Downey Jr.?  Although Evans’ portrayal of Cap has yet to be seen, Downey Jr. is the better actor between the two and exudes a far stronger presence that makes for a more compelling leader.

Honestly, would you not follow this guy?

No one knows how the relationship between Captain America and Iron Man will play out.  Will there be a playful, professional rivalry, or will Stark be fine with being the Avengers’ second-in-command?  After all, when it comes to most crime fighting groups, it is the lieutenant who is always the most engaging one of the group.  Take Han Solo in Star Wars, Raphael in TMNT, or Sir Lancelot in the tales of King Arthur for example; each of these characters are favored by fans more than their respective superiors.  Even in DC’s Justice League of America, most people favor Batman over the group’s de facto leader, Superman.

Unlike Superman though, Captain America is the actual official leader of the Avengers, as far as this incarnation goes anyway (I can hear comic book geeks citing the post-Civil War line up in the comment section already), and any leader of any group needs to possess the bravado, the confidence, that ever-engaging presence that make those around him-or her, easy ladies- follow in suit.  So here is the dilemma: who in their right mind would choose Evans/Cap over Downey Jr./Stark as their leader?  Not very many, so Evans really has to step it up as Captain America if he wants to earn his stripes and mantle.

Of course, again, this is all speculative anyway; we have no idea how Joss Whedon has handled any of this through the script, or how he plans to direct it.  However, Whedon himself is an interesting choice as a writer and director.  Regular readers will already know that I have my reservations about Whedon (for a refresher, click here), which is not to say I am particularly against him either; I’m just not drinking the Kool-Aid.

Whedon is a smart writer, and is one of the leading cult figures in the entertainment industry.  Many of his programs, from Buffy to Firefly, to the web mini-series Doctor Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog have become touchstones for this generation’s pop culture consciousness.  Furthermore, Whedon has written a number of comic runs in the Marvel and DC Universe that has been praised by critics and common comic fans alike.

Sharp writing, wit, a handle on character development and a comic aficionado?  Sounds like Joss Whedon is the perfect man to helm The Avengers, and in many ways he is.  However, Whedon’s forays into the motion picture industry has been mixed; several of the films he has written, repaired and co-written turned out to be pretty bad, and were subsequently disowned by the writer himself, who has blamed any and everyone else for ruining his written vision.  It would be ignorant to say that Whedon is just making excuses for his less-than-stellar work; anyone who knows anything about the film industry knows that making a film is a collaboration between a variety of forces (many of which have conflicting motives), but to give Whedon a pass for every one of his failures is just hero worship.

Lest we forget....

Much of this, quite possibly, is due to the fact that Whedon’s work is too singular, too… Whedony, which only means that he should stick to his own projects that he alone can control; after all, Serenity, the cinematic continuation of the ill-fated, yet brilliant “Firefly,” was a fantastic film.  The characters in The Avengers do not come from the mind of Whedon, which means if Whedon is going to do this right, he is going to have to serve the characters -and sometimes the actors’ version of them- and not retrofit them into his own creations.  Basically, he needs to keep the film rooted in the Marvel universe, not the Whedonverse.

The biggest threat to the quality and integrity of The Avengers is the same entity that can jeopardize any film, especially something this big: the studio, which, in this case, is Marvel Studios.  The recent influx of Marvel films-save for The Fantastic Four films- have been designed for the purpose of making The Avengers.  Iron Man was the test, and with its great success lead to the go-ahead for the rest of the pieces to the cinematic puzzle.  The inherent problem with franchises, however, is that companies, or in this case, the studio, are more concerned with the overall franchise, and not the individual pieces that act as its structure, which is counterintuitive to the story and its success.

In this we have something of a paradox: if Marvel is solely concerned with The Avengers, rendering the solo-Marvel here films as a means to an end, those films will be of a lesser quality.  If these films are not any good, their joint efforts concerning The Avengers will not carry the necessary impact to make The Avengers enticing, anticipated or good.  Essentially, if Marvel wants The Avengers to be the big success they want it to be, they should really focus on its respective solo features.

Which doesn’t sound like a big deal; after all, the more great superhero blockbusters you make, the more money you make, so there is the financial motivation.  But in creating the buzz for The Avengers- and promoting continuity within the storylines- Marvel is cramming a lot of Avengers references into their solo films, which could, in turn, suggest that these solo films are more advertisements for the big Marvel moneymaker, and less quality films.

Marvel has been hit and miss on this, and its best seen in their last two movies: Iron Man 2 and Thor.  The presence of S.H.I.E.L.D. fit in perfectly in Thor, as did Jeremy Renner’s cameo as Clint Barton (Hawkeye), and the Avengers’ post-credit tie-in was exactly what it should have been: relatively self-contained and apart from the film at hand, while offering us a tantalizing taste of what is to come.

Iron Man 2, on the other hand, shot itself in the foot by being too preoccupied with The Avengers.  For one, the palladium-poisoning subplot was hijacked by Nick Fury, making one wonder if Stark’s illness was just an excuse to shoehorn S.H.I.E.L.D into the film.  Secondly, there was a tug-of-war within the narrative between the key villains and pre-Avengers material.  As a result, the much-awaited sequel of Marvel’s crown jewel became a 2-plus hour reminder that The Avengers was on its way, with some Downey Jr., Rourke and Rockwell thrown in for good measure.

The film even led to the exit of director Jon Favreau, who said, “In theory, Iron Man 3 is going to be a sequel or continuation of Thor, Hulk, Captain America and [the] Avengers.  This whole world…I have no idea what it is.  I don’t think they do either from conversations I’ve had with those guys.”  Did Favreau see the writing on the wall?  If Iron Man 2 is of any indication, probably.  Each of these films must stand on their own two feet, and their respective sequels must be sequels in the strictest sense: a continuation of a single story; any overlap between storylines and characters should be minimal and unobtrusive.  If for some reason Captain America must make an appearance in the next Iron Man movie, make sure it is just for a scene, and not a substantial chunk of the film.

Criticisms and cynicism aside, Marvel is enjoying a much-deserved success with its new canon of superhero films.  The floodgates of new films on new, lesser known heroes has burst open, which also allows a number of different filmmakers to give this genre a (possible) new look.  So far Marvel’s choices for directors has been unconventional, and that is a breath of fresh-and welcomed- air for the blockbusters; Jon Favreau, Louis Leterrier and Kenneth Branagh are hardly people you would expect to be involved in projects like this, and now with the equally unconventional Shane Black helming Iron Man 3, we can hopefully continue to experience more genre gentrification within Marvel Studios.

Captain America: The First Avenger is due out in July, and the film will spark what it will amongst the fans, but all eyes are on The Avengers.  Nothing that massive has ever been done before within the genre or sub-culture, and it will stand as a testament for Marvel’s power as a studio, and will serve as a major watershed moment for this generation’s cinematic landscape.  So in regards to those behind The Avengers, let us hope they are up to the challenge: the eyes of geeks, cinephiles and movie house laymen are on them.

Don't mess this up guys.

With the awards season coming to a close, here are my top 10 films of the year:

10.  Scott Pilgrim vs. The World:  Definitely the most under-rated film of this year by leaps and bounds.  Pummeled into the proverbial locker by The Expendables at the box office, and, according to the Hollywood Foreign Press, not nearly as funny or musical as The Tourist, Scott Pilgrim managed to define an entire sub-culture within Generations X and Y.

Director Edgar Wright chose all the right things reference: anime fight sequences, 16-bit videogame sounds and iconography, indie rock and a short attention span.  Everything that defines the youth of today’s twentysomethings is displayed in full view; honestly, who didn’t attend at least one awful battle of the bands with groups similar to the ones in Scott Pilgrim?

Beyond Scott Pilgrim’s adherence to a pop aesthetic, the cast provide the film with a sharp sense of humor, Michael Cera provides something that resembles range, and the film also taps into themes concerning the reluctance of being responsible and the transition from “kid in their twenties” to “adult in their twenties;” a definable, non-pop culture related attribute of slackerdom.

9.  True Grit: The Coen Brothers seemed to find a kindred spirit in Charles Portis, the author of the original novel, when they took on True Grit; so much so that the Coens’ singular presence does not stand out as much as their other films.  Although the film may be their most conventional film to date, True Grit is not lacking in any bite or wit in its script or characters.

The language in True Grit is a simplified, old-fashioned one that is short, but very formal, and with that the Coens create a particular rhythm and cadence that brings a singular identity to the film.  This dialect is spoken by the men of the film (Jeff Bridges, Matt Damon, Josh Brolin and Barry Pepper), who also support the Coens’ vision of the West as being dirty, unkempt and very unattractive; the stark opposite of the traditional, lush Hollywood Western.

Of course, it is Hailee Steinfeld who steals the show and provides us with one of this year’s best performances (note: lead performance, not supporting.  Here’s a tip: If the character narrates the film, they are not a supporting actress.).  Despite being at odds with the genre of the film (female, young, clean, long-winded), Steinfeld is the driving force behind True Grit, and holds her own perfectly.

8. The Fighter:  Here is a film that could have easily become a conventional boxing/sport film, and under another lesser filmmaker, could have become Invincible 2.  However, director David O. Russell takes The Fighter into some unexpected places, and the film also boasts some of the best performances of the year.

Everyone knows the ins and outs of the sport drama: there is an underdog, an impossible obstacle, a triumph against the impossible, and of course, training montages.  Although these things are in The Fighter (there is no escaping these things in such a genre), Russell focuses more on the Ward family than on the Ward family business.  Although the film delves into familiar territory with Mickey Ward’s (Mark Wahlberg) training, the film provides a different kind of fighter’s tale in Mickey’s brother Dicky Ecklund (Christian Bale), who struggles with his own personal demons in a way that feels genuine; the titular “fighter” could just as easily be Dicky as it is Mickey.

Christian Bale gives the best male performance of the year, bar none, and although it is more debatable that Steinfeld’s supporting actress placement, Bale should be in the best lead actor category.  Furthermore, Melissa Leo and Amy Adams also deliver some of the best performances of the year as lower class, rough-around-the-edges dames with thick accents and sharp claws to boot.  The women who portray Mickey’s seven trashy, motley sisters should also be mentioned; if only they could gain a spot on the best supporting actress ballot as an ensemble.

7. The Town:  Here is a film that was critically acclaimed when it came out, only to be forgotten when Oscar season started, which is a shame; The Town still holds up amongst this year’s heavy hitters, and is a damn good heist movie.

Like The Fighter, The Town is a fairly conventional genre film (this time, a crime drama), and with an average film crew, it would have been visibly conventional.  However, one of The Town’s greatest attributes is its sharp direction, and who would have ever thought that sharp direction- or sharp anything for that matter- could come from Ben Affleck?  Yes, it was not so long ago that Ben Affleck was everyone’s favorite punch line when it came to bad cinema (see: Daredevil, Paycheck or the legendary Gigli), but it seems like Affleck is having the last laugh while he enjoys a successful career as a director, and deservedly so.

The Town is a really lean crime film: it takes the direct, down to business approach in its delivery that saves it from collapsing under the weight of seeking to be a definitive crime epic.  This no nonsense style is best seen in the actual heist sequences, which are wildly exciting and hard hitting, yet tightly controlled at every turn.  The cast of the film is quite good, and each performer captures the identity of their character in full; Jeremy Renner in particular gives a fantastic performance, as does Blake Lively (who is virtually unrecognizable) and the late Pete Postlethwaite.  Most of all, the city of Boston makes the biggest impression in the film, as the culture of the city permeates every frame and becomes a character itself.

6. Toy Story 3:  One could measure Toy Story 3’s success in the amount of tears shed by audiences across the globe.  Pixar has done great job with elevating animation from “kid’s stuff” to a real, respectable film that everyone can enjoy, and Toy Story 3 is definitely Pixar’s most mature film, and its most effective.

The Toy Story films have always appealed to the inner children of its mature audiences, and they have always managed to be heartwarming, yet sincere at the same time, which is harder to do than one may think.  Many animated films are too saccharine or too juvenile in their execution for adults, even when those films are aiming for more universal appeal.  Although the Toy Story films have never had that problem, Toy Story 3 is the first of the series to deal with some pretty adult themes, namely the feelings of sadness and loss accompanied with growing up and leaving things behind.

All the voice actors in the film are great, but Tom Hanks, as always, lies at the heart of the story behind Toy Story 3, and the amount of feeling and expression he can convey with just his voice is a testament to just how talented an actor he is.  Ed Asner, who portrays the villainous, strawberry-scented Lotso, conveys a real, genuine sense of bitterness that will make you hate and sympathize him- not a simple task, considering that the character is a pink stuffed bear.

5. Exit Through the Gift Shop:  Most critically acclaimed documentaries have a political agenda, and it is not difficult to see why: it is very easy to stir up an audience with a politically righteous message.  However, much of the public and award shows underestimate the power of non-political documentaries like The King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters and Dear Zachary: A Letter To His Son About His Father.  This year, however, the street art-centered Exit Through The Gift Shop has managed to usurp the public’s attention from documentaries shot on a soap box.

There is a lot going on in Exit Through The Gift Shop: on the one hand, it is a documentation on the graffiti art scene and how it is rising through the ranks of artistic legitimacy- or, at least, acceptance- in the art world.  However, the star of the show is none other than Thierry “Mister Brainwash” Guetta, who goes from eccentric cameraman to street art’s rising star- for all the wrong (or maybe right?) reasons.

Gift Shop is, without a doubt, one of the funniest films of the year.  Using footage shot entirely by Guetta, Banksy shows us how the art world’s pretentiousness got the best of them through the bizarro Cinderella story that was Guetta’s art career.  Although Banksy’s compilation of Guetta’s footage provides the film with its subversive edge, Guetta’s idiosyncratic nature and belief in his art make him all the more endearing.  What makes the film even funnier is the commentary from Banksy and his street art peers, all of whom are baffled and virtually speechless at the accidental champion of their art form.

4. Inception:  Writer and director Christopher Nolan has an incredible track record, and seems to only be getting bigger and better with each film he makes.  Inception was by and large the most anticipated film of 2010, and it managed to live up to its own hype.  In the post-Transformers age where big budgets equaled zero imagination or style, Nolan proved otherwise: Inception is as smart and awe-inspiring as its budget is huge.

There has been, of course, plenty of backlash from critics and online folk alike in response to Inception’s success.  Granted, much of what was made fun of in Inception was not unwarranted (personal favorite: “South Park’s” rendition of the Inception trailer music in “Insheeption.”), however, this really speaks to just how massive the Inception phenomenon was, and still is to this day.  As for the criticisms for Inception’s own self-importance and affinity for being over cerebral for the sake of itself, it should be said that, for all its style and playfulness concerning dream layers and such, Inception is fairly straight-forward: it is a heist movie, and a well executed one at that.  The rest is just aesthetics.

Inception boasts all the things inherent to a great “men-on-a-mission” heist film.  For one, Inception has an incredible ensemble cast, and each member plays off one another beautifully.  Furthermore, Nolan keeps a tight grip on the film’s concept of intertwining dream layers, and makes sure that every facet of the film’s schematics are in sync with one another.  The sequence in which the team is pulled out of each dream layer one at a time is perfect, and the way it all plays out goes to show just how good Nolan is a director (note: the Oscars really screwed up by omitting Nolan from the “best director” category).  It is probably one of the most memorable, if not definitive scenes of the 2010, just as Inception is one of the most memorable films of the year.

3. Black Swan:  Darren Aronofsky is one of my favorite directors of this generation; he creates distorted, sometimes even surreal portraits of the world and brings his audience into them.  Sometimes, as is the case in Black Swan, he drags them in kicking and screaming.

In many ways, Black Swan serves as a companion piece to Aronofsky’s previous film, The Wrestler, as both films revolve around the relationship between a performer and their performance.  Although The Wrestler adhered to a cinema verite style and focuses on a man well past his prime, Black Swan follows Nina’s (Natalie Portman) quest for total perfection at the expense of her sanity.  Rather than film the story objectively, Aronofsky relies on expressionism and presents the world as Nina perceives it: a total nightmare.

Black Swan does an incredible job at visually presenting a descent into madness; the paranoia, angst, identity crises, and personal transformations are made real, and in seeing these sensations fully realized on the big screen, audience members will find themselves experiencing madness alongside Nina.  Although Aronofsky orchestrates the nightmare, Portman is the dreamer, the character that embodies the experience of the film and acts as the audience’s point of reference.

Although Black Swan is full of great performances, Barbara Hershey gives a performance that, at times, rivals Portman, yet most award shows- save for the BAFTAs- have seemingly forgotten all about her.  For as smoky Mila Kunis is, and for as sleazy Vincent Cassel is (both did an incredible job), Hershey is so unsettling and unnerving as Nina’s subtly overbearing mother that Aronofsky had no need to use any camera tricks to make her scenes any more frightening.

2. The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo: There were two films this year that grabbed me by the throat and kept me in a perpetual state of shock and amazement.  Black Swan was one of those films, and the other was The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo.  Based on the immensely successful Swedish book series by Stieg Larsson, The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo garnered an impressive amount of attention in the U.S. for a foreign film, and for good reason; it has been a while since anyone has seen such an extreme, compelling film.

The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo is, no doubt, difficult to watch, as it delves into some dark, brutal subject matter concerning sexual abuse.  That being said, the more exploitative parts of the film never supersede the story, and instead add a depth that is disturbing, yet intriguing.  At its core, Dragon Tattoo is a whodunit, and no matter what weird and winding turns the plot takes into human depravity, director Niels Arden Oplev never loses control of the film, and always makes sure that the mystery and those who uncover it lie at center of the story.

Noomi Rapace and Michael Nyqvist play the film’s investigative team, and both actors are perfect at creating a brilliant investigative team, and a relationship that is somehow both intimate and distant, as well as oddly touching.  Rapace’s performance is perfect, and she rivals Natalie Portman; she brings such a feral commitment to the role physically and emotionally, and owns the film.

One of the best things about the film is how it handles the investigative process behind the film’s mystery: finding a girl who has been missing for forty-odd years.  The investigative process is shot and edited together in a way that brings the audience into the investigation, and that, coupled with a very interesting mystery, makes for a very engaging experience; even the research end of the investigation is thrilling.

The Oscars seem to have completely forgotten about The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo, which is odd considering its relative popularity and success amongst the movie going public and studio execs alike (David Fincher is set to direct an American remake for the end of the year).  Although the film was released in 2009 in Sweden, it was then released internationally in 2010, and various awards ceremonies, including the BAFTAs, has recognized the film for a number of achievements anyway.  The film should be up for an Oscar for, at least, “Best Foreign”- though Rapace should get a nod for “Best Actress”- and the fact that it will not even be mentioned is a joke.

1. The Social Network:  Who would have ever thought there could be a film-worthy story behind the creation of Facebook?  Granted, Facebook founder Mark Zuckerberg (Jesse Eisenberg) was far from squeaky clean, but watching someone create a website- which involves a lot of desk sitting and code writing- is hardly exciting to watch, unless it is given the Hackers treatment.

In an interview with deadline.com, Harvey Weinstein made several jabs at The Social Network- though he never mentioned the film by name- by discussing the lack of staying power in films that are socially relevant.  Yes, Social Network is about the creation of Facebook, but it’s not really about Facebook, or the culture of social networking.  Although the burgeoning world of social networking lies in background, the film revolves around themes of greed, loyalty, and the desire for success, all of which are timeless cornerstones of drama.

There is a lot going on in The Social Network, both on and under the surface, and all of it is brilliantly woven together by director David Fincher and screenwriter Aaron Sorkin.  The criss cross narrative involving the two different legal depositions recounting the creation of Facebook allows the film to cover a lot of ground in terms of plot, context and character development, and provides a visual kind of storytelling that coincides with Zuckerberg’s rapid fire thought process and verbal delivery.

Isolation lies at the heart of the story of Mark Zuckerberg, which is ironic considering he is the inventor of something that revolutionized the social landscape.  Fincher proves to be the perfect director for the film –as he deals with isolated characters more often than not- and the dark color composition that often accompanies Fincher’s films (compliments of his regular cinematographer, Jeff Cronenweth) sets the tone perfectly from the get go, as does the minimalist score by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross.

Well, it is a new year, and with it a new slew of highly-anticipated Hollywood blockbusters, not to mention more regular content from the site.  No doubt many of you have kept up with the rumor mill of Hollywood; oodles and boodles of remakes, reboots and superhero sagas are being planned for the big screen.

Which ones are you eagerly awaiting?  Which ones are you eagerly awaiting to hate on?  Following the jump are some of the films we’re most excited for, and some that we’re complaining about already.

Reboots/Remakes

Most Excited:  Robocop    

Robocop is an amazing picture; it looks great, it’s violent, bleak, funny, engaging, and just plain well made across the board.  Director Paul Verhoven has always had a way with making a picture sleek, yet unrelentlessly gritty at the same time, and in that sense, Robocop is his American masterpiece.

So obviously, a reboot of Robocop would be cinematic sacrilege then, right?  Right, unless the man pushing for the reboot is Darren Aronofsky.  Although MGM’s bankruptcy has halted the project, Aronofsky is still intent on making the film, so there is hope yet.

I’ve said it time and time again: reboots or remakes aren’t inherently a bad thing depending on who is involved.  Aronofsky is a fantastic filmmaker; he is visceral and intense in style, and he knows how to tell a story of transformation in a very bold, unrelentless fashion.  Bottom line: I want to see Aronofsky’s Robocop.

Least Excited: Highlander  

Like Robocop, Highlander is one of the great Eighties masterpieces; it’s flashy, ridiculous (an “Egyptian” Sean Connery), and featured a powerhouse score from Queen.  However, several sequels have proven that Highlander should have adhered to its own mantra: “There can be only one.”  Each sequel has been exponentially worse than the one that came before, and that digression of quality is not likely to change just because someone has decided to label the next film a “reboot” instead of a “sequel.”

Yet, is it not hypocritical to give the thumbs up for Robocop and not Highlander?  It would be, if a filmmaker of Aronofsky’s caliber were helming the project.  Unfortunately, Justin Lin, director of Fast and Furious: Tokyo Drift will be behind the camera for the reboot.  For the record, Lin has said that he is thinking about using the music of Queen for the film.  Any Highlander fan knows that there are three things absolutely necessary for a Highlander film: swords, quickenings, and Queen.  Anyone who needs to think about using any of these is not equipped to handle a Highlander film.

And one more thing: Clancy Brown IS the Kurgan.  No substitutes.

Sequel/Prequel

Most Excited: Ghostbusters 3

It’s about time.

Even though Sylvester Stallone has had the corner market on the “out of retirement” franchise films for the last few years now, I think it is safe to say that, while we have been watching all the Eighties action icons return to the big screen, we were all waiting for Egon, Ray, Winston and Venkman to mop the floor with them with parapsychological wit.

I will be the first to admit, some of Dan Aykroyd’s ideas are worrisome, particularly his obsession with featuring a new tam of young, sexier Ghostbusters (Eliza Dushku and Anna Faris’ names have been dropped).  However, the opportunity to see these guys dust off their old proton packs and smart-ass their way to the edge of the hereafter has a lot of potential.  And who doesn’t want to see Bill Murray in top form again anyway?

Why God, Why?!?!

Least Excited: Big Mama’s House 3

This is another installment of that one movie where Martin Lawrence dresses up as a fat lady and tries to not get discovered.  Hijinks (or should I say “lowjinks?” ZING!) ensue.

Fat suits and drag: does Eddie Murphy know Lawrence is stealing his thing?

Superhero Film

Most Excited:   Thor  

Thor has always looked promising: a virtually no-name actor to play Thor (Chris Hemsworth), a well-respected director who isn’t on Hollywood’s speed dial (Kenneth Branagh) helming the film, and making a movie about one of Marvel’s more unconventional superheroes.

For one, the Thor trailer doesn’t have the “action scene, one liner, shirtless star, smarmy quip” setup that panders to the lowest common denominator (see: The Green Lantern).  Given his repertoire of Shakespeare film adaptations, Branagh is an interesting choice who may steer this big-budgeted superhero flick into a different direction.  And if Hemsworth can deliver anything like his surprisingly intense, ten-minute performance in Star Trek, he might give us the most compelling superhero since Iron Man.

Least Excited:  Captain America: The First Avenger  

Granted, no trailer and a handful of production stills offer nothing to go on, but I have little faith in this movie.

In the Marvel universe, Captain America is the quintessential leader of men; and yet, they gave this role to Chris “poor man’s Ryan Reynolds” Evans.  In most of his films, Evans’ dialogue is comprised of quips, and the few serious films he has been in, save for Sunshine, have been clunkers.

Jim Johnston is directing the film, and although he isn’t terrible, he’s not stellar either; Honey, I Shrunk the Kids is a classic, The Wolfman was awful, and The Rocketeer exemplified his gift for gee-whiz wonderment, and his ineptitude for depth.  If anything, Johnston is not reliable enough to fully trust with something as big as Captain America.

Furthermore, the whole Avengers thing has become more of an obligatory cinematic franchise than anything else.  Adding the “First Avenger” title onto the film suggests that it will be, simply, a piece of an eventual whole.  Although Thor has the same potential conflict, something tells me Captain America will be a self- conscious opening act to The Avengers, rather than a solid stand-alone film about Captain America.

It was announced, not too long ago, that a prequel to John Carpenter’s The Thing was in the works.  Soon after, Ridley Scott announced that he was working on a prequel to Alien.

I don’t even know where to begin.

Some, if not many will be calling foul on this article on the grounds that it is pure speculation, that there is no telling how these films are going to look until, at the very least, a trailer is launched; in a way, they’re right.  Yet in this post-Phantom Menace era, it is hard not to be cynical towards the thought of a prequel to modern-day classics.  In this age of reboots and re-imaginings, it is far too easy to assume that the prequel has become the new remake.

It almost goes without saying that The Thing and Alien are classics, even touchstones of the scifi-horror genre.  They are, without a doubt, amongst the best in their class due to both films’ tight scripts, masterful direction, fine acting and revolutionary special effects.  Most importantly, both films are still absolutely frightening.

A small factor that contributed to the films’ horror mystique was the questionable origins of both “monsters.”  In The Thing, Kurt Russell and his colleagues investigate a nearby Norwegian research base, only to find no Norwegian researchers, and an alien spacecraft.  Perfect: it’s vague, yet not difficult to piece together, and ultimately creepy.

Alien has John Hurt, Tom Skerritt, and an ever-trembling Vanessa Redgrave discover a very odd, not-of-our-Earth-looking spaceshift containing a field of eggs (one of which launches a “face hugger” at John Hurt) and some kind of humanoid figure that has since been christened “The Space Jockey.”  Unlike The Thing, the origins behind Alien offer no clues whatsoever, making

Yeah yeah, but what happened before this?

everything about the series that much more eerie.

Many horror films thrive on the lack of concrete exposition, as there is little else more frightening than that which we do not know.  Horror icons rely on this kind of allure, as it is the mystery that makes them so horrifying, yet darkly entrancing.  There is no need for reason or explanation as to how they came to be; that would make them relatable, tangible figures instead of monsters that have simply emerged from the dark.

Michael Myers of the Halloween series is one of the best examples of this idea.  By the end of the first film, we know all we need to know about him; that he stabbed his sister to death when he was six, that he spent fifteen years after that locked up in an asylum.  The rest, as in his motives, who and what he is, why he is the way he is, how he got this way, is mystery.  Michael Myers simply is.  We don’t need to know that he was bullied at school and came from a troubled home.

Same goes for Hannibal Lector, who got his own prequel in 2007, and it ruined the idea of Lector; we don’t need to know that he watched Nazi soldiers cannibalize his sister when he was a child, and that his career as a serial killer started with him hunting down his sister’s killers.  It exposes a character that took pride in being sinister and coy, changed him from monster to vigilante, and frankly, it’s a terrible origin story.  I mean, really.  Cannibal Nazis?

The most horrifying thing about the creatures in the Alien movies is that they are, in the truest sense of the word, alien.  We know nothing about them (note: We’re discounting the AvP series because it’s ridiculous): their desires, their motives, their origins… nothing.  The fact that they could have come from anywhere, and that, no matter how many of them are defeated, there are more still out there, lingering somewhere in eternity waiting.

Which is why it’s mind-numbingly heartbreaking to find out that Ridley Scott, the director of the original film, is making a prequel to the film that started it all.  Why?  Is it because the world is crying out for the identity of the Space Jockey?  Is it because we must have an origin story about the aliens that doesn’t involve intergalactic, dreadlocked game hunters?  Or is it because American Gangster and Robin Hood garnered less-than-ideal praise and box office profit?

To be fair, Ridley Scott still has an impressive body of work, and though he seems to be spending more time re-releasing new versions of Blade Runner every year, it would be unfair to deem this move as “going back to the well.”

The Alien movie does have some promise.  Damon Lindelof (one of the creators of LOST) has been hired to pen the script, and Scott is looking at Natalie Portman or Noomi Rapace to star in the film.  Even if a prequel to Alien may be unnecessary, its good to see that there are talented people behind the project who just want to make a well-crafted, suspenseful film.

Yet, it could also just be another guaranteed moneymaker leeching off of Alien’s reputation, not unlike Alien Resurrection and the AvP films.  It may seem cynical to say so this soon in the game, but the recent announcements of the Alien prequel will be shot in 3D, will be divided into two parts, and will be given a PG-13 rating (to be fair, this is solely a studio decision; Scott fought for the R), it seems as though this film is just another part of a profitable franchise.

At least the Alien prequel has the possibility for creativity and suspense; there really is no telling what the story will be or where that tale will go.  The same, however, cannot be made for the prequel to The Thing, which has been named The Thing.  The identical title may be a product of lazy writing, yet it might be very clever foreshadowing; like its monster, the prequel may just be a copy of the original, though it will probably be far from perfect.

The events before Carpenter’s The Thing are more revealing than Alien.  In fact, they’re laid out in front of us via a recovered video unit: the creature that plagues Kurt Russell and company came from a nearby Norwegian research base.  Upon investigating the base, it is plainly seen that the Norwegian researchers dug up a spacecraft, opened it up, and the Thing killed them.  Boom! Open and shut case.  Nothing left to…

shown here: NOT Keith David and Kurt Russell

The prequel to The Thing will detail the events at that Norwegian research base, because there must have been more to it than that.  Or, it all went down in virtually the same way, except we all know (and basically saw) exactly how it will end.  However, the film will throw in a few American characters (played by Mary Elizabeth Winstead and Australian actor Joel Edgerton) since the American mainstream shows little interest in watching a Scandinavian movie with subtitles (see: the remakes to Let The Right One In and The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo).  There are pictures of Edgerton on set looking scruffy and holding a flamethrower too, which will make filmgoers look back fondly on when it was Kurt Russell looking scruffy and holding a flamethrower in Carpenter’s version.

These new prequels bring up an interesting question regarding film series these days: Are these films really adding to the story, or are filmmakers just George Lucasing classics?  Has the prequel become the new reboot?  It would seem so; several horror franchises are going back to the beginning of a series, yet these movies tend to be more of the same crap set with the clocks turned back a bit.  It isn’t impossible to expect the same from a prequel, which will most likely provide the same elements as the rest of its series, yet framed inside a scenario that was hinted at or explained in the series’ actual first installment.  Origin stories may be intriguing, but if the origin were so engaging to begin with, the film series would have simply started there in the first place.

Don't know what he's looking at...it's not the beach.

Last night, I watched one of the more depressing movies I’ve ever seen.  It was about this old guy who tells a story to a female resident of this nursing home.  He tells the story of a couple who had fallen in love, and there were some plot twists and things, and at the end…YOU REALIZE THAT THE MAN AND THE WOMAN WERE THE PEOPLE IN THE STORY BUT THEY JUST HAD ALZHEIMER’S.  Then they die, and there are swans flying as the credits roll.  The tears were just flying out of my eyes, it was terrible.

So anyways, I didn’t actually watch The Notebook, but my writing skills are just so good, that I totally had you going, didn’t I?  Hah!  The movie I actually watched last night was On the Beach, a 1959 film about the end of the civilized world.  It was directed by Stanley Kramer and starred Gregory Peck, Ava Gardner, Anthony Perkins, and Fred Astaire.  Being born in good ol’ 1985, I have no idea who any of those people are, but apparently they’re some big movie stars?

I’ve begun a trend of choosing movies that I have to defend as science fiction.  Mad Max, Night of the Creeps, and like half of the other films I’ve reviewed – none of them give outward signs of being anything close to science fiction.  I’m hard pressed to justify myself.  This week’s movie is no different.  It’s in black and white.  There are no dinosaurs.  There are no robots.  They don’t even go to space.  But it does have something I’m (apparently) quite fond of:  the apocalypse.  Yes, looking back, almost a full third of the films I’ve reviewed are about the end of the world somehow.  These kinds of movies don’t make interesting science fiction because of how humanity and the world die.  If anything, these are facts that are usually glossed over in the first few minutes of a film.  Unless it’s a disaster epic, where the end of everything we’ve ever known is mostly just spectacle.  No, most post-apocalyptic and apocalyptic films are interesting because of their portrayal of how people cope with the fact that life has gotten so hard, or changed to a point where it’s virtually unrecognizable to the audience.

How characters interact with each other and their own philosophical musings are at the heart of On the Beach.   The film takes place in Melbourne, Australia, with the nuclear fallout from the apocalyptic war creeping ever closer to wiping out the last few people on the face of the Earth.  We follow the lives of a few of the survivors: a couple with a newborn child, a submarine captain, and two drunks – a socialite and a scientist.  Presumably, these are the perfect characters for this sort of thing, because all people in the world can be put into one of those main groups.  I’m the submarine captain, if you’re wondering.  Which one would you be?

My Zeppelin is just out of frame

A lot of the themes the characters are dealing with are pretty heavy.  I mean, at the beginning of the film, it’s stated pretty explicitly that no one is going to survive the coming fallout.  The few glimmers of hope in the film are an automated radio signal coming from the coast of San Diego, and a farfetched idea that the colder weather at Point Barrow, Alaska might slow down the radiation enough to build a habitable life.  Naturally, anyone who knows anything about radiation knows that that’s highly unlikely.

And the radio signal turns out to be a bust too.

To be honest, this is a pretty depressing film.  Anthony Perkins has to deal with his wife’s denial of the coming events, eventually getting to the point where she is delusional about their chances of survival.  He also has to wrestle with the idea of feeding a suicide pill to his child to prevent the long, slow, painful radiation death that would take her otherwise.

Yeah.  Depressing.

Most of the film is dedicated to the relationship between the sub captain and a woman who, until now, has been a drunk, unable to cope with her coming doom.  Of course, drinking yourself into a stupor is a perfectly reasonable course of action given the circumstances.  If I wasn’t busy commanding a submarine zeppelin, I would probably do the same thing.  Gregory Peck is still tortured over the fact that his family was killed because they were living on the East Coast when the bombs hit, and this makes it hard for him to strike up a romance with another woman.  Of course, knowing that they only have five short months until the end of the world, is it really worth it to start something?  Does anything even matter?

Lets synchronize watches....now!

As a side note, and a way to keep myself from being depressed, I’ve just realized that Australia seems to be the place where most people assume the world is going to end last.  It’s where Max goes mad, the Earth goes Quiet (2 reviews from now), and people play on the beach, waiting for silent, deathly radiation to kill them.  Can someone tell me why Australia is so preoccupied with the end of the world?  Are you guys planning something?  It must be a thematic thing.  Australia must represent mankind’s eventual resting place.  DOOM, if you will.

The film is shot beautifully.  There are sweeping vistas of empty cities and ice flows, not to mention the incredible landscapes of beautiful Australia.  At times, the angles skew slightly to unnerve the viewers, usually when the characters are talking about a desired future, or making plans for the future.  It shows the futility of everything.  Some haunting dialogue accompanies these images…saying that the cities are deserted because “dogs go somewhere to be alone when they die, maybe people do the same?”

I mean, what else is there to say?  The film is fantastic.  It generates these terrible feelings of hopelessness and despair.  The only thing I wasn’t too sure about is the score.  There are points where the visuals are accompanied by a tense, almost grandiose score that seems to want to emphasize the fact that the world is dead.  This is just about the only misstep in the film.  Scenes like these need a mournful, or haunting score to accompany the depressing images.  It’s almost trying to scare you into thinking about the end of the world.  We really should be depressed by it, saddened by the passing of the human race, and the futility of life.

Other than that, the movie hits every emotional beat it aims for, and really depicts how depressing and sad the end of the world is eventually going to be.  I highly recommend it to anyone who wants to feel the cold, icy grasp of nihilism creeping into your heart.

Proving this movie is sad: do you want this to be the last thing you see?

Now, if you will excuse me, I need to get back to my men on my Zeppelin, the Spirit of the Paleozoic.

Away!

In an unfortunate summer that has yet to make a real impression on anyone, the lavish, designer label-laden Sex in the City 2 has garnered a bit of attention for being a critical and commercial failure.  Not only is it a terrible, but the content of the film has ruffled many a feather due to its obsession with fashion, wealth and its unabashed adherence to stereotypes long thought negative towards feminism.

Of course, many critics, myself included, are men, and all men are clearly threatened by powerful women.  At least, this is the response many Sex in the City fans give to those that find the film loathsome.  The puzzling thing is, all the criticisms I’ve read say little, if anything regarding Sex’s ideals of feminism.  Mostly, I assume, because there are very few examples of feminine independence or empowerment to be seen.

The Sex in the City series is, oddly enough, entirely different from its cinematic extensions: witty, insightful, and modern.  Yes, the battle of the sexes was a frequent source of humorous conflict, but the show never took the man/woman divide too seriously.  Instead, the series focused on finding that balance between romance, sex, work, family, independence, and finding one’s purpose, something we all can relate to.

Yes, the series was told from a woman’s point of view, but the show could hardly be called gender biased.  Sometimes things were the man’s fault, other times women were to blame.  At the end of the day, the men and women were just people, all with strengths and weaknesses, good days and bad, and were all capable making just as many mistakes as their counterparts.

It was this quality that made the show a symbol of feminism in the modern era.  Instead of calling attention to or insisting on a glass ceiling, men and women were all thrown onto a level playing field to duke it out.  If someone committed a foul, it was their fault as an individual, not as a man or woman.

With great source material such as this, its something of a conundrum that the Sex movies could turn such a corner, thus becoming what the series sought to avoid.  Men and women reverted back into simple stereotypes, relationship problems were easily avoided bits of conflict brought on by a character’s own self-absorbed sensibilities, and while the wit retained it’s bark, its bite had been reduced to a unenthusiastic nibble.

Yes, what was once a show with character and content had been turned into a scrapbook of fashion with storylines and dialogue that appeared to be written by those who had been more concerned with what Carrie was wearing, and less on what she or the others were saying.  The NYC, high society pop aesthetic that complimented the television program’s message had now become the message, and few fans seemed to notice.

Sex in the City 2 has drawn more negative attention to itself than it’s predecessor.  Critics and fans alike have left their local multiplexes with a bitter taste in their mouths, wondering what has become of their Fabulous Foursome.  To be frank, Sex 2 is just as bad as the first film; the characters are flat, the conflict is forced, and the insight on relationships and the human condition pales in comparison to the television series.

The only difference between the two is the time period.  In 2008, the recession was only just beginning, and few were privy to just how bad things were going to get.  Now, only two years later, the aftermath has left much of the country feeling bitter towards frivolous wealth and easy privilege, which would explain the acidic hatred towards Sex 2.  Much, if not all of the film revolves around the preening of a wealth that is as easy to enjoy as it is utterly unattainable.

When pennies become more and more difficult to pinch, its difficult to applaud the concept of money for nothing, from nothing.  Unfortunately, its this quality that defines the world of the Sex in the City films.

The film’s central premise begins when Samantha pitches an idea to go on an all-expenses-paid trip to Abu Dabi, which includes a twenty thousand dollar-a night suite and four personal, round-the-clock servants.  “I’m tired of this bullshit economy,” she says, “we need to go somewhere rich.”  There is so much wrong with this line of dialogue that I don’t know where to even begin.

Film is, amongst other things, an escape from reality, and with the dark cloud of the recession over everyone’s heads, it’s not unreasonable to want to hide away from it for a few hours at a time.  And yet, the movie doesn’t so much escape from the economy as it does place itself into the center of the boundless greed and frivolous spending that contributed to the economic crisis in the first place.

And why bring it up in the first place?  None of the characters appear to have been affected by it.  Sure, in the beginning of the film, Carrie mentions the recession, but does so as she opens her fully stocked walk-in closet.  There is something very disingenuous about a film trying to appeal to the woes of the masses while simultaneously rubbing their faces in the things they don’t have.

Of course, it’s not fair to blame someone for having money, nor is it fair to hate someone for using it.  Yet it’s not about the money, or the clothes, or the shoes per se; it’s the mindset, the lifestyle, the approach to said wealth.  With pockets near-empty and money tight, the last thing anyone wants to see is a group of people throwing fistfuls of cash into the air like it’s a big party.

As if watching a quartet of Daisy Buchanans gorging themselves on luxury for the sake of itself wasn’t bad enough, Sex in the City 2 gives us the worst example of motherhood in a long time.  Charlotte (Kirstin Davis), the saccharine traditionalist of the group, finally has the family she has wanted since episode one of the series.  Unfortunately, being a mother proves to be difficult (who knew?), and the benefits of a picturesque family fail to outweigh the hardships of raising children.  Then again, Charlotte doesn’t exactly raise her children.

Yes, Charlotte has outsourced an Irish nanny for her children who does so much work with the kids that she is more of a behind-the-scene mommy for the kids.  In fact, the only time we see Charlotte with her children results in her locking herself in the pantry crying while the nanny takes the kids into the next room.

In a particularly infuriating scene, Charlotte and Miranda, who actually struggles to raise her kid, have a one-on-one heart-to-heart about the hardships of being a mom.  The talk ends with a toast to all mothers who seem to cope without help, which is one of the most disingenuous things I have ever seen.  Don’t, I repeat, DON’T try to disguise pity with admiration, and don’t attempt to align yourselves with mothers who are on their own.  They are out of your league.

I wish I could say that the moral of this sub-plot is to make sure you have the emotional wherewithal to handle raising children, but that would require responsibility and a devotion to something that isn’t money or clothes; wrong film for that, I’m afraid.  Spoiler alert: Charlotte’s revelation by the end of the film is to hide away in Carrie’s old brownstone when she needs to recover from a long day of watching someone else raise her kids.  Bigger than a pantry I suppose.

There is a scene in which the girls read a very negative review on Carrie’s most recent book, which is about marriage, and instantly dismiss it because the critic is a man, and all men hate empowered women.  Several online responses to the film’s criticisms say the same thing.  My response: What empowerment?

There is no example of empowerment in this film, female or otherwise.  Carrie is a nagging wife who cheats on her husband while abroad, Charlotte needs her children taken from her, Samantha does what she does best while making hopelessly mediocre puns (“Lawrence of my labia!”), and Miranda, thank goodness, is the sole voice of reason, so at least the film has a quarter of its characters holding the torch for female independence.  Unfortunately, Miranda is no one’s favorite character, so it’s a moot point.

The freedom, the wealth, the privilege, the empowerment…. these things all resemble a drunken nightmare from F. Scott Fitzgerald more than anything else, where sophistication means buying nuggets of experience, sights and spectacle that can be gossiped about at a red carpet event.      

In a moment of great irony, unbeknownst to anyone involved in the film, the girls sing “I Am Woman, Hear Me Roar”.  Make no mistake, no one is roaring at this film.  Instead, there is whining, pouting, credit cards, and designer labels.  I truly hope that, in the real world, the ideals of empowerment have not become so glitteringly superficial.

I don't get it.

Dear Diary:

Today, I finally decided to write the next column that I have been putting off for a few weeks.  Why?  Well, diary, it’s because when you write the same format for every movie all the time, sometimes you get bored.  Formulaic, if you will.  So, you have to spend a few weeks fighting crime in Thailand or meditating in Australia to get your creativity back.  Then, you sometimes have to get your passport and identification stolen, get accused of being an international crime lord, and finally have one or two of the cocaine balloons you’re currently smuggling inside your body burst and have to go through a crazy intense detox.

Whew, diary, that was refreshing.  Somewhat cathartic, too.

So the movie I watched for the letter N (which is this week’s sponsor, by the way) was Night of the Creeps, made in 1986 by a dude named Fred Dekker.  Let me start by justifying this as a science fiction movie: it begins on an alien space station with ALIENS.  And it pays homage to the time honored sci-fi movie by legendary filmmaker Ed Wood: Plan 9 From Outer Space.  (My title does too, for those who are a little slow on the uptake)

The basic plot of the film somewhat resembles the plot of Plan 9, widely regarded as the worst movie that was ever made.  Essentially, aliens accidentally let one of their experiments escape their ship to Earth, where it turns out that this experiment is able to bring the dead back to life.  What the original purpose of this was, we can only guess.  Necrophilia, probably.  So, the small town, mostly the frat row, actually, has to deal with zombie-like creatures.  There’s also some kind of subplot in there about a guy being kept on ice cryogenically frozen for a while, and an axe murderer, but these are just the finer points of the greater plot.  Which is zombies.  Lots of zombies.

The characters in the film are fantastic.  They are basically the B-Movie archetypes that we’ve all come to know and love over the years.  We have the old sheriff who is haunted by his past (his girlfriend was murdered by the axe murderer his first day on the job), the two college students who started it all because they want to get into a frat to get with a girl, the douchey frat leader who is waaay too into himself, and the unattainable girl who somehow ends up with the protagonist at the end.  Each character plays their part perfectly, but I was particularly impressed with the sheriff.  He is maybe a rung or two below Bruce Campbell and Rowdy Roddy Piper in terms of badassery and smart remarks.  Awesome stuff.  There were times where his grizzled attitude and affinity for guns just blew me away.

See? Guns...also a Flamethrower.

There are even a couple of little touching moments in the film.  J.C., who is the crippled best friend of the main character, is eventually infected with the brain slugs that turn people into zombies.  Through the whole film, he’s had to walk around on crutches, but is always the light jokester.  He’s the lovable comic support.  When Chris finds his body with his brain and head burned in the boiler room (don’t ask), he plays a personal log-tape-type-thing with J.C.’s last words – “I can walk, Chris, I can walk.”  It’s really pretty touching for that B-Movie atmosphere, and there is a surprising amount of characterization.  It’s just a shame that he’s a zombie.  And had to light his own head on fire.

Another thing that’s really cool, and intentional, from what I gather, is that the parts of the film that take place in the 50’s are shot in black and white.  Besides the obvious reminder that the world didn’t grow color until the late 60’s, this was kind of a neat atmospheric trick.  Although, for some reason, the time aboard the alien ship that drops the experiment off on Earth is still in color.  Whatever, it was a cool creative choice.

For those of you who like that sort of thing: there are a lot of awesome practical gore effects.  Dead dogs, zombies, and exploding heads are just part of it.  There are a couple of scenes with a flamethrower that the local sheriff station for some reason has in their arsenal.

One thing that horror fans might notice is that this film is just chalk full of homages and nods to earlier films of the genre.  The university in the town is Corman University (named after legendary director Roger Corman).  There are no less than four different references to Plan 9, an obvious nod to the greatest and most terrible film of the genre, and the basis of the plot of the film.  And the best nod is that all the main characters are named after horror/sci-fi directors.  We have Chris Romero, James Carpenter Hooper (double bonus there), Cynthia Cronenberg, Detective Ray Cameron, Detective Landis, Sergeant Raimi, and Mr. Miner, the Janitor.  I’m too lazy to post the references, so I’m going to have my assistant do it.

Apparently, as the internet tells me, there were two different versions of this film released with a lot of changes in the ending.  The original theatrical and VHS ending had the two main characters watching the sorority house burn down, then a zombie dog wanders into frame and spits a zombie-brain slug at the camera.  CHILLS, EXCITEMENT, and SHOCK!!  Not exactly.  This ending would have been terrible, and if I saw that in the theatre, I would have been a little upset.  Or maybe I wouldn’t, seeing as it would be 1986, and I wouldn’t have any idea how to end a movie because I am one year old.  The good ending is more along the lines of what the director (who also did Monster Squad) wanted.  Det. Cameron, who is charred and zombified, and dead, walks away from the burning sorority house (I forgot to mention that there are scenes with BEWBS in them – a must for a B-Movie horror set in a sorority) and he falls to the ground where the brain worms crawl out of his head and towards…A CEMETERY!

Then we see the spaceship from the beginning hovering over the cemetery, returning to collect their experiment.  So we end on an awesome shot of a spaceship over a cemetery, where hundreds of zombies are now going to arise.

Awesome.

I can't find a picture of the graveyard...have this instead

As a general feeling, I enjoyed the film.  It was perfectly campy, it didn’t bog itself down with anything that was unnecessary, and it stuck to the classic feel of the terrible B-Movies it’s paying homage to.  The acting is decent, and the story is….um, ridiculous.  But that’s exactly what I wanted out of a movie called Night of the Creeps.  Is it perfect?  No, but I wouldn’t really want it to be.

Well, that’s all for now, diary.  Who knows when I’ll get to write in you next?

P.S. I think that hunky Brad is finally beginning to notice me!  Hopefully, he doesn’t think I’m too slutty.

"I guess I see myself as a kind of professional appreciator."

I love movies.  I love all types of art: literature, comics, music, photography, and painting.  I’m an appreciator of most creative endeavors, and my primary goal with this website, at least in the case of the films, is to share that love with other people.  You can think of this as the mission statement I never wrote when we started this website almost a year ago, but my real intention is to question the act and processes of criticism of the arts, and the way in which I’m contributing to it at the moment.

If you’ve been thoroughly reading my work for this website, which I’m sure most of you have not, you will have noticed a pattern.  I like or love way more movies than I dislike or hate them, at least amongst the films reviewed on the website.  There are multiple reasons for this, but the primary one is this: as someone who’s doing this work without any pay, I’m damn well going to watch the movies I want to watch.  I have a pretty good idea of what my taste in movies is, and what gaps in filmic history need to be fulfilled sooner rather than later.  For my own viewing I try and keep a balance of educational and just plain fun, but the point is that, in general, I intentionally choose films that I know I will enjoy.  The other is that I usually can find something to appreciate in most films that are out there, even if they are mediocre or bad.  If there’s truly very little to appreciate it, I still can learn and gain something from the experience.  Even if it’s just to laugh at it.

Watch this movie, please.

Let’s be clear here, I’m not condoning giving bad movies a pass.  As you’ve seen with reviews such as Dance of the Dead, I’m not afraid to rip into a movie when it deserves it.  Although even that film did have some good points to offer, and it’s budget nature should allow it some credit.  I could even see that film growing a cult following around it’s over-the-top and independent nature.  So you see, I have a bit of trouble committing even to the movies I really didn’t like, because someone else might like them.  I go to Kevin Smith for a paraphrased quote, “Make ‘em all, I say.”  Any given film that I don’t like might be loved by someone else, and if it means more work for some filmmaker, then great.  No, Twilight isn’t for me, and I disagree with some of the values it instills with young women, but the money from it helped pay for the purchase and distribution of The Hurt Locker, which I very much enjoyed.  This brings me to another intelligent point that I read on Twitter recently.  This one’s from one of my favorite comic artists, Skottie Young, “I don’t understand the desire tear down the things you don’t like when it’s so much more fruitful to spread the word on the things you do.”  I’m not speaking to any specific negative criticisms here, but I do feel like an unnecessary amount of time is spent ripping things apart, when we could just be spending that time sharing something we really love with the world.  Hell, you’re probably giving that bad piece of “art” more publicity than it deserves by publishing or talking about it.

Older films are fun, too.

That said, I do grate against the general culture when it comes to taste in entertainment.  I will admit to holding the view that people are not discerning enough when it comes to what they view.  Also, if I can save someone else wasted hours that I have already spent in vain, why not save them the trouble by explaining to them in as clear and constructive a way as possible why a certain piece of culture is not worth their time.  I prefer to direct audience attention to a better film, if possible, and to slowly adjust their tastes to something with a little more quality, but sometimes you have to throw up a hazard sign if truly dangerous things are ahead.  I think we’re trying to do a number of things with this site.  First and foremost is share the movies with love with our (small) audience.  Secondly, we’d like to help readers understand what it is that makes these films fantastic, so that they can better appreciate these pieces of art.  I hope this will also help them seek out and appreciate other great films, as well.  In the long run, though, hopefully this will help them have a critical eye of their own for movies and be able to have intelligent insights and discussion of their own.  It certainly wouldn’t hurt if we shifted a few people’s tastes away from some of the more schlocky contributions of Hollywood, either.

Once again, I’m not going to point fingers at any particular “schlocky contributions” in this case.  But, I will say this, why settle for a mediocre film on the New Release wall, when you can view a much better classic film and enjoy it even more.  Just because it’s new, doesn’t mean it’s fresh.  Yes filmmaking techniques have changed over time, and you may be used to the current modern mode of filmmaking, but even without some of the more recent tools, there still was likely a specific reason that every decision was made on a film.  If a film has slower pacing, it may have been intended to make your journey as rough as the character being depicted.  People often miss the stark beauty and tones of black and white in favor of viewing it as a “lack of color.”  There’s a whole world of fantastic films in languages other than English that are much better than some of the standard fare as well.  Maybe a lot of this stuff isn’t your thing, but maybe you just haven’t found the right genre, or the right director to show you its true potential.

All I’m trying to say is that I’m here to share with you some films that I think are great.  I’ve been considering beginning a column, briefer than our standard reviews, of just unabashed “recommends.”  If this is something that interests you, let me know in the comments below.  Otherwise, I’ll continue to work primarily with the films that I love all around this website.  If you end up deciding to watch anything I’ve recommended and end up enjoying it, I’ll consider my job well done.

Bad. Ass.

Thanks to all your love and support, my stalker has been put behind bars.  In an elaborate sting operation that involved me dressing as Dorothy from The Wonderful Wizard of Oz and prancing around with a stuffed dog singing “Bad Romance” by Lady GaGa (yeah I didn’t understand that part either), the perpetrator was captured when he mistakenly fell into a hole covered in leaves.  Score one for the good guys.  Although, I guess they should change the title of the website to “One Film Geek.”

This week(end?) the movie on the chopping block is 1979’s Mad Max.  A staple of dystopian and post apocalyptic cinema, this movie hails from Australia and clocks in at ninety-five (95) minutes.  Although, really, since time and space are connected, we could measure this film in meters, light-minutes, or even parsecs.

The movie begins with a homicidal rampage.  The Nightrider (real name: Ambrose St. George Ulysses III*) cuts a swathe of destruction across the barren Australian landscape, running into buildings, cars, speeding, and yelling at the top of his lungs.  Naturally, the damn cops have to rain on his fun and chase after him, trying their damndest to suppress his god-given rights to maraud.  Max, who is not yet mad, is instrumental in driving him into an explosive tanker where he meets his fiery doom.

Of course, the ramifications of messing with mauraders were not yet fully known in the 1970s, and Max brings a whole gang of crazies down on him and his police precinct.  Included are such illustrious individuals as Toecutter (real name: Solomon Carter-Smythe, esq.*), Bubba Zanetti (real name: Sir Cornelius Kingsly*), and Johnny the Boy (real name: John Smith*).  After slaughtering Max’s family after he has quit the force, they move on to destroy more and more of the Australian countryside.  Max, who is now sufficiently mad, goes after the gang, and, one by one, kills or hideously maims them.

It’s definitely not my place to say whether Max was right or wrong in his termination of these helpless individuals.  So I’m just going to go ahead and leave moral judgment out of my analysis.

One of the obvious points I’ll need to address if I’m to retain any credit as a science fiction reviewer is that you could watch this movie and not have any clue that it takes place in the distant future.  Well, I suppose there is the obvious opening crawl that says IN THE NEAR FUTURE, but beyond that, if you didn’t know anything about Australia – and I know most of you don’t - you might just assume this is how the world works over there.  Well, this is not how the world works over there.  But what makes this a science fiction if it’s basically indistinguishable from a regular cop revenge film?

Gooday, Mate...hahahhahahahahaha

Let me tell you right now.  What qualifies this as science fiction is that it’s a dystopian society where almost all government and law has broken down.  There are no clues in this film as to when or why that might have happened, and there is almost no evidence of post apocalyptica anywhere in sight.  No giant craters, no mutants, no sand creatures.  The key is the word “dystopia” which is a vision of a futuristic society that is the opposite of a utopia.

Because of this I say that this film is science fiction.  It takes place in the future, in a society that we would not want to happen.  Well, most of us would not want to happen, anyway. I’m sure there are a few of you out there who would like to let your inner marauder out for a little while.

Now that I’ve spent hours and hours defending myself against imaginary accusations of choosing the wrong movie – let’s actually talk about the movie.  Or, I’ll talk, and you listen.

This was Mel Gibson’s breakout role.  He doesn’t do much acting in the film, aside from starting the trend in all of the movies he would go on to act in of being very, very angry.  In this, and in all of his movies, I think we can all agree that Mel Gibson is really good at acting mad.  Maybe because he really is mad?  Who knows?

This is some kinky sexplay

The story is pretty simple, but is kind of reminiscent of a Hollywood Western in which a sheriff’s family is murdered by someone who had previously been arrested, and the sheriff goes on a vengeance filled crusade stopping at nothing in his quest.  In this, the “Mad” in the title may also refer to a blood filled madness induced by seeing his family killed because of something he had done to better society.  In this, mad may mean crazy.  Clever little play on words there.

Where this film really shines is in the crazy ass action in the beginning and near the end.  This movie is filled to the brim with car chases and explosions.  The entire first ten minutes or so is consumed by an amazing car chase with three cop cars and the Nightrider’s black Pursuit Special.  There are crashes, flips, jumps, and explosions.  And that is only 80% of the chase scenes – the production ran out of money before they could do the last 20%.  So they got in as much as they could.

I mean, what more could you want?  Don’t be greedy.

It’s not really surprising that a lot of the film came about conceptually when the director who had worked as a medical doctor for a time in an emergency room.  He basically threw a lot of the deaths and injuries he had seen in real life into the movie.  A couple of the spills are shot in slow motion, which really make it kind of cringe-worthy.  There are some good prosthetic effects, although they are kind of glazed over quickly to avoid you staring at them for too long.

The Star of the picture, and his driver - William Wallace

I suppose if I’m going to do an analysis of this movie, I have to talk about the cars too.  They’re cool.  I don’t really know anything about cars at all, so this is kind of new territory for me.  They used…a Ford Falcon for Max’s starting police vehicle, and a “modified GT351 version of a 1973 Ford Falcon Hardtop.”  My god, I’m even boring myself with this part of the review.  But there it is. I expect a couple of you to make your own replicas and send them to me so I can parade about the Australian Outback in my own dystopian car.  For the record, they destroyed 14 vehicles for this film.

One of the most spectacular things about the movie is that it was shot on a budget of $350,000 and it pulled in $100 million worldwide.  For the longest time, this was a record investment-to-profit ratio, and was one of the most amazing success stories in cinema.  When watching it, there are literally hundreds of little cost-saving items that kept this movie’s production budget down, from vinyl costumes for everyone but Mel, to reusing the same vehicles painted differently in different scenes to guerilla shooting in certain scenes – this movie is proof that you can make a decent action film on a miniscule (relatively speaking) budget.

I liked it.  It wasn’t the most spectacular thing I’ve ever seen, nor is it in my favorites list, but every time I watch it, I find myself liking it more and more.  It’s obviously a staple of apocalyptic and post-apocalyptic storytelling, popularizing the notion of raiders and marauders in a society that has no rules or organization.  Everything from Escape from New York to Book of Eli makes use of the concepts introduced here.

It also ends as all movies should: with Mel Gibson walking away from an exploding car.  See you in the world of tomorrow.

*May not actually be their real names

Iron Man 2

Perhaps it was by mere coincidence that these individuals were cast as men who have, in one way or another, fallen from grace and must fight their way back to the top.  There aren’t many people like Mickey Rourke and Robert Downey Jr., who are as famous for their self-destruction as they are for their immense talent.

Though both have their own distinct styles and poisons, Rourke and Downey were both Hollywood’s shining stars, both ruined their personal and professional lives, and are currently in the midst of a comeback, returning to the level of fame and respect once promised to them many years ago.

Mickey Rourke was thought by many to be the Robert De Niro of the Eighties, known for his good looks, classic New York charm and his method approach to acting.  Gaining a considerable amount of attention in a small role as an arsonist in Body Heat, Rourke was put on the fast track to Hollywood stardom.  Rourke, on the other hand, had different plans.

Turning down high profile roles in Beverly Hills Cop and Highlander, Rourke chose smaller, character driven films, such as Rumble Fish, The Pope of Greenwich Village and Angel Heart.  Although these films met with varying degrees of commercial success, Rourke received success critically as well as from within the business.  Even in his less-than-stellar films, like Francesco or Year of the Dragon, Rourke proved he could rise above a weak script and deliver a great performance.

Rourke’s aversion to success and professional expectations was no accident.  It seemed as though Rourke refused to play ball with Hollywood and deliberately did things that were deemed “not star worthy” by the powers that be.  Furthermore, Rourke proved to be difficult on set, depending on whom you asked.  Whereas he got along great with people he liked or respected, those Rourke found less than ideal bore the brunt of his irresponsibility, resistance to direction, and his general attitude problem.

Eventually Rourke’s reputation granted him a number of high-powered enemies, and the roles started to disappear.  Not only that, but Rourke’s behavior got even more unpredictable, as he started making choices seemingly made to purposefully sabotage his career.  For one, Rourke signed on to be in Harley Davidson and the Marlboro Man, a B-movie that now enjoys some cult success, but at the time was a critical and commercial bomb.  Also, it was a film Rourke did only for the money, something he would have never done a few years earlier.

The most bizarre of his choices was, at the age of 39, to return to his childhood passion: boxing.  Aside from the obvious conflict concerning his age this move proved to be the final few nails in Rourke’s coffin.  Although he proved to be one hell of a boxer (he won six out of his eight fights), Rourke never got his title fight.  Instead, he received frequent blows to the face, destroying his good looks.

While Rourke was in the middle of his rise and fall from Hollywood stardom, Robert Downey Jr. was just getting started in show business.  Having achieved a little screen time in Weird Science and SNL (for one year), Downey scored a breakout role in 1987’s Less Than Zero with Andrew McCarthy, playing a young, drug-addicted preppy whose life is quickly circling the drain.  Needless to say, the role held more significance than anyone at the time realized.

Like Rourke, Downey favored versatility over marquee power and played a variety of characters in smaller films.  From a romantic lead opposite Marisa Tomei in Only You to an Australian exploitative journalist in Oliver Stone’s Natural Born Killers, Downey managed to be as charming as he was willing to challenge himself, and people loved it.

Downey’s biggest break came in 1992 with Richard Attenborough’s Chaplin, with Downey playing the title role.  Critics and moviegoers alike were blown away at how Downey transformed into Charlie Chaplin, mimicking every one of the silent actor’s mannerisms perfectly.  Downey’s performance earned him an Oscar nod in 1992, facing stiff competition with Clint Eastwood for Unforgiven, Denzel Washington in Malcolm X and Stephen Rea in The Crying Game.  The award ended up going to Al Pacino in Scent of a Woman.

Despite his success, Downey’s severe drug problem was becoming more and more noticeable, both with studio execs and the general public.  Producers considered him to be too risky to hire, and he was always on the front page for his various arrests and exploits whilst under the influence of any and all drugs the young star could get his hands on.

Taken into custody a number of times, Downey was once arrested for the possession of heroin, cocaine and an unloaded firearm while speeding through Sunset Boulevard.  In another more bizarre, yet infinitely humorous one, Downey was arrested for breaking and entering.  It appeared that a high-out-of-his mind Downey broke into what he thought was his own home, and was discovered by the rightful homeowners to be sleeping in one of their beds.

After becoming famous less for acting and more for his wild antics, Downey appeared to redeem himself when he landed a role in Ally McBeal, which earned him an Emmy nod for “best supporting actor.”  Unfortunately, Downey’s continued drug abuse led him to be written off of the show.

“It’s like I have a loaded gun in my mouth, my finger’s on the trigger,” Downey told a judge in 1996, “and I like the taste of gunmetal.”

Rourke was dismissed as a trainwrecked has-been, barely getting by with the help of small roles from friends and constant therapy.  After years of being on Hollywood’s shit list, Rourke starred in Robert Rodriguez’ Sin City as a massive, pug-ugly street brawler.  The film was a modest success, but critics universally praised Rourke’s performance, saying he was the most heartfelt, human character in the gritty neo-noir film.  Soon after, Rourke received nominations from the Golden Globes and the Oscars, and scored a win at the BAFTAs for his role as over-the-hill wrestler Randy “The Ram” Johnson in Darren Aronofsky’s The Wrestler.

In 2003 Downey had managed to kick his drug habit, and slowly started his journey back into the good graces of the film industry.  Since most major studios were unwilling to hire him, Downey starred in a number of small films, some of which were good (A Scanner Darkly, Kiss Kiss Bang Bang), and others that were terrible (The Shaggy Dog, Gothika).

In 2008, Downey charmed his way into the good graces of Hollywood and the general public with his role as Tony Stark in Iron Man.  People fell in love with the actor’s smarmy wit and likeable arrogance, and as a result,  Downey was officially back on top.  Determined to prove himself as more than a one-off comeback performer, Downey earned an Oscar nod for his performance in Tropic Thunder as Australian method actor-in-blackface Kirk Lazarus.  In 2010, he won a Golden Globe for Sherlock Holmes, in which he played the titular detective himself.

In this era of celebrity over substance, tabloid over talent, those who grace the covers of entertainment magazines and snag segments on E! are no strangers to notoriety.  However, your Lohans, your Kardashians, your Hiltons, they tend to reap sympathy (and profits) for their bad behavior, claiming to be victims of flash-bulb circumstances.  Rourke and Downey, no strangers to consequences, are amongst of the few to admit to their own faults and take responsibility for their own lives for their own benefit.  Today, both Downey and Rourke are the public’s two favorite underdogs, not to mention Hollywood’s most solid, dependable actors.  Good film or bad, small part or leading role, both of these men prove themselves to be the best at what they do, and deserve every bit of praise, fame and recognition they can get.