To Review or Not Review

Many of you have pointed out the obvious lack of reviews floating about LiE these days, and have petitioned me to get back in the reviewing swing. I suppose my posts on reviewing lack that same cutting edge as flat out doing the reviewing myself. Either way, there's a rather simple reason as to why I don't do reviews these days, though the implications of it may reach farther than I'm likely to admit. That reason is confidence.

A while back when I went to compile a list of all the reviews I've written to date and spent a little bit of time drumming through them. It was a rather turbulent experience for me as time and time again I found myself let down by what I had written. "That's what I chose to write about that movie?" I kept asking myself, and much to my dismay that's indeed what I had wrote.

Movies I sang the praises of on alternative social media platforms had reviews which felt stagnant and dull. The words I chose to use were suspicious and likely byproducts of rushed thesaurus searches. The way I organized them fell flat and lacked transition pieces which would have given them flow, and character. I felt like I was reading the writing of my childhood self all over again. For those unaware I was a terrible childhood writer, and have the evidence to prove it (locked away in a vault in a dungeon miles underground).

This was compounded by the fact that my writing outside the blogosphere was suffering as well. Late last year I got in my head that I could write a book. After all I had an endless supply of ideas for stories, so I was certain that the words would flow freely from my hands into narrative art. Not so, and it took me near on 200 pages to realize I was stuck in the mud and tirelessly spinning my wheels.

Every time I turned around I just couldn't get the right words on the page. When I'd pace around the house I could visualize each word perfectly. The flow, the organization, the timing, and yet the second I sat down in front of the computer or whipped out my handy notebook, all the life of the words would be sucked out. "Shimmering beams of the night sky" mutated into "bright dots in dark upward place."

This same feeling I began tracing throughout my reviews. The redundancy in verbiage and adjectives pushed me to the edge of sanity. "Was that a good movie with mediocre characters or a mediocre movie with good characters?" I irritatingly asked myself with each passing click of a link. No matter how I spun it, I just couldn't find a review I was proud of. Even among those reviews that I would label my best, I find more flaws than positives. For someone who has written over 1000 posts and boasts a healthy dosage of reviews, that's a difficult emotion to process. Not to mention a bit melodramatic.

There are plenty of general posts I'm proud of, and I'll be the first to admit that in many cases these posts play host to only a couple of comments, if they have any at all. Most of the time, though, they are rants, ramblings, or articles on perception in film. Posts just like this one. Sure the redundancy is still there - I'm not a vocab wizard - but there's an added element in them that I find myself wanting in many of my reviews. Passion.

Not so much passion about the movies being reviewed, or the topics being ranted upon, but rather a passion for the style of writing required to do each. Conversational posts such as ranting gear themselves so much more towards the way my brain operates, and goes through the process of analyzing. Don't ask me why my reviews seem to stubbornly push against this tide, but they all too often do. Not until I started doing rants, raves, and ramblings did this become abundantly clear to me.

I've tried changing up the way I do reviews, throwing in new spins, moving things around, and dropping pieces that were getting in the way, but that feeling is still there. It's as if there's an invisible field around reviews where I opt to write in a stringent style not becoming my flow of thoughts. Where this came about is anyone's guess, but I aim to keep trying until I find a way out of it. After all, reviewing is one of the core foundations of critical analysis. And as a champion of that, I would be hard pressed to convince myself to perform otherwise.

Great Casts in Bad Movies

Having a cast of great actors in a bad movie can be debilitating for the crew and audiences alike. After all, it's not a difficult train of thought to go down when assuming that strong a collection of quality actors couldn't have been assembled if the movie were going to be bad. However, we all know that great screenplays don't necessarily make great films. Still, if you're teetering on the verge of investing, seeing a healthy dose of quality in front of the camera may sway your opinion. This is especially difficult when you find yourself going back through films with the mindset of those actors' quality today.

Movies like The Last Castle, which features Robert Redford, James Gandolfini, Delroy Lindo, Clifton Collins Jr., and Mark Ruffalo, come to mind almost immediately. But it's not a movie I would necessarily classify as 'bad.' There's a lot of cheese and rubbish underneath the surface, but it does have some strong performances which help save it in the end.

Of course 'bad' is a subjective term, but even still I could make the case that Ocean's 12 is a poster child for this in modern times. Though I will concede it has got its fair share of staunch defenders. So I have to think of what makes a movie 'bad' for me. I would say it's a movie I keep being lured in by the cast, viewing after viewing, only to tragically realize too late that it'll never become good. For that award, I have a one-two punch of Samuel L. Jackson to thank.

First up, there is Sphere. The 1998 sci-fi thriller rocks the cast of Dustin Hoffman, Sharon Stone, Jackson, Liev Shreiber, Queen Latifah, and the oft misused Peter Coyote. A strong cast whose isolation should give way to their performance power. Fights with imaginary jellyfish, random leaps in logic, a giant golden ball of doom, and over two hours later you've got yourself a dud in the water. Sphere could never get everything working in unison. It kills off its most interesting characters, and puts the other in a coma. How someone could ever make a movie where Hoffman and Stone are the boring ones is beyond me.

Then there's the 2000 incarnation of Shaft. Now this one I must say really hurts. First up, there's the cast. Samuel L. Jackson, Vanessa Williams, Jeffrey Wright, Christian Bale, Toni Collete, Richard Roundtree, and Dan Hedaya. Along with the healthy dose of recognizable faces in bit roles here and there. The real misstep? Well, that's two fold. The first was thinking with such a solid cast, the addition of Busta Rhymes would make things better. He's a lead ball to this films feather strong storyline, dragging it down at every turn. Then there's the dialogue. Jackson can make anything sound cool, and he has to because many of the lines he's given sound like they were written by a thirteen year old, just coming off a win at the "that's what she said" national competition.

Bale is stuck a character about as interesting as a cardboard mat, trapped in an unhealthy dose of scenes alongside Jeffrey Wright who is forced to sustain some of the most painful dialogue I've heard in years. Roundtree pops in and out, but never has much to do other than being the original Shaft in a cameo role. Collete, bless her, tries to make the most out of another flat, lifeless character. Then you have Hedaya basically just playing a hollowed out version of his character from The Hurricane.

The worst part is, I've seen Shaft a good five or six times now, and each time I keep hoping it'll be good. It never is, but it what it is, is often on TV in the afternoon on weekends where I don't have much going on. So for some reason far beyond my own understanding of myself, I end up watching it. I end up thinking its rubbish, and I end up complaining to myself for falling in the trap again. Worse even still, there's a handful of other bad films I could put in the same boat.

To Watch Or Not to Watch: Fast Five

Alright, here's my dilemma. It's a dilemma I've had since day one with this series. Should I bother watching Fast Five? I probably will.... eventually, but not after a heavy dose of moaning and mixed frustration. You see, after each viewing of the Fast and Furious franchise I've walked away with roughly the same mindset. That same mindset when you walk out to the car in the morning and shuffle around in pockets one last time. It's that "something is missing" feeling.

After the original The Fast and the Furious I kept thinking it was missing that real sharp edge that defined the film it so blatantly walks the line with, Point Break. The sequel, 2 Fast 2 Furious was out and out missing just about everything. The plot was weak, the characters uninteresting, the driving redundant. I had to wash my eyes out after that, and I promised I wouldn't go down that route again. Then game Tokyo Drift. Now I would normally be inclined to run away from this film but it hit a couple of weak spots for me. A want to see Lucas Black have an earnest Hollywood career, and amped up Asian fanboy lifestyle. So I went in and was pleasantly surprised by what I came out with. Don't get me wrong, it was a far cry from being quality, but it got by just fine on style.

Then came Fast and Furious - the most original thing since a sequel to sliced bread - and I figured it would be worth a go (even though by this point I'd completely given up on the careers of much of its premier cast). And much like the 2nd installment, I was left wanting. It wasn't quite as trite as that John Singleton nightmare, but it did its best to play up the sort of egotistic idiocy I find unbearable. Not to mention the marketing campaign for each passing film serves as a constant reminder that I am part of a demographic marketed to as if they were drunken sexually starved orangutans (don't ask me how I know that).

So here we are now, Fast Five. To watch or not to watch? Judging by the reviews it may be the first film to actually offer what I've felt the previous films lacked, but I can't rightfully say that. Nor do I want to deal with another Saw series where each installment feels like a consistent letdown. I know they're meant to be mindless entertainment, but I'm not one to lower my mental output to meet a film's level. Which inherently implies no matter what, the way this series is orchestrated, I'll always be left out in the cold. Not a place I care too much to be either.

Moral Dilemma: The Help

By now I'm sure most all of you have heard the 'controversy' rummaging around this latest installment in the much beloved by white people sub-genre of "well off white people learn the real world for black people." Now I haven't seen the film, so whether or not it skirts the serious subject matter at hand is a rather mute point to me. What I am intrigued by is the potential double standard that is derived from a film like this. You see, let's be honest - on the whole actresses aren't exactly given premium roles day in and day out. Especially not black actresses who are generally forced to leave their Oscar campaigns in the hands of a role that is statistically likely to be a "poor and/or dumb southern woman" (sex scene with Billy Bob Thornton optional).

So, I started to think about a scenario. Let's assume, for the sake of argument, that we all agree that The Help sugar coats the racism and segregation in favor of a more "audience friendly" (*wink wink*) picture. Here's the question - should black actresses take on a potential Oscar role even though it very well may undermine an important segment of their own cultural history? My answer: yes.

Now I admit all would be for best if this sort of gerrymandering of real world political and sociological issues wasn't deemed necessary by on high. Unfortunately the monetary forces that be seem to suggest that lots of people either don't want to, or simply refuse to pay to deal with some of the issues that have shaped today. Especially when you factor in that the most vocal white commentators to speak out on racial issues these days are of the ilk that make Edward Norton's mirror driven 25 Hours rant seem empathetic towards his fellow man. So why do I think films like this, no matter how grueling and frustrating they may be for those of us who wish we as a society could man up and directly address the root concerns? Simple: Open a dialogue.

You don't get to home plate without reaching a few bases and sometimes to get moving at all you just have to bunt - there my one sports analogy as required by the international blogging association done and done. What I mean to say is this: if you really want to tackle the deep issues, you've got to start somewhere. And more often than not you end up starting off a great deal farther than you'd ever really like to. In today's turbulent "if you're not with me you're against me" environment baby steps can seem the equivalent of moving an entire planet when it comes to bringing people to light on serious issues that don't conform to their narrow vision of the world.

So where does Hollywood's obligation to sweep in and start offering competitive roles to black actresses come in? That's the sticky part. Unless you can convince Hollywood there's money to be had, they're generally fine with letting black actresses wonder aimlessly in the abyss of Tyler Perry films and BET made for TV movies and television shows that have the crossover value of a USA professional Cricket league. Not necessarily their fault, but once the social stigma is there it's hard to battle back against perception, regardless of the number of facts one presents.

Granted that's kind of Hollywood's stance on just about every social issue. But I think there is an intermediary solution. In recent years what it has taken to win an Oscar isn't the backing of a major Hollywood studio, it's the festivals and a solid mid-level studio willing to tuck in a cool $15 million. The production budget for the last 3 Best Picture winners equates to $45 million - $15 million a piece - per Box Office Mojo, proving you don't need mainstream Hollywood to buy into what you're doing to make an impact. And with films like The Help, also made relatively on the cheap at $25 million, I wouldn't be surprised if these mid-range studios were lining up around the block for another film vaguely like it to invest in. And if, by some chance, we can get that next wave of films to go just a little deeper, then who knows how far it can go in the end?

A Mindless Debate

Are 'Mindless' films really mindless? No. Stop trying to fool yourself into thinking they are, because all you're being is counter productive. Oh, and the same thing goes for all the people trying to label every third film as being mindless. Now before I go on, let me get this out there - I'm not defending crap movies which were made with the knowledge that they were crap but going to make a crap load of money anyways. The problem here is not a question of relative quality, it's a question of perceived acceptance.

You see, every single one of us at some point in our life has liked a film that, all things considered, has the narrative depth of a car dealership commercial. It's just a fact. Yes, even those so prudish they would never sit within smelling distance of a major theater chain. Oh, and I'm also talking to you, people who like to hide behind action not willing to admit they've seen a couple movies with deep social messages and character development and kind of enjoyed it.

But in a manner that puts politicians to shame, neither side is willing to budge from this arbitrary and entirely pointless "us versus them" mentality. Which only goes to further embattle and firm the opposing viewpoint, and does a wonderful job of progressing the world of cinema absolutely nowhere. Not to mention dragging out every debate on a blockbuster

Just because something is mindless, or indeed very mindful, with respect to its conception doesn't make it good or bad. It is the execution that matters, and the quicker we admit that, the better off we'll be. Of course I think the films that are most often received as 'best' are films that find a way to blend mainstream entertainment and social context in a way that people can digest relatively easy. Just look at the last handful of best picture winners - if you don't mind my using that as a scoping device.

King's Speech blended comedy and history; Hurt Locker had high tension thriller with war drama; Slumdog Millionaire delivered stylistic action/feel good with coming of age poverty drama; Crash gave us... wait, let's not go there. But the formula works, and while I may not gush over him, it's one directors like Christopher Nolan know very well. If you want more than just an immediate splash, you've got to go the middle route. To blend seemingly mindless action with social commentary. Too much in either direction and you'll lose the other group, but if you trickle down the middle, the cash and people will flow for years to come

Going Through a Phase Right Now: Jackie Chan

When it comes to movie watching, I seem to have not matured past basic high school instincts. Not in that I still like now what I did in High School, but rather that you could easily say "he's just going through a phase right now" on any given day and you'll likely be right. Mostly because, I'm not the most consistent of viewers. It could be this week I'm watching nothing but the latest releases, next month I might spend all the free time I have watching anime, or I could cycle back and rewatch a bunch of childhood favorites. Maybe I'll dive into the foreign cinema or engulf myself in war movies. Perhaps there'll be a director I particularly fancy or an actor I'm in a hungering for.


Right now, for example, I'm on a Jackie Chan kick, going through all those movies of his I kept telling myself I would watch but never bothered to. For now this has mostly consisted of the Police Story series - 1 through 4, will get to 'New Police Story' in my own time - which is one of Jackie Chan's longest running film series (at five as of 2004). It's a fun, off the cuff, over the top series that wonderfully blends that comedy-action genre Chan is so well known for. Though I do fear watching these films has made me a bit nostalgic.

You see, Chan is quite brilliant at slapstick humor. He weaves the humor into the story, effortlessly. From his exaggerated facial expressions to the 'just no luck at all' situations he consistently finds himself in, Chan's characters are often two dimensional, but wonderfully colorful. Factor in that his movies are generally one motorcycle jump short of forever putting Evel Knievel to shame, and you can see why Chan has been so well liked by cinema for so long. No matter how archetypal, he exudes the lovable loser persona wherever he goes.

Not all that different of an on screen persona of another favorite of mine, Jack Lemmon. Lemmon could also handle slapstick and comedic zaniness with the best of them - see The Great Race. Yet, while Lemmon also conveyed an otherworldly charm, he knew how to match comedy for drama just like Chan matched comedy for action. I saw 'matched' because it seems to me Chan - either by age or personal circumstance - has lost that 'loving spirit' (sorry if an image of an '80s Tom Cruise just flashed in your mind and you are now desperately trying to ring that song from the inner workings of your brain).

His American success has been short lived, and uneven at best. While Shanghai Noon/Shanghai Knights and Rush Hour 1 and Rush Hour 2 catapulted him to stardom, people fleed in horror from the likes of The Tuxedo and I may be one of handful people on earth who managed to sit through all of The Medallion (that is most definitely not bragging). Around the World in 80 Days was just stupid, Rush Hour 3 was a frail shell of the original narrative, and The Forbidden Kingdom was depressingly underwhelming. Despite box office success with The Kung Fu Karate Kid remake, Chan was the film's only bright spot, and even that didn't take much. Please, lets not even bring up The Spy Next Door *shivers*.

So I wonder, what the future has in store for Jackie Chan? I'll admit it was a brilliant bit of casting to get Chan to do the voice of the Monkey in Kung Fu Panda, but the crew behind the scenes woefully underused him. If anything he's likely to enter that much frustrating realm of elder actor by which he'll inevitably end up playing in a series of Donald Sutherland specials - i.e. dying early on and being the catalyst for the younger star to carry out their revenge. Not the worst one could do, especially considering the life expectancy of most careers, but a far cry from the charismatic and cheerful Chan persona of yesteryear.

The Death of Slapstick

It was a subtle event. So subtle, in fact, that movies still aren't aware of it. One might even imagine that if they were aware of it, they wouldn't really understand it. A simple change in expression was all it took. The substitution of inaction for reaction; and with it went one of the cornerstones of comedy: slapstick.

Since the dawn of stage and street performers, slapstick has been an essential component of the comedy circuit. From little pops upside the head to the outlandish buffoonery that would give birth to the likes of Buster Keaton, Charlie Chaplin, and the Three Stooges. It was a sight gag. Built on the guilty pleasure derived from watching someone else harm themselves through their inability to be aware of their surroundings. And people lapped it up.

So why then did slapstick slowly fade out of the limelight? Is it because we have become more civilized and now only entertain high minded satirical humor? Hardly, one look at the latest batch of comedy releases can tell you that. Is it because we found an alternate form of comedy of equal value? Perhaps, there is no denying that the modern 'dude' and drug laden comedic styles derive most of their setup from old school slapstick.

But you know what really took the wind out of slapstick's sails? Realism. It came with the advent of color. An increasing desire to show real world examples on screen, especially with respect to our actors. Sure, we don't mind there being giant robots, magical wands, or spaceships fully armed with lasers, but if the actors don't react in a manner we would, we lose the taste. Which is a shame, because the great slapstick actors of yesteryear all knew that was the last thing it needed.

There just isn't anything funny about watching someone scream in pain. Like a vacuum it sucks all the humor out of the scenario. It's a cap placed right above the base level of laughter than can be derived. Gone were the flamboyant, harmless, whimsical expressions of the classic greats, in are the grunts, groans, and cries of torment of the new-age humorists.

Sure, I'll grant you a couple rare performers have been able to find the right balance between reactions and laughter (Chris Farley in Tommy Boy comes to mind). But their acts have been replicated to death. Honestly, how many times can someone watch an overweight male fall down the side of a hill full of bushes and trees before they tire of it? Or see a man get hit in the groin by a kid, as people look on and laugh? For me, I was tired before even the first effort, let alone the twentieth.

It's not my intention to demean the comedies of these days too much. They simply weigh in a different audience. Ones less keen on dealing with frolicsome affairs, and more interested in out and out shock value. As if the world of comedies is in a dogmatic duel to discover the uncrossable line so that Hollywood will once and for all know where they cannot journey. I for one, find this a cumbersome exercise in futility. Give me the lackadaisical hero unaware of the world around them over the inebriated crier lamenting their own stupidity any day of the week (twice on Sunday).

However, such is the way of the world. Some things evolve, others mutate, and once in a while something just fails to find a way to adapt. It lacks the necessary components to survive in the ever changing nature of men. We try our best to hold on to that tradition, but sometimes the kinder thing is to let is pass into legend. To leave those maestros there in celluloid print for us to revisit time and time again, untarnished by our vain efforts. For slapstick was their art. It was the intersection of a style centuries old with modern technology. They had all the tools in the world to build their masterpieces of the form, and build them they did in kind. They showed us reality, and sold us fantasy. Exorcised our demons, and exercised our minds.  If only comedies these days knew what that truly meant.

The Hard Road to Nowhere: Five Actors Deserving Better Roles

You might remember some months back when I presented to you a list of five actors lacking the love of mainstream Hollywood they so rightfully deserve. Upon reflection, I felt as if I had left out a certain segment of the actor talent pool. The ones that are seemingly loved by Hollywood but are trapped in a never ending spiral to redundancy and mediocrity. These are the talented ones. The ones that have proven they have the chops to be more than that person standing behind the idealized mainstream idol. Their the apparitions that never go away, and for good reason - they're simply too talented... if only the roles they were handed matched their natural endowment.

Some are relatively new to the Hollywood scene, while some are very old. Still, I'm of the opinion that the world of cinema would be a far greater place, if they were featured more predominantly on it.

Chiwetel Ejiofor

Chiwetel Ejiofor has 'it.' If you don't know what "it" is, then I suggest you pick up a copy of one of the movies he's in and take a look. It's a natural essence. A characteristic of talent that just can't be pinned down into simplistic terms. That enduring charisma that gives life to the careers of those like Denzel Washington. The Shakespearean tongue from which Laurence Olivier wove so many wondrous soliloquies. All wrapped in the emotional range of some of our most beloved stars. So why is that he cannot escape the realm of being just another face in a series of crowded rooms? Salt. American Gangster. Inside Job. 2012. Children of Men. Love Actually. All blockbuster films, for their own part. Each time he's little more than a second pegging. In some cases the sole minority figure. In others, just that guy standing behind other more dominant figures.

Even in something as mentally degrading as 2012 he exhibits some sentiment of unique presence. An auteur quality that sets him apart from the fold. He demonstrates such command of emotion, and yet so many films bend of backwards to keep it at bay. Is it his name that keeps him back? Do they worry its individuality with respect to the collective norm will not be accepted by the 'average' fan? Surely it can't be something as trite and trivial as that. However, if Redbelt is really all Hollywood can muster up as a centerpiece film for him, perhaps they should be examining what they present as film to begin with?

Toni Collette

Toni Collette seems to be the quint essential 'that girl from the party' in the Hollywood circle. You know the one. The one that just after the party, everyone turns and says "she is brilliant! We should have her around more often!" Then when the next party comes around, nobody seems to remember to invite. Thus has become the staple of a career that has spanned everything from Shaft and The Sixth Sense, all the way on over to Little Miss Sunshine and Towelhead. For my own part, I first became aware of Mrs. Collette at a relatively young time in my movie watching maturity when a fellow neighbor friend introduced me to the film Clockwatchers, of which he was unhealthily obsessed. And despite the film featuring to whom at the time I merely knew as 'that girl from that popular TV show' and 'that annoying girl from Scream 3,' Collette stood head and shoulders above them all.

Now, I won't deny that in United States of Tara, Collette may have finally been given a role of her stature; but this is after all a movie centric blog, and thus I feel obligated to note the lacking in her cinematic counterpart. Perhaps it's the roles she goes for? Perhaps it's the way Hollywood views her? The archetypal everyday Plain Jane mother from down the street. All I do know is this - she definitely deserves a sight bit better than whatever the hell In Her Shoes was. Then again, what do I know? Some people really like that movie (*shrug*).

Jean Reno

Perhaps the most grievous crime committed by 1998's craptastic Godzilla is that ever sense then Jean Reno seems to be either playing 'that tough french guy' or 'that kind of goofy tough french guy.' And considering this is from a man whose career featured near fifteen years and twenty odd films prior to his US breakthrough with Leon: The Professional in '94, I think that's a bit unbecoming. He just can't seem to be break away from the stigma of being Hollywood's favorite french man. He's always either inexplicably still there (Pink Panther remakes, Flyboys, Rollerball), or thrown in for a bit of a swerve and then dumped off at the next stop (Hotel Rwanda, Da Vinci Code). Let's not even begin getting involved in the discussion of why he even bothers with some of the aforementioned. He probably enjoys them. They let him do whatever he wants, and he gets paid more than you and me will ever realize. Fair trade by most anyone's account...

Yet, every time I watch Leon, I see an untouched well of potential just waiting to be hosted at center stage. That same potential which echoes throughout the background of each role he inhabits. And I find it most unfortunate that until Hollywood wises up, that well will forever be plugged.

Jeff Daniels

I think it can be safely said that if Jeff Daniels and Greg Kinnear were to ever team up for a film as two brothers on a cross country trip, we'd have to name the movie Homeward Bound 3. It's that puppy dog, golden retriever facial expression that just makes you want to cuddle them. Then they burst through the screen with a role like Daniels' Lewis in The Lookout and you find yourself a two year old bouncing on the edge of the couch, desperately begging for more. Unfortunately that's when you also realize Daniels only other role that year was a sideshow part in RV and you question humanity's point in the universe. It's a harsh jump, but an understandable one. With great performances in films like Squid and the Whale, Good Night and Good Luck, and Pleasantville, you'd think Daniels name would be attached to more high profile role prospects.

Somehow I don't think a 'was that Jeff Daniels?' random-thon in Traitor, State of Play, and Away We Go don't quite cut the mustard. Toss Paper Man into the mix and you've got a starring role in a movie nobody will see. But please, please, don't mention his voice work in Space Chimps. Hasn't the man suffered enough? I mean, after all, he did My Favorite Martian. Which, coincidentally, could also be a key factor in why his career hasn't panned out. But I still hold hope for this veteran of greats of my youthful years in Speed, Dumb and Dumber, 101 Dalmatians, Fly Away Home, and the unforgettable Arachnophobia. Sure, they aren't all masterpieces. But that doesn't stop him from being fantastic in each and every single one.

John C. Reilly

I can't even quantify in any meaningful measurement just how much pain I feel when I have to say to someone "you know, the friend from Talladega Nights" when trying to discuss John C. Reilly's career. The only similar moment I can think of that you might relate to is that feeling you have just after you came downstairs for the third time this morning, and now finally remember what the hell it is you keep going upstairs to look for. That "gah, I feel like such an idiot" sort of inner anger. But every time I optimistically try and slide in with a "you know, the guy from Chicago, The Aviator, Magnolia, Gangs of New York, and Boogie Nights," all I get are vacuous stares more heartbreaking than watching Paris Hilton explain middle eastern politics.

These days Reilly is the poster boy for drama comedies you haven't seen, and out and out mainstream comedies you just won't see. Sure, his latest endeavors have finally earned him the minute sentiment of public outcry that dissipates just as quickly as it emerges, but these roles are no where near indicative of the caliber of skill he possesses. If anything, they've become a nuisance, depriving us all of his craft.


There you have it. Five Actors whom I'd love to see Hollywood take a deeper look at in the casting department. Sure, I know this post will not provide a necessary catalyst to their careers that ought to lead them onto the quick train to Oscarville they so rightfully deserve. Then again, that's not going to stop me from hoping anyways.

So, what are some of your favorite actors you'd like to see get some better roles?

Cinematic Saturation

We are a society of choice. In fact we have so much choice we actually have the choice of which awards shows to cast our choices towards. There's People's Choice Awards, Teen's Choice Awards, Kid's Choice Awards, and of course MTV Movie Awards For Those Who Also Voted In All The Other Ones But Want to Be Sure People Get The Point.... I think it's safe to say we are a society of saturation. These days when you hear something, you don't just hear it once. You hear it at work, on TV, in the newspaper, on your phone, across your twitter feed, tumble, and facebook. People ask you questions on formspring, text you for your input, all before you blog about it and send out emails to all the people who have just gone the same thing just in case anyone might have missed it. And for the most part, I would say dealing with any one of these various components on its own right is perfectly fine. But as a collective, they're beyond overkill.

And like every other segment of entertainment, movies have bought into the same saturated pie. Tell me, how long can you watch television without seeing at least three trailers for the next 'big' films - or so they label themselves - that will in short time be coming to a multiplex near you? I'd wager twenty minutes if you're on the right channel. Add into that the mass number of trailers for the same movie that will be played intermittently throughout your wait for the other films' trailers to arrive. This past week I saw a trailer for Fast Five followed by another trailer for Fast Five. And it occurred to me: back the hell off already.

Seriously, I know the point of trailers is to play up hype and push out the knowledge that your film is being released this weekend. More specifically - the fact that you've invested an insane - yes, insane - amount of money in this and need this to bank or you'll have to settle for only buying three sports cars this year instead of seven. Such is the way of the hard knock life for your average billionaire studio. But even still, it's the sheer egotistical nature of it all that annoys me.

This week three films received wide releases. Next week three films will receive wide releases. After that, only two - can't be big winners every time. But across the platform there is one consistency: Money. Oh yes, every week a new movie which cost hundreds of millions of dollars to make - though they shouldn't have - will make its way into the multiplex near you. And your job to support them. Otherwise, no more movies for you!

Or so the trailers would lead you to believe. According to most of them every week you'd be missing the event of your generation, event of a lifetime, once in a lifetime film, jaw dropping event, or the thing everybody will be talking about is coming your way. All they ask is that you obediently toss out $8 every week - ideally a few times for safe measure - for roughly 40 weeks out of the year. I don't know about you, but I always keep $320+ on hand just to make sure I do their bidding.

The worst part of it all: each weekend there is a movie released targeting the same demographic as the week before - let alone the same weekend. No movie can breath. Blockbuster events like Avatar exist because simply put nothing else anyone cared for was opening within eight weeks of it. I'm not saying Hollywood should adhere to that. But would it kill you to not try and cram all your biggest sellers into one weekend after another? This July alone we'll be seeing Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2, Captain America: The First Avenger, and Cowboys and Aliens - each strong contender for mega box office success - appearing in theaters in successive weeks.

It's a fast food world and movies are riding the drive through lane. Get in, get out, munch, and return as quick as humanly possible. But I don't want that. I want to sit and reflect on the movies I've seen. Take a while to weight their pros and cons. Maybe wait a week or two and go with a friend who is out of town. But this day and age - no. If you're not a hit out of the gate, you're a bomb by midweek and out of the theaters in four. In that time frame a handful of other films vaguely similar to you has been thrust into the limelight and are begging and calling for attention just the same. No rest for the weary, and even less so for those prone to patience.

Be sure to remember my dear readers, you always have a choice. Well, you do so long as you make the one that the studios want. If you don't, no worries, society has already come up with a fine label for you which will allow them to perfectly ignore you and go on making their perceived choices with pleasure. Now, go out there and think for yourself... just so long as you only think the same as me.

Art of the Modern Musical Credit Sequence

The right musical accompaniment at just the right moment can elevate even the most powerful endings over the top and right into the forefront of the mental queue every time. And sometimes having a great piece of music spliced in at just the right moment can take even the most mediocre of cinematic flairs into the back of the human brain, giving them ample opportunity for memory. Though it would all be for not, in my opinion, if they didn't have the right graphical makeup to bring it all together. However, in this day of copycat cinema, I'm more than willing to accept something that's just beautiful, or over the top fun. So, for your listening enjoyment, amusement, or in some cases frustration, I give you some of my favorite credit sequences from the last few years:

Note: Some spoilers lay ahead - enter at your own risk

There are quite a few others I would include but simply couldn't find good videos for them. They include Extreme Ways for Bourne Ultimatum, Into the West for Return of the King, and Jai Ho for Slumdog Millionaire, among others.

So, what are some of your favorite music + credit title combos of the last few years?

There and Back Again: The Thin Red Line

Terrence Malick didn't so much as burst onto the scene as he slowly trickled through the gaps, like a snap in the desert, creating a path all on his own. And it must be said that it is a path I have often found difficult to navigate, understand, and at times bother to care about. Among a collection of modern directors who have found some cinematic power in twisting the rules of cinema into their own elusive state. Along with the likes of Werner Herzog and Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu, Malick has formed a manner of film in which silence is boisterous, cold-hearted is warm-blooded, and a seemingly stillness can sprint faster than Usain Bolt chasing a golden podium.

It is a style I find disconcerting, if not entirely frustrating altogether. In essence it is a form of narrative that plays against everything I expect in a movie, and unfortunately also the things I desire. I am a man of character. Well, I'm a character. But either way the aspect of a film I find myself most directly drawn to are the characters. Their motives are important to me. The way they carry themselves, the tales they tell, and the manner in which their lives unfold. So, while I appreciate the solemn nature of films like Badlands and Days of Heaven, I don't  find them particularly engaging.

Which brings me to the third installment in Malick's short, but well maintained and beloved, directorial resume - The Thin Red Line. Based on the novel by James Jones about the battle of Guadalcanal during WW2, The Thin Red Line follows a platoon of soldiers journey through bloodshed, reflection, inner demons, and the raw intensity of nature, Malick focuses his efforts on the men themselves. We seldom see the action, but we are always experiencing it. Often tight shots on groups of soldiers marching through the woods help create a claustrophobic sense of war. An ever increasing fear of the world around, the beautiful and covert surroundings, and the all encompassing desire to escape - mentally and physically.

My first experience with The Thin Red Line led me in quite a different direction from those of Malick's other films. Having taken part many years before them, I found the movie's initially first part, the taking of the hill, gripping at every turn. I could not get enough of it. But in time it passed, and there was still half the film to unfold! It was at that time that my interest waned, and eventually collapsed under its own pressure. I didn't so much hate the film as I longed to love it. An odd feeling that finds your review of it equally challenging. How do you rate a movie you feel indifference is too unbecoming and yet anything overtly positive would be misleading? Negativity isn't the way to go, but if I recall I threw out a 7 for good measure and was done with it.

And there it lay for many years. It was until some time later that the theory of second viewings being the tell all for many films crossed my mind, and inevitably became something of a fixation with me. I revisited hundreds of movies that traversed the gamut of love and hate, and found to my surprise a few real gems among the evanescent. Perhaps the most momentous being Malick's The Thin Red Line. Keep in mind this was still some time before I cared to see A New World, Badlands, or Days of Heaven. Yet, I could not deny the existence of a new feeling that didn't exist the first time around.

Perhaps since then my run through the world of Kurosawa, William Wyler, and David Lean had dampened my aversion to long, winding films with multiple interwoven parts. But that was not the only reason. The Thin Red Line marked a rather epiphanic turn for my understanding of the way movie reviewing worked: The knowledge that no matter what we declare, our opinions are roaming ideals, floating throughout our minds, and capable of being pushed in any direction - it is just a matter of finding a force strong enough to do the job.

The Thin Red Line still ranks among my favorite war movies to this day, some four years later. It's a constant outside shot for my top 100, and one of those movies I am constantly looking back on and wondering "what if." It serves, alongside the rather ubiquitous 2001: A Space Odyssey, as reminders that even the most unfulfilling of films are not always bad - just not right at the particular time in life they came along. So while we may be quick to lash out in hyperbolic claims of mediocrity or dissidence, acknowledgment that this is not final is perhaps one of the most crucial components of any review.

It does not mean you must watch every movie you ever see twice. Instead, that you should never close yourself to the idea that one can come along and surprise you, even when your sure your mind is made up. In the words of Chuck Noland you should do so "because tomorrow the sun will rise. Who knows what the tide could bring?"

Univarn's Unconventional Laws of the Movies

A little while back Rich of Wide Screen World presented his tips to movie theaters to help them regain the allure they once held. Well, to be honest, I don't think he went far enough. Helping to make movie watching an enjoyable experience for all requires the work of all. So I've come up with some new societal laws that I believe should be put into effect asap.

1. If the person sitting in front of you in the movie theater takes out their cell phone and begins texting, you are socially obligated to begin kicking the back of their chair repeatedly until A) They stop or B) They turn around with an annoyed expression on their face at which time you must lean in and with your most mocking non-apologetic tone say "sorry, was I bothering you?" - and then jack their cell phone and throw it against the wall. Note: This rule applies in equal measurement to any form of excessively annoying conversation at the theater. Just don't throw people against the wall, a good back handed pimp slap will suffice.

2. Rental agencies, such as Netflix and Blockbuster (well, maybe not Blockbuster - Red Box, that's hip and current) should be required to hire a CSI squad to investigate who the hell are these people who keep scratching up DVDs beyond bearable and returning them as if nothing happened. Once the culprits are found, anyone who has had to try and struggle through the DVD(s) they returned will be called upon for their opportunity to take a whack at them - Airplane style.

3. Movie theaters, including (and perhaps especially) chains, are required to screen at least one classic movie once a month (and no, that kind of popular animated film from last year doesn't count) with suggestions to be offered from potential patrons either via their website, or another method. Any movie theater who fails to do this, will be bumped back one week of the latest wide releases for each month they fail to take part. By showing multiple screenings a month, the theaters can earn back their lost weeks, or build up a credit in case they do miss a month.

4. Studios must stop all production on any video game adaptations and hire a special board of people to determine the plausibility of a game being turned into a movie, prior to continuing. This board should be made up of (talented) filmmakers, video game fans, and critics of both mediums. This is the only way to save us all a lot of time that we'll never get back (and if you're going to whine about it studios - you should have thought about that before you went and did Super Mario Bros. We still haven't forgiven you for that).

5. A federal investigation must be launched to inquire into how people like Paul W.S. Anderson, Uwe Boll, and the Wibberley brothers, among others who will be shortlisted, manage to make profitable films, and are allowed to continue making movies. Regardless of the outcome of the investigations, we will find them all guilty of inhumane practice and have them blacklisted from ever working in Hollywood again. Yes, I'm advocating for the recreation of HUAC - minus the communism, corruption, and worry about stupid things with me in charge (because I'm better) - investigating a real issue: The retardation of society.

So, there you have it. My unconventional laws that I believe should be put into effect immediately for the sake of all mankind. Now, I want to know - what would be some of yours?

Can Critics Ever Win?

Allow me to paint a scene for you. It's 11:15 pm on a Friday night. I'm waiting in the hallway at my local multiplex as my fellow theatrical attendees take care of some 'personal business.' I had just spent the last two hours being quite swept away by the animated western Rango, and was in a rather chipper and cordial condition. As I wait, I bide the time by opening the door for those who need opening and smile and nod at anyone who just so happens to make eye contact with me. Across the hall, the only other movie still rolling in the place has just wrapped up and out of it pours a rather different crowd from the one I shared my Rangonian experience with. They're scruffier, more growl, chub, and of the older persuasion. They have just spent their last two hours delving into the world of Snyder and Sucker Punch. Now, my immediate lack of desire to see the film, combined with my naturally inquisitiveness inspired in my the desire to sneak a listen at what the prevailing thoughts of your more common moviegoer would be.

There was a lot of variety, a lot of 'did we like it?' sort of questions enforcing groupthink upon the coalition cinema. As such it took me a long time to get some honest opinions from the boisterous crowd. Alas, as the collective started to thin out into their relative subgroups it became quite a bit easier to attain the following three general opinions on Suck Punch:

1. Look at the shiny shiny
2. The story definitely had its problems.

Now before I go on, I should point out that not everyone agreed with the prior two. Lots of desertion and disagreement varying from those of various age and personality. However, the following third observation I found quite amusing. EVERY group had at least one person (in some cases multiple) agreed on it:

3. The critics were wrong.

Sure, Sucker Punch wasn't the greatest movie of all time - You know, because every single review ever written about it made that exact observation - but it was entertaining, and that's all they want. Or so they kept telling themselves. Had any of these people actually read a review of the movie? To be quite honest, I'd be willing to bet not many, if any had. Why do I say this? Simply because almost all the complaints they had with the film were exactly what critics had said. Of course, that doesn't change the fact that critics are in fact critics and therefore instantly wrong.

Critics seem to have this stigma of only containing these imaginary four fat white guys who live in their parent's basement and watch nothing but independent films all day. You know, after all only 5 of the top 10 grossing movies last week had a fresh rating on Rotten Tomatoes. Can't believe those horrible critics looked down on gems like Mars Needs Moms, Beastly, and Red Riding Hood. They are so totally out of touch! I'm not saying you're wrong for wanting to see, or even enjoying those movies. But don't be so damned surprised that critics, who probably have to sit through 90times the amount of god awful movies that you do, don't exactly salivate at every movie you see.

Besides, if you don't feel like critics are doing a good job representing your segment of society, get off your fat ass and represent yourself. You have hands, a voice, mind, and if you toss in a computer with a passable internet connected the tools to be a critic yourself. Though don't be too surprised to find that the more you branch out, the less significant the films to which inspired your cause seem to become.

Is Everyone a Critic?

Short Answer: No. Long Answer: Not really. Allow me to explain.

There's a fine line between having an opinion and voicing it - that line being the opening you'll find situated under your nose but above your chin - but there isn't such a fine line between voicing your opinion and being a critic. What difference is that? You may be asking. Simple: The amount of effort you put into your analysis.

"I liked this movie." Good for you. Why? When did you see it? With whom did you see it? What about it lead you to like it? What about it kept you from loving it? These are the basic building blocks of any review that intends to critique. Being a critic is more than having an opinion, it's about voicing that opinion in a manner that not only analyzes the film in question, it also tackles the difficult task of self-evaluation - the various factors in ones life that lead them to their conclusion.

Without those, I'm sorry to say, but your voice lends little to the topic. That's not to say your opinion isn't important, it is. Rather, without these various qualifiers, you offer nothing to others that they can take away from the conversation other than the knowledge that you liked it. A lot of good that will do them unless they happen to keep detailed records of what movies you like and dislike, why you did so, and can easily cross reference those with their own opinion to see how that works out. Sorry, no dice. You've basically just voiced your opinion because you wanted people to know it, so they can turn around and quickly forget it.

Now, voicing your opinion is a great way to start a review, or engage in a critical discussion. That's fine. In fact, if anything that's a good thing. But lots of people don't. They only go so far as the base level "I LOVED THIS MOVIE" with a quick "ME TOO!" response, and a brief 'how awesome was it when X happened.' Those conversations are all well and good, but please don't confuse them for critical thought. I'd hate to see you in a philosophy class trying to explain why you think deontologicalism fails to capture weighted outcomes even if the immediacy, with respect to morality of the decision at hand, seems apparent. If you're saying to yourself right now 'well, I don't care about philosophy so this obviously doesn't apply to me' then you're missing the point.

Honestly, many people don't accept the notion that opinions are anything other than gut reactions. The possibility of false perception/interpretation or populous influence is brushed aside in favor of the speed with which they can type their opinion in all caps. A critic should accept that there are any number of factors which play a part in the formation of their opinion and evaluate them with how they relate to the various components of the film. For example: a scene in the film displays a man hitting a woman to prevent her from acting 'wimpy' - something one might find offensive - a critic will take that feeling and formulate a reasoning around it. Lots of people will acknowledge that feeling, allow it to affect their opinion, and then not look at any further, settling on the weakened opinion as just being 'their opinion.'

So, why is it important to be a critic? Simple: Social Acceptance. Whether you think it or not, your ability to analyze and dissect something, presenting what you like and don't like about it, has a strong impact on what we as a society will tolerate. If you settle for merely 'liking' something, but don't voice your distaste for what you don't like about it, than there is no measurement by which anyone can say those generally disliked aspects need to stop. The same applies for increasing the likelihood for those pieces of a film that you demonstrably enjoy. Hollywood is in the business of making money, and if people are capable of telling them what aspects of a movie they saw will increase their chances of seeing another movie, Hollywood will acknowledge and adjust accordingly. If you don't, which is far too often the case now, Hollywood goes with a best guess and just rips whatever it can from the movie without paying attention to what it is about it that makes it special.

Your ability to express your opinion in a useful way is paramount to how the world operates. When you settle, you're not only weakening the discourse on the whole. You're allowing for those with more radical ideals to be louder. The less of you who try, the louder they get, until even the most resolute can't be heard. And then everyone loses.

Tunes For a Desert Island

Bad things happen when you're trapped on a desert island. You begin talking to a volleyball, get stuck with your sworn enemy with whom you share no common language, fall in love with Brooke Shields, run into polar bears, and of course the inevitable clash with Michael Emerson. However, all of that happens later. Right now you're still smoking from the explosion, you've got a limp, and are weighing your udder distaste for seafood against the possibility of this island lacking a Steak n' Snake or Pizza Hut. Tough times lay ahead. So what do you need? The right CD to carry you onward. Without it, all you'll find your stay quite an uncomfortable one. However by some incalculable odds of fate, the on CD that survives this whole ordeal happens to contain 12 tracks, all from movie soundtracks. It's almost like this scenario is entirely hypothetical. As if, happened to me just the other day. Thank god I was rescued by those... I think they called themselves 'Somali Pirates' or something like that. We're still working out some of the 'kinks' in the conversation but I think it's going rather well.

I'm rambling, aren't I? I suppose you're there just thinking 'shut up and tell me your 12 tracks.' Fine. Here they are.

1. Cast Away, End Credits by Alan Silvestri - Cast Away
- Because I'm a sucker for irony


2. Superfly by Curtis Mayfield - Superfly
- Because it's Curtis F*@(!#*@ Mayfield and Superfly!


3. Mrs. Robinson by Simon and Garfunkel - The Graduate
- Do you even know me? I would go crazy without a bit of Simon and Garfunkel!
LISTEN HERE

4. The Blue Danube Waltz by Johan Strauss - 2001: A Space Odyssey
- Oh Johan Strauss, you devil you. True pioneer of aviation.


5. Tiny Dancer by Elton John - Almost Famous
- Any chance I can call in a substitution on Brooke Shields for Kate Hudson?
LISTEN HERE!

6. I Believe by Stevie Wonder - High Fidelity
- Simply put, I love this song.
LISTEN HERE!

7. Eye of the Tiger by Survivor - Rocky III
- For those days when I feel like working out like a boss.
LISTEN HERE!

8. Ecstasy of Gold by Ennio Morricone - The Good, The Bad and the Ugly
- I would marry this entire soundtrack, let alone this tune!


9. The Untouchables Main Theme by Ennio Morricone - The Untouchables
- You always double down on Ennio Morricone - universal rule.


10. New Slang by The Shins - Garden State
- Wait, it is a requirement to have at least one song from Garden State, right?


11. Gondola No Uta by Takashi Shimura - Ikiru
- For those moments of great introspection and sadness. I'll accept this one might be a bit of a cheat since they never really did soundtracks, but I'm willing to stand by it.


12. Into the West by Annie Lennox - Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King
- Perfect capping off for any journey, no matter what.

Thank you for going on this journey with me. Be sure you check out all the lists over at Anomalous Material!

The 10 Minute Sale and Chinatown

I wouldn't dare begin to count the number of times I am asked to name "one classic film you haven't seen" in a year. Yet, as per custom would dictate, I always give an answer. But I have to admit, I'm very seldom 100% honest with it. Yes, the movies I name are classics, and they are ones I haven't seen. So in that regard I'm golden. However, I'm not answering the question with the utmost regard to its original intention. That being, the desired "name one movie that just about everyone who is anyone has seen that you haven't so I can go 'wow, you haven't seen that!?'" Trust me on this, experience dictates that's the flow of that conversation about 90% of the time. The other 10% being on the rare 'me neither' reply scenarios.

What often transpires after these conversational setups are what I call the '10 minute sale.' Following your admission on a classic you have failed to see, most bloggers will begin telling you all the reasons you should see it, followed by their opinion on the film, and if you're unlucky a handful of spoilers tossed into the mix. If you're lucky you get a sound 'I'm not going to say anything, just go see it now' reply.

The problem is, like many bloggers I fall into the former category. It's no fun typing 'just see it' over and over again until your head begins to spin and your hands start doing it on autopilot. "How was your day?" "Just see it" conversations take hold and your family and (social network) pals begin to look at you funny. So, we go into detail and try to amp up the film in the hope of building up their desire to see it, in turn controlling their mental viewing queue. It's the side effects we don't often see.

When I first admitted years ago that I hadn't seen Chinatown, I got a speech that would make Rush Limbaugh seem tame and short-winded from a fellow blogging buddy. The movie just so happened to be his all time favorite film, and that's where I went wrong. The depth to which he analyzed, described, and preached the movie to me was a 9 on the Lean-length-scale. It was all incredibly insightful and technical stuff, and at the time I lacked the heart (or courage) to say 'just shut up and let me watch it.' So I've spent the last few years meticulously trying to forget everything (for the most part) that he told me.

I fully understand where he was coming from. You mention you haven't seen a Kurosawa film and I'll whip out the soap box quicker than Charlie Sheen at a 'winner' convention. But in some cases I don't want to get that speech. You'll either have created a level of expectation that in no realistic way the movie could ever live up to, or you'll have given away so much that me watching it will be diluted into me 'waiting for moments' to happen.

Neither of which are conducive to an optimal movie watching experience. However, I don't think the '10 Minute Sale' is necessarily a bad thing. It is human nature to want to express things to which we are passionate about, and so it should come as no surprise that we take an opportunity to do so. Just don't be surprised if I'm not a hundred percent honest because I want to avoid getting it... or even worse, asking you to shut up about it. And of course, don't be afraid to return onto me the same treatment.

Laugh With You, And At You

As of late I've become increasingly aware of a certain personality trait I possess. While I can't say whether or not its a universal one we all share, I can say it's not one I run into often. Basically, I often find myself, mostly due to my satirical and ranting nature, going on with people in a joking manner, mocking certain films. Not a rarity in the blogging community by a longshot, I would say. Yet, it has been my experience that people pretty much stick to films that they dislike when dealing with mocking. I don't. I can spend an afternoon tearing apart a Smurf vs. Na'Vi battle on twitter, then cap off the evening with a better, who would be better in bed: Ian McKellen or Dumbledore (for the record, IM all the way).

All the while, I fully enjoy my Harry Potter, LOTR, Smurf tv shows, and a bit of Avatar goes down just fine. I don't mind spending the morning taking sly jabs at Cars then the evening cheering on Lightning McQueen in a high octane race. Why? I suppose I just enjoy making fun of things. It's in my nature to look at something and immediately think of all possible comical associations I can. By the same token, its in my nature to look at that same thing and think whether or not its of any noteworthy quality.

The two aspects of my personality aren't entirely separate, but I don't believe they have to overlap. I can perfectly well make fun of the Hyena laughter from Rashomon, then spend a week debating the conflicting battle between reality and morality the film spins. But I'm also aware that lots of people don't do this, and in turn find it odd. As if somehow me making fun of a film is of equal measure as me stating my disinterest towards it - or worse yet mocking them for enjoying it. I'd like to say right now - it's not. No offense, but when I go into the 'make fun of movies mode' I don't think to myself "well, I better not offend X, he likes this movie."

The reason I don't think that? Simple. Because when I go to make fun of a film, I'm simply making fun of it. I take the piss out of Twilight daily, but I still stand by my original 5/10. Jersey Shore, that show is made to be insulted, but I enjoyed the two episodes I saw (sorry people, two was enough - I have a natural allergic reaction to that much oil). The fine line between insulting a film and insulting people who enjoy it only exists if you define yourself by that association. I love Kurosawa to death, but I don't define myself. If I see someone making fun of Kurosawa, I may just take part. Or I may retire to a corner and weep uncontrollably until I simply lack the water to go on living. It's a toss up at best.

Getting back on track. What I'm trying to say is this: it's OK to make fun of movies without making fun of people who enjoy movies. It's even OK to make fun of your own favorite movies. Yes, you're allowed to re-imagine the awesomeness that would be The Good, The Bad and the Ugly with Tom Cruise, Bob Dylan, and Emilio Estevez instead of Eastwood, Van Cleef, and Wallach. It's your right, and I cheer you for doing it. Because I'm going to be honest and say yes, if you have a favorite movies, odds are I've made fun of it. If I've seen it. But that's not really necessary. Just don't think I'm making fun of you. Trust me, when I am, you'll know it.

Welcome to Nostalgiaville

This weekend I got into a discussion on the 'myth' of classic Hollywood. Both parties in agreement, we talked about this false perception that films which pre-date a certain 'modern' timeframe were all bubblegum and happy endings. The crux of the argument being that these days movies are too real and dark. You know, because all the big blockbusters last year were these really depressing films. Darn you Alice in Wonderland!

Or as I like to call this argument: "Nostalgic Stupidity." There are very few people among us who are not nostalgic on some level, and with the mass opportunity for people to watch films now from all different eras we've given birth to nostalgia for times that haven't even taken place in our lifetime. The problem: These are generally based on wrong assumptions. If you go back to films like Petrified Forest, The Sand Pebbles, Bridge on the River Kwai, Citizen Kane, and pretty much the entire collection of Film Noir, you'll quickly note that there exists no time in the history of cinema where good guys "always" prevailed; now left to dramatically ride off into the sunset and kiss the girl.

Sure, it's a lot nicer to think that way, but it's not a reality - something you seem to be trying desperately hard to escape. My argument though, has nothing to do with that. What I would instead like to say is this - please calm down on the high nostalgia factor. You're perfectly entitled to prefer classics, even classics that only have happy endings, but to assume that your preference for those generalizes to all cinema of the time is not only asinine, it's insulting to those who brought those very films to life.

From the dawn of cinema until now, movies have always found balance between realism and surrealism, and happiness and sadness. To say there existed this idealistic time in which all films were always cheerful is make the claim that any film not conforming to your view might as well not have existed at all. And if that is what you truly want, then I feel sorry for all those who come into discourse with you.

Film Criticism vs. Social Criticism

We've all done it. Each and every one of us. We looked at a group of people associated with liking a particular aspect of society and thought, "no way in hell do I want to be associated with them." It's a rather simple thought. One whose recurrence can be traced throughout the history of ourselves and the history of civilization. Unfortunately, the consequences of that thought reach out into the fabric of our very opinions. Skewing our view into a far more negative and spiteful manner.

Believe it or not, this spills over far too often into the realm of mainstream film criticism. From people who believe they are superior for liking some movies to those who believe they likewise because they don't. There are those of us who won't watch certain films simply because of these associations. Then there are those of us who refuse to like films because of them. It's a debilitating perception that fails to capture the essence of what film criticism should be.

As I've said before, we are not unique entities, separable from the societal influences that surround us. So it should stand to reason that any review of any film is likely to have some aspect of social criticism trickled throughout. Yet, it is important to note the fine line between criticizing a film based on the influences and basing your criticism of a film on your perceptions.

The difference: one is an inherent quality fixed at the time of viewing, the other is a variable quality with high fluctuation. For example, if you're surrounded by four people you generally dislike and they're raving about a film they just saw, odds are you're going to build an immediate negative association with the film. Let's say you go and watch it, and your brain takes that negative association and applies it to the film. You're not watching the movie, you're watching for the negatives of the movie. Not a good way to go about things, and it will be reflected in your review.

Now, fast forward a few years. You've changed your surroundings some and are now surrounded by people you think highly of, and they love the movie. That original negative association slowly breaks apart, and eventually you garner the gumption to watch it again. However, you're still not watching the movie. This time you're looking for positive associations with the movie in an effort to fulfill your mind social influences. It's a mind boggling world of contradictions.

I would like to say that's really the end of it, but I've found that people tend to not draw the line at the viewing. I've seen people write a positive review of a movie, then go out into social situations and suddenly pull a 180 due to the various influences and external associations they encounter. Sometimes these are valid alterations, perhaps due to a missed observation brought to light. But I would argue that is an exception, and not the rule. More often than not I find people are willing to bend this opinion just because it conforms best to their desired surroundings. "Want to bash the hipster group? Step right up and use this film as your pedestal. How about people who disagree with your political affiliations? Well this film is the one for you!"

Who cares that you enjoyed the movie perfectly fine in absence of this extraneous, usually nauseating in their high limiting ability, perceptions? You get a chance to take a few jabs at people you don't like through the medium of a film review. So take that arbitrarily defined subsection of society who likely only make up a small percentage of actual fans!

Temet Nosce - 'Know Thyself'

As someone who spends an inordinate amount of time watching, and engaging in, film criticism and discussion, I find one of the most unique aspects of the process lies in the method one chooses to present their opinions. Some are authoritative. A "this is not my opinion, it is THE opinion" approach that tends to gravitate readers on the power of sheer self-confidence. Another approach some adopt is the objective intellectual. They don't so much as state what they like or dislike, but analyze the film from a moral or scientific standpoint, applying positives and negatives to its ability to appropriately convey the material. Whatever the method one adopts, I can safely say that few do it inexorably.

You see, I've noticed a growing trend in film criticism of the preventative review. "Well, I know lots of people liked the film, but I didn't" - or vice versa - becomes the foundation of the review itself. In essence, the reviewer is attempting to deflect potential criticism of their review with a preposition that acknowledged they are in the minority. I can't help but feel as if this is a method intended to downplay the review's own importance in the grand scheme of reviews while at the same time defending the integrity of that review. Not a double standard, but a befuddling standard all the same.

This is a very defensive position on one's own opinion. "People might not agree with me, therefore I must make it known that I don't really matter so they don't get mad." That's not reviewing, it's cowering. But it's not a unique case. Throughout the internet people feel the need to deflect and protect their opinion as if it was under constant bombardment from other people's opinions. "I didn't like X" gets met with "WELL I DID AND I DON'T CARE!!!" Who says that even if you did care, it should matter at all? Let alone, why does my not liking a film evoke such a strong need by you to declare that you did? I'm glad my opinion doesn't sway you, but simply informing me that you enjoyed the movie that I didn't more than covers our conversational needs. From there we can traverse our likes and dislikes and come to amiable, even if differing, conclusion.

However, I don't feel as if this is something that just appeared out of nowhere. Inherent in a defensive mindset is the prospect, or actuality, of an attack of some sort. And, well, you don't have to go far on the internet to find that. We love to attack anything and indeed everything. "You don't like your apples dipped in honey on the third tuesday of every sixth month? What the hell is wrong with you!?" OK that might be an extreme example, but that's just my way.

My belief is that because movies are well balanced with respect to personal and social associations, we struggle in deciphering how that should impact our opinion, especially with respect to those of others. If I enjoy bananas, I eat them and go on about my day. I don't talk to everyone about how much I love them, start a blog about my bananas, join some communities, and share a variety of banana tips. And I honestly don't know anyone who does (though I don't doubt someone does). Yet that's the difference with films. When you watch a movie, you seek out the opinions of others and begin a filtering process of what you agree and disagree with. The more extreme you find yourself from, or with, the prevailing opinions of those around you the greater the desire to speak up in offense or defense rises. It's a very natural reaction, but one I feel that's become overblown.

There are certain things I believe are perfectly arguable opinions. Politics or philosophy where there may not be a clear 'right' answer, but a logical or logistical solution may be derived through well placed criticism may be the perfect venue for an offensive/defensive approach. But I would say not films. Too often these days we've chopped at the thin line between stating one's opinion and defending it. If I say I like a movie and proceed to explain why, it's quite a different take from having to constantly defend that stance because people are unwilling, or unable, to accept it. But that's where we are. Despite our large collection of varying opinions, people still struggle (myself included) to accept certain opinions from others.

Perhaps it is because we greatly desire others to see things our way. Perhaps it's because we fear social exile should we fail to correlate strongly. Who knows. All I can say is this - please, remember, your opinion is just as valid as any other, even if they are polar opposites. With film, subjectivity has always been a crucial component, and will continue to be so. Except with me of course, because we all know I'm always right. :)