WHOO-HOO!
Rarely have I taken such pleasure in being wrong: Lost in Translation will indeed be opening at a theater...well, maybe not near me, but close enough.
And as if to make sure this movie-related happiness is stomped into the ground and crushed before it can blossom into full-blown optimism, New Line has announced that the long-awaited Return of the King trailer will appear in theaters starting tomorrow...with Secondhand Lions. Yeah, fuck you, too.
I thought about the army
Dad said, "Son, you're fuckin' high"
Tuesday, September 23, 2003
To answer someone's question: No, I'm not reviewing Underworld. I might write up a paragraph or two for one of my end-of-month capsule reviews, should I choose to do one. But otherwise, you'll have to do with just the knowledge that I hated it with the furious intensity of a thousand suns, and that's all. Sorry.
Album of the week: Some Devil, Dave Matthews. Good stuff. Not that radical a departure from DMB stuff, but different enough. It's spectacular.
And Lost in Translation will, most likely, not open anywhere in this state, thus depriving me of yet another critically adored film. AARGH!
Gravedigger, when you dig my grave
Could you make it shallow
So that I can feel the rain?
Album of the week: Some Devil, Dave Matthews. Good stuff. Not that radical a departure from DMB stuff, but different enough. It's spectacular.
And Lost in Translation will, most likely, not open anywhere in this state, thus depriving me of yet another critically adored film. AARGH!
Gravedigger, when you dig my grave
Could you make it shallow
So that I can feel the rain?
Sunday, September 21, 2003
During a screening of Underworld....
My friend Robert: "So, why do the vampires have to be the good guys?"
Me: "Um....because Kate Beckinsale is a vampire. And she's really hot."
Robert: "Oh."
Holy crap, did I hate Underworld. I mean, I knew it was going to be bad, but...damn. The worst movie I've seen all year, and that includes Jeepers Creepers 2. And when a flying, cannibalistic homosexual rapist in a stupid hat has you beat, you suck pretty badly, don't you? But seriously, a horrible script, goofy FX, and atrocious acting all lead up to a definite Worst Picture of the Year candidate. I'm stunned White Wolf would sue: why would they want people to believe they were in any way responsible for this horrible piece of shit (though I do believe they have something of a case)?
You know what's a cool feeling? When two friends of yours have been wracking their brains on a puzzle in Silent Hill 3 for seven hours (yeah, seven hours), then you show up and solve it in ten minutes. That's a cool feeling. The not-cool part of it is that now I want to play SH3 again really bad.
If you want to destroy my sweater
Hold this thread as I walk away
My friend Robert: "So, why do the vampires have to be the good guys?"
Me: "Um....because Kate Beckinsale is a vampire. And she's really hot."
Robert: "Oh."
Holy crap, did I hate Underworld. I mean, I knew it was going to be bad, but...damn. The worst movie I've seen all year, and that includes Jeepers Creepers 2. And when a flying, cannibalistic homosexual rapist in a stupid hat has you beat, you suck pretty badly, don't you? But seriously, a horrible script, goofy FX, and atrocious acting all lead up to a definite Worst Picture of the Year candidate. I'm stunned White Wolf would sue: why would they want people to believe they were in any way responsible for this horrible piece of shit (though I do believe they have something of a case)?
You know what's a cool feeling? When two friends of yours have been wracking their brains on a puzzle in Silent Hill 3 for seven hours (yeah, seven hours), then you show up and solve it in ten minutes. That's a cool feeling. The not-cool part of it is that now I want to play SH3 again really bad.
If you want to destroy my sweater
Hold this thread as I walk away
Wednesday, September 17, 2003
Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan
(Essential #73)
A question: when the Reliant attacks the Enterprise, and that engineering cadet (who is Scotty's nephew according to the novelization) is mortally wounded, why the hell does Scotty bring him to the bridge? I mean, to get to the bridge from Engineering, you have to pass Sickbay. What's going on here?
Ah, Star Trek. One of my earliest movie-related memories is lying on the floor of our apartment in Canoga Park, California, pretending to be asleep while my mom watched Star Trek V. Perhaps it would have been better for my sanity if I actually had slept instead of watching a film directed by William Shatner, but I was hooked. Right there, I was instantly a Star Trek geek.
Our cultural landscape is littered with movies adapted from popular television shows -- Charlie's Angels, Scooby Doo, S.W.A.T. -- but most are disasters. The only series to truly breakthrough and suceed on the big screen was Star Trek (unless you count Maverick, which I loved but not too many others did). But it wasn't easy for Gene Roddenberry's creation: the first film, Star Trek: The Motion Picture, was a slow, ponderous mess that was so awful that I'm surprised they greenlit a sequel.
But oh, thank Paramount they did, because Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan obliterates the bad memories of the turgid first film. Leaving behind that movie's "We are making serious science fiction" tone, director Nicholas Meyer injects Khan with the thing that made the series great in the first place: the interaction between Kirk (William Shatner), Spock (Leonard Nemoy), and Doctor "Bones" McCoy (DeForest Kelley). He then throws in some great action, an outstanding villain, and one hell of a shocking climax, and ends up with what is arguably the best of the Trek films.
His days of galavanting across the galaxy long since passed, Kirk (now an Admiral) presides over Starfleet Academy, grading the cadets under Spock's tutilage. He projects a happy air -- "Galloping around the cosmos is a game for the young," he tells McCoy -- but everyone can tell he'd rather be doing just that.
Be careful what you wish for: while scouting locations to test the experimental Genesis device -- a bomb that creates life, rather than destroying it -- Chekov (Walter Koening) and the crew of the Reliant stumble upon the shelter of Khan Singh (the gloriously over-the-top Ricardo Montalban) and his crew. A genetically-engineered superman from Earth, Khan was marooned on this barren world decades ago by Kirk (in the episode "Space Seed"), and now he wants vengeance. He implants worms (don't ask) in the brains of Chekov and Captain Terrell (Paul Winfield) and takes over the Reliant, heading for his revenge and to pick up the Genesis device, which he admires for its destructive capabilites more than the creation.
The Enterprise, on a training cruise and staffed almost entirely by cadets, is somehow "the only ship in the quadrant" and must respond to the situation. In addition to meeting up with Khan, Kirk finds the creators of Genesis: Carol Marcus (Bibi Besch), who happens to be a former lover; and her son, David (Merritt Butrick), who happens to be the result of that affair. There is much technobabble, phaser fights, exploding computer consoles, and angst from Shatner (this is probably his best performance...for what that's worth).
Montalban gives Khan everything he has, and the result is magnificent. He quotes Shakespeare and Moby Dick, says "I will avenge you!" when a crewman falls, and gives us dubious Klingon proverbs: "Revenge is a dish best served cold." (That's actually Spanish.) The tension and rage between he and Kirk is impressive, especially considering that not once in the film are the two in the same room together.
While the later films excelled with their special effects, Khan is not nearly as impressive. The budget was rather tight, and it shows -- a shot of approaching Klingon battle cruisers is footage from the first film, and the bridges of the Reliant and the Enterprise are the exact same set with different lighting. When fake heads are used in the ear worm scenes, the difference is very noticable.
But where the film fails in effects, it makes up in character. The script crackles with wonderful exchanges (Kirk: "I would not presume to debate you." Spock: "That would be wise.") and the performances are great all around. Of all the Trek films, this is the most important -- without a success here, we probably wouldn't have seen the birth of The Next Generation five years later, nor would we get any of the even-numbered films that we would love later on (the odd-numbered movies all suck). Of course, we wouldn't have had to endure Star Trek V, either...but I think the trade-off is worth it.
Oh, and another question: when Carol tries to signal Kirk, Uhura tells him the signal is "jammed at the source." But previous dialogue says that the Reliant and Khan -- who is presumably the one doing the jamming -- won't reach the station for three days. What's going on there?
A question: when the Reliant attacks the Enterprise, and that engineering cadet (who is Scotty's nephew according to the novelization) is mortally wounded, why the hell does Scotty bring him to the bridge? I mean, to get to the bridge from Engineering, you have to pass Sickbay. What's going on here?
Ah, Star Trek. One of my earliest movie-related memories is lying on the floor of our apartment in Canoga Park, California, pretending to be asleep while my mom watched Star Trek V. Perhaps it would have been better for my sanity if I actually had slept instead of watching a film directed by William Shatner, but I was hooked. Right there, I was instantly a Star Trek geek.
Our cultural landscape is littered with movies adapted from popular television shows -- Charlie's Angels, Scooby Doo, S.W.A.T. -- but most are disasters. The only series to truly breakthrough and suceed on the big screen was Star Trek (unless you count Maverick, which I loved but not too many others did). But it wasn't easy for Gene Roddenberry's creation: the first film, Star Trek: The Motion Picture, was a slow, ponderous mess that was so awful that I'm surprised they greenlit a sequel.
But oh, thank Paramount they did, because Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan obliterates the bad memories of the turgid first film. Leaving behind that movie's "We are making serious science fiction" tone, director Nicholas Meyer injects Khan with the thing that made the series great in the first place: the interaction between Kirk (William Shatner), Spock (Leonard Nemoy), and Doctor "Bones" McCoy (DeForest Kelley). He then throws in some great action, an outstanding villain, and one hell of a shocking climax, and ends up with what is arguably the best of the Trek films.
Classic scene: Spock's final moments. "I have been and always will be your friend. Live long...and prosper..." |
His days of galavanting across the galaxy long since passed, Kirk (now an Admiral) presides over Starfleet Academy, grading the cadets under Spock's tutilage. He projects a happy air -- "Galloping around the cosmos is a game for the young," he tells McCoy -- but everyone can tell he'd rather be doing just that.
Be careful what you wish for: while scouting locations to test the experimental Genesis device -- a bomb that creates life, rather than destroying it -- Chekov (Walter Koening) and the crew of the Reliant stumble upon the shelter of Khan Singh (the gloriously over-the-top Ricardo Montalban) and his crew. A genetically-engineered superman from Earth, Khan was marooned on this barren world decades ago by Kirk (in the episode "Space Seed"), and now he wants vengeance. He implants worms (don't ask) in the brains of Chekov and Captain Terrell (Paul Winfield) and takes over the Reliant, heading for his revenge and to pick up the Genesis device, which he admires for its destructive capabilites more than the creation.
The Enterprise, on a training cruise and staffed almost entirely by cadets, is somehow "the only ship in the quadrant" and must respond to the situation. In addition to meeting up with Khan, Kirk finds the creators of Genesis: Carol Marcus (Bibi Besch), who happens to be a former lover; and her son, David (Merritt Butrick), who happens to be the result of that affair. There is much technobabble, phaser fights, exploding computer consoles, and angst from Shatner (this is probably his best performance...for what that's worth).
Montalban gives Khan everything he has, and the result is magnificent. He quotes Shakespeare and Moby Dick, says "I will avenge you!" when a crewman falls, and gives us dubious Klingon proverbs: "Revenge is a dish best served cold." (That's actually Spanish.) The tension and rage between he and Kirk is impressive, especially considering that not once in the film are the two in the same room together.
Random triviata: The painting of San Francisco that serves as the background during the scene in Kirk's apartment was originally used in The Towering Inferno. |
While the later films excelled with their special effects, Khan is not nearly as impressive. The budget was rather tight, and it shows -- a shot of approaching Klingon battle cruisers is footage from the first film, and the bridges of the Reliant and the Enterprise are the exact same set with different lighting. When fake heads are used in the ear worm scenes, the difference is very noticable.
But where the film fails in effects, it makes up in character. The script crackles with wonderful exchanges (Kirk: "I would not presume to debate you." Spock: "That would be wise.") and the performances are great all around. Of all the Trek films, this is the most important -- without a success here, we probably wouldn't have seen the birth of The Next Generation five years later, nor would we get any of the even-numbered films that we would love later on (the odd-numbered movies all suck). Of course, we wouldn't have had to endure Star Trek V, either...but I think the trade-off is worth it.
Oh, and another question: when Carol tries to signal Kirk, Uhura tells him the signal is "jammed at the source." But previous dialogue says that the Reliant and Khan -- who is presumably the one doing the jamming -- won't reach the station for three days. What's going on there?
Once Upon a Time in Mexico
Might as well get this out of the way right now: I've never seen El Mariachi. And I've only seen about twenty minutes or so of Desperado, and I didn't like it. So I'm not entirely sure why I was looking forward to this movie as much as I was...but I bet it had something to do with Johnny Depp. Though I've always admired his work, I've never big the biggest of Depp fans until this summer, when Pirates of the Caribbean dropped and Jack Sparrow blew everyone away. So I found myself highly intrigued in his follow-up, which also happened to be the final film in Robert Rodriguez's "El Mariachi" trilogy.
And maybe my Depp focus had something to do with my opinion of the final product, but once again, this movie belongs to Johnny. Sure, his Sands (a CIA operative) is really just a supporting character, but Depp's performance is spellbinding. When he's onscreen, the movie crackles with life; when he's off, you're waiting for him to come back.
I could try to tell you the plot, but I really couldn't discern much of it myself. Sands hires the legendary El Mariachi (Antonio Banderas) to hit a Mexican general (Gerardo Vigil). El, as he's called ("as in the," Sands is told), already has a good reason to waste the guy: he killed his wife (Salma Hayek) and his daughter. But Sands wants El to kill him only after the general as already killed the President of Mexico (Pedro Armendáriz Jr.) in an attempted coup. Somehow, another Mexican general (Willam Dafoe) ties into all of this, as does a one-eyed man (Cheech Marin), a retired FBI agent (Ruben Blades), and a little dog belonging to Mickey Rourke.
It's nearly impossible to follow, but Rodriguez keeps it moving along fairly quickly. Rodriguez is the cinematic equivalent of Trent Reznor -- he directed the film, wrote the script, operated the camera, composed the music, and edited the picture himself (or, as he terms it in the opening credits, "shot, chopped and scored"). And while it's impressive to see someone take that much control over a film (when the credit says "A Robert Rodriguez Flick," it's the truth), the film suffers a bit from that single-mindedness. Sometimes, collaboration can be a good thing; another writer, for instance, may have been able to convince him to thin out -- or at least clarify -- his narrative. Rodriguez is all alone, essentially creating this film in his garage, and it has the self-indulgent feel of someone operating without a bullshit detector.
If it sounds like I'm writing the film off, I'm not. Once Upon a Time in Mexico really is a blast. The action scenes are a lot of fun, even if I wasn't always certain why the various people were trying to kill one another, and they haven't the slightest touch of The Matrix in them anywhere, to my great relief. Banderas has a smothering intensity that perfectly embodies his character, and Mickey Rourke manages to get a lot more mileage than you'd think he could out of carrying around a little dog.
But I keep coming back to Depp. There's something about him: standing there, watching a bullfight, wearing a CIA t-shirt, Sands commands the attention of the audience. He's funny, he's dangerous, and he's probably a little bit insane...Sands, I mean, not Depp. But this character is so much fun that the rest of the movie actually suffers in comparison -- I like Willem Dafoe as much as the next guy, but he's totally forgotten about the second he leaves the frame, while Sands becomes what truly makes Mexico worth watching. Technically, I think he's supposed to be a bad guy (who can tell with this script?), but I was rooting for him all the way.
So Robert Rodriguez may have done everything on this picture short of painting the sets and acting as chauffeur, but Johnny Depp wanders onto the screen and steals it all for himself. It may be a "Robert Rodriguez Flick," but it's a Johnny Depp picture. Somebody give this man an Oscar.
Rating: ***1/2
And maybe my Depp focus had something to do with my opinion of the final product, but once again, this movie belongs to Johnny. Sure, his Sands (a CIA operative) is really just a supporting character, but Depp's performance is spellbinding. When he's onscreen, the movie crackles with life; when he's off, you're waiting for him to come back.
I could try to tell you the plot, but I really couldn't discern much of it myself. Sands hires the legendary El Mariachi (Antonio Banderas) to hit a Mexican general (Gerardo Vigil). El, as he's called ("as in the," Sands is told), already has a good reason to waste the guy: he killed his wife (Salma Hayek) and his daughter. But Sands wants El to kill him only after the general as already killed the President of Mexico (Pedro Armendáriz Jr.) in an attempted coup. Somehow, another Mexican general (Willam Dafoe) ties into all of this, as does a one-eyed man (Cheech Marin), a retired FBI agent (Ruben Blades), and a little dog belonging to Mickey Rourke.
It's nearly impossible to follow, but Rodriguez keeps it moving along fairly quickly. Rodriguez is the cinematic equivalent of Trent Reznor -- he directed the film, wrote the script, operated the camera, composed the music, and edited the picture himself (or, as he terms it in the opening credits, "shot, chopped and scored"). And while it's impressive to see someone take that much control over a film (when the credit says "A Robert Rodriguez Flick," it's the truth), the film suffers a bit from that single-mindedness. Sometimes, collaboration can be a good thing; another writer, for instance, may have been able to convince him to thin out -- or at least clarify -- his narrative. Rodriguez is all alone, essentially creating this film in his garage, and it has the self-indulgent feel of someone operating without a bullshit detector.
If it sounds like I'm writing the film off, I'm not. Once Upon a Time in Mexico really is a blast. The action scenes are a lot of fun, even if I wasn't always certain why the various people were trying to kill one another, and they haven't the slightest touch of The Matrix in them anywhere, to my great relief. Banderas has a smothering intensity that perfectly embodies his character, and Mickey Rourke manages to get a lot more mileage than you'd think he could out of carrying around a little dog.
But I keep coming back to Depp. There's something about him: standing there, watching a bullfight, wearing a CIA t-shirt, Sands commands the attention of the audience. He's funny, he's dangerous, and he's probably a little bit insane...Sands, I mean, not Depp. But this character is so much fun that the rest of the movie actually suffers in comparison -- I like Willem Dafoe as much as the next guy, but he's totally forgotten about the second he leaves the frame, while Sands becomes what truly makes Mexico worth watching. Technically, I think he's supposed to be a bad guy (who can tell with this script?), but I was rooting for him all the way.
So Robert Rodriguez may have done everything on this picture short of painting the sets and acting as chauffeur, but Johnny Depp wanders onto the screen and steals it all for himself. It may be a "Robert Rodriguez Flick," but it's a Johnny Depp picture. Somebody give this man an Oscar.
Rating: ***1/2
Tuesday, September 16, 2003
Johnny Depp: my new hero. Read my review of Once Upon a Time in Mexico to find out why.
It appears that one of Depp's upcoming projects is the film adaptation of Stephen King's Secret Window, Secret Garden. This is yet more GOOD NEWS, folks.
And Metal Gear Solid 2: Substance is a work of exquisite evil. I will defeat thy evil VR missions! I swear to it!
I hurt myself today
To see if I still feel
It appears that one of Depp's upcoming projects is the film adaptation of Stephen King's Secret Window, Secret Garden. This is yet more GOOD NEWS, folks.
And Metal Gear Solid 2: Substance is a work of exquisite evil. I will defeat thy evil VR missions! I swear to it!
I hurt myself today
To see if I still feel
Saturday, September 13, 2003
I saw a film today, oh boy
I scraped together some quarters today, headed down to Movies 12 and saw Matchstick Men. Talk about a pleasant surprise. Consider me back on the Nick Cage bandwagon after this and Adaptation. But the best part here is Alison Lohman, who is wonderful as Cage's long-lost daughter. And Ridley Scott's visual style is superb. Call it ****...only the second movie I've seen in theaters this year to reach that. Blech.
But good news: there are good movies on the horizon. Some of the ones I'm looking forward to, in order of can't-wait-edness....
The Return of the King -- Who isn't waiting for this?
Kill Bill, Vol. 1 -- So I'm a Tarantino mark. This still looks awesome.
Mystic River -- Good lord, have you seen this cast? Plus Eastwood behind the camera? I am SO there.
Intolerable Cruelty -- Yeah, the trailer doesn't exactly inspire confidence, but it's the Coens! How bad could it be? ...Don't answer that.
Cold Mountain -- Nicole Kidman, directed by Anthony Minghella. That's all I know, but that's enough for me.
Love, Actually -- Yet another great cast. Yeah, it's a romantic comedy. So what?
The Rundown -- Call me crazy, but I loved the trailer. So the Rock's filmography is less than spectacular, but it's way better than Hogan's.
The Last Samurai -- The full trailer I saw today cemented it -- this is gonna be either really good or really bad. Either way, I can't wait.
Once Upon a Time in Mexico -- ...hey, that opened today, didn't it? All right!
The Matrix Revolutions -- sure, Reloaded was only barely a success, but I'm still optmistic. Am I being foolish?
So hopefully, this awful summer will be nothing but a bad memory soon.
And though the news was rather sad
Well, I just had to laugh
I scraped together some quarters today, headed down to Movies 12 and saw Matchstick Men. Talk about a pleasant surprise. Consider me back on the Nick Cage bandwagon after this and Adaptation. But the best part here is Alison Lohman, who is wonderful as Cage's long-lost daughter. And Ridley Scott's visual style is superb. Call it ****...only the second movie I've seen in theaters this year to reach that. Blech.
But good news: there are good movies on the horizon. Some of the ones I'm looking forward to, in order of can't-wait-edness....
The Return of the King -- Who isn't waiting for this?
Kill Bill, Vol. 1 -- So I'm a Tarantino mark. This still looks awesome.
Mystic River -- Good lord, have you seen this cast? Plus Eastwood behind the camera? I am SO there.
Intolerable Cruelty -- Yeah, the trailer doesn't exactly inspire confidence, but it's the Coens! How bad could it be? ...Don't answer that.
Cold Mountain -- Nicole Kidman, directed by Anthony Minghella. That's all I know, but that's enough for me.
Love, Actually -- Yet another great cast. Yeah, it's a romantic comedy. So what?
The Rundown -- Call me crazy, but I loved the trailer. So the Rock's filmography is less than spectacular, but it's way better than Hogan's.
The Last Samurai -- The full trailer I saw today cemented it -- this is gonna be either really good or really bad. Either way, I can't wait.
Once Upon a Time in Mexico -- ...hey, that opened today, didn't it? All right!
The Matrix Revolutions -- sure, Reloaded was only barely a success, but I'm still optmistic. Am I being foolish?
So hopefully, this awful summer will be nothing but a bad memory soon.
And though the news was rather sad
Well, I just had to laugh
Friday, September 12, 2003
Thursday, September 11, 2003
Sublime moment: I'm sitting here at my computer. The score from Magnolia is playing on my CD player. And just at the point in the score where the heavy rain begins in the movie, thunder hits outside and the light rain picks up in intensity. Nice.
So I'm listening to the audio commentary on Stephen King's Storm of the Century (thank you, Robert), and it's really not terribly interesting. Sure, I love listening to King talk, but director Craig R. Baxley has nothing at all worth saying. And there are huge -- and I mean huge, ten or fifteen minutes -- gaps in the commentary, where it's just silence. Not cool. I'm about halfway through.
I'm in kind of a nostalgic mood. I've been reading over the records of our past Vampire games....ah, memories. And yes, I'm working on it. It's coming, okay? By the end of next week, I swear to you.
(If you don't know what I'm talking about, don't worry. Those who need to do.)
I've received some pleasant comments about my "Sixteenth Specimen" memoir -- thanks. I also got one "it sucked ass," but he was joking. I think.
Oh, great, it's time to get ready for work. Blech.
I know this all seems silly. I know that maybe I sound ridiculous, like maybe this is scene of the movie where the guy is trying to get ahold on the long-lost son, but this is that scene. Y'know? I think they have those scene in movies because they're true, because they really happen....Do not leave me hanging on this -- please. See...this is the scene of the movie where you help me out.
So I'm listening to the audio commentary on Stephen King's Storm of the Century (thank you, Robert), and it's really not terribly interesting. Sure, I love listening to King talk, but director Craig R. Baxley has nothing at all worth saying. And there are huge -- and I mean huge, ten or fifteen minutes -- gaps in the commentary, where it's just silence. Not cool. I'm about halfway through.
I'm in kind of a nostalgic mood. I've been reading over the records of our past Vampire games....ah, memories. And yes, I'm working on it. It's coming, okay? By the end of next week, I swear to you.
(If you don't know what I'm talking about, don't worry. Those who need to do.)
I've received some pleasant comments about my "Sixteenth Specimen" memoir -- thanks. I also got one "it sucked ass," but he was joking. I think.
Oh, great, it's time to get ready for work. Blech.
I know this all seems silly. I know that maybe I sound ridiculous, like maybe this is scene of the movie where the guy is trying to get ahold on the long-lost son, but this is that scene. Y'know? I think they have those scene in movies because they're true, because they really happen....Do not leave me hanging on this -- please. See...this is the scene of the movie where you help me out.
Wednesday, September 10, 2003
Now available for your reading pleasure....
"Now, she wanted to get an "impact" shot. She orders me to bang my head on the steering wheel. I try it out once. "No, not like that -- hard." I smash my head into the steering column at full speed. "Yeah, like that." I'm once again given the order to repeat this action until told to stop. Only this time, she kills the lights in the garage and turns on the strobe. Right in my eyes. So there I am, in a very hot garage, crashing my face into the Ford logo with a strobe light flashing through my pupils and directly into my brain. Acting: gotta love it."
"Affirmations, Cloning, and Car Crashes: The Making of 'Sixteenth Specimen'" as now been uploaded. Read it. Tell me what you think. I beg of you.
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming
"Now, she wanted to get an "impact" shot. She orders me to bang my head on the steering wheel. I try it out once. "No, not like that -- hard." I smash my head into the steering column at full speed. "Yeah, like that." I'm once again given the order to repeat this action until told to stop. Only this time, she kills the lights in the garage and turns on the strobe. Right in my eyes. So there I am, in a very hot garage, crashing my face into the Ford logo with a strobe light flashing through my pupils and directly into my brain. Acting: gotta love it."
"Affirmations, Cloning, and Car Crashes: The Making of 'Sixteenth Specimen'" as now been uploaded. Read it. Tell me what you think. I beg of you.
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming
Tuesday, September 09, 2003
Yesterday -- well, technically this morning -- while raving about Things My Girlfriend and I Have Argued About, I somehow forgot to mention the equally hilarious website, upon which the novel is loosely based.
So, White Wolf is suing the makers of Underworld for copyright infringment. I'd have to say I'm rooting for White Wolf here. Not because I think they have a case (I'd have to see Underworld first), but because (a) I love White Wolf games and (b) Underworld looks really, really bad.
I'm halfway through something for the writing section. Should be up tomorrow or Thursday.
And the Astros are going to give me a goddamn heart attack. Just so you know.
I pledge my grievance to the flag
So, White Wolf is suing the makers of Underworld for copyright infringment. I'd have to say I'm rooting for White Wolf here. Not because I think they have a case (I'd have to see Underworld first), but because (a) I love White Wolf games and (b) Underworld looks really, really bad.
I'm halfway through something for the writing section. Should be up tomorrow or Thursday.
And the Astros are going to give me a goddamn heart attack. Just so you know.
I pledge my grievance to the flag
Excuses, excuses....
On Saturday night, I made plans to see Dirty Pretty Things the following day. So it really came as no surprise to find myself Sunday evening watching The Italian Job (inexplicably in re-release) instead. It was okay -- I might write a review later.
Oh, so many things to write. I'm supposed to be writing something for this site right now (I'm the "lazy bum" described on the front page). I've got a non-fiction piece I want to do. I watched the ABC miniseries Stephen King's Storm of the Century last week; I liked it much more than I remembered, and planned to write a review. And yet nothing is done. Why? Well....
1) I've been trying to fix that image up there. That took far longer than I expected. But now that it's there, what do you think?
2) For some reason, I've been hooked on my PlayStation 2 again for the last few days (especially Metal Gear Solid 2 and WWE Smackdown). Don't know why.
3) I bought a book today: Things My Girlfriend and I Have Argued About. I can't put the damn thing down. It's open next to me as I type this. I'm glancing at it during long page loads.
Not to mention that tonight, while at work, no less than three -- three -- ideas for new things to write came to me. See, I have a lot of good ideas; they just all come to me at once.
Hopefully, I'll sort this all out and have something done by the end of the week. Hopefully.
Did Mother Nature tell you,
"Boy, you come and go as you please"?
That's what she said to me
On Saturday night, I made plans to see Dirty Pretty Things the following day. So it really came as no surprise to find myself Sunday evening watching The Italian Job (inexplicably in re-release) instead. It was okay -- I might write a review later.
Oh, so many things to write. I'm supposed to be writing something for this site right now (I'm the "lazy bum" described on the front page). I've got a non-fiction piece I want to do. I watched the ABC miniseries Stephen King's Storm of the Century last week; I liked it much more than I remembered, and planned to write a review. And yet nothing is done. Why? Well....
1) I've been trying to fix that image up there. That took far longer than I expected. But now that it's there, what do you think?
2) For some reason, I've been hooked on my PlayStation 2 again for the last few days (especially Metal Gear Solid 2 and WWE Smackdown). Don't know why.
3) I bought a book today: Things My Girlfriend and I Have Argued About. I can't put the damn thing down. It's open next to me as I type this. I'm glancing at it during long page loads.
Not to mention that tonight, while at work, no less than three -- three -- ideas for new things to write came to me. See, I have a lot of good ideas; they just all come to me at once.
Hopefully, I'll sort this all out and have something done by the end of the week. Hopefully.
Did Mother Nature tell you,
"Boy, you come and go as you please"?
That's what she said to me
Wednesday, September 03, 2003
Ten reviews, one page! This is what happens when I get lazy, folks.
Oh, and I discovered something today that I didn't know when I wrote that -- Victor Salva, writer/director of the Jeepers Creepers films, is a convicted pedophile. This explains a great deal, actually.
"What's a pederast, Walter?"
"Shut the fuck up, Donny."
Oh, and I discovered something today that I didn't know when I wrote that -- Victor Salva, writer/director of the Jeepers Creepers films, is a convicted pedophile. This explains a great deal, actually.
"What's a pederast, Walter?"
"Shut the fuck up, Donny."
Thursday, August 28, 2003
Forgive me for the lack of updates, but the past few weeks have been rather strange. After struggling through a power outage, flat tires, a cold, and the DVD release of Bowling for Columbine (review now posted!), I'm ready to give this site some attention once again.
A few brief notes before it's time to either shuffle into work or call in sick and head for bed: The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers is just as good on DVD as it was in the theater; the pacing seems much smoother on the small screen, but the grand scope of some of the action scenes is lessened just a bit. My favorite moment is still just as awe-inspiring as it was on the big screen: Grima Wormtongue, moved to tears by the shear awesomness of Sauruman's army. I love that part.... I saw Seabiscuit: blech. Call it **1/2. It wasn't bad, but it was bland apart from the exciting racing sequences. And what was with the PBS narrator?.... Jonny Depp will be playing Willy Wonka in Charlie & the Chocolate Factory, to be directed by Tim Burton. I have no idea how to feel about this -- Depp is good, yes, but I'm no Tim Burton fan (blasphemy, I know).
And that's it. I'll be back tomorrow with a whole bunch of capsule reviews of a month's worth of video rentals.
You're even dumber than you think I think you are.
A few brief notes before it's time to either shuffle into work or call in sick and head for bed: The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers is just as good on DVD as it was in the theater; the pacing seems much smoother on the small screen, but the grand scope of some of the action scenes is lessened just a bit. My favorite moment is still just as awe-inspiring as it was on the big screen: Grima Wormtongue, moved to tears by the shear awesomness of Sauruman's army. I love that part.... I saw Seabiscuit: blech. Call it **1/2. It wasn't bad, but it was bland apart from the exciting racing sequences. And what was with the PBS narrator?.... Jonny Depp will be playing Willy Wonka in Charlie & the Chocolate Factory, to be directed by Tim Burton. I have no idea how to feel about this -- Depp is good, yes, but I'm no Tim Burton fan (blasphemy, I know).
And that's it. I'll be back tomorrow with a whole bunch of capsule reviews of a month's worth of video rentals.
You're even dumber than you think I think you are.
Back to the Future II
You know, I really remember enjoying this one a hell of a lot more when it was originally released. Maybe its reliance on retreading (literally) the events of the first Back to the Future turned me off a lot more this time; maybe I caught the ludicrous and enormous plot holes and that derailed my enjoyment. Either way, Back to the Future II is a supreme disappointment. The plot is far too complex to get into here (a trip to the future to correct damage farther into the future wrecks havoc on the past and thus screws up the present and makes the entire movie theoretically impossible... essentially), and that's part of the problem -- the beautiful simplicity of the first film is lost under unnecessary plot complications. In fact, at one point, Doc Brown (Christopher Lloyd, as himself) has to pull out a chalkboard and draw diagrams to explain everything to Marty (Michael J. Fox) and the audience. And it all leads up to a cheap-ass "To Be Concluded" non-ending and a trailer for Back to the Future III (a movie I remember liking less than this one, which is why I haven't picked that one up yet). The film's only real achievement is a technical one -- camera technology advancements allowed Fox to play three different characters on screen at once fairly seamlessly. But it's only for a scene or two, and none of the characters are very interesting anyway. If you do decide to watch this one, watch out for Elijah Wood's very first film role at a 80's diner in the future.
Rating: *
Rating: *
Wednesday, August 27, 2003
The Life of David Gale
There are no fewer than four films featuring Kevin Spacey on my Essentials list, two in the top ten. During the period of my life when it became clear to me that I wanted to be a filmmaker, Spacey churned out incredible performance after incredible performance -- L.A. Confidential, The Big Kahuna, and, of course, his Oscar-winning turn in American Beauty. I watched Spacey bring the house down on Inside the Actor's Studio, and kill in the "Star Wars Auditions" sketch on Saturday Night Live. He was my favorite actor.
But something happened after that second Oscar. Something about his melodramatic role in Pay It Forward made me worry long before that film torpedoed itself into the garbage. The Shipping News? Kevin, you have two Oscars already, you don't need to mine for more. K-PAX? This is a joke, right? Where the hell was Verbal Kint? Lester Burnham? What happened?
I saw the trailer for The Life of David Gale, and didn't want to see it. Never mind that Alan Parker (director of such diverse films as Angela's Ashes and Pink Floyd: The Wall) was behind the camera. And never mind Spacey. I had given up. But something compelled me. Maybe Spacey deserved another chance. So I caved.
I've got good news and bad news. The bad news: The Life of David Gale is an embarassing disaster, and one of the most intellectually offensive films I've seen in a while. The good news: it's not Spacey's fault.
In New York, reporter Bitsey (?) Bloom (Kate Winslet) is coming off a well-publicized jail term for refusing to reveal her sources in a story about kiddie porn. Her integrity under fire has earned her a special assignment: head down to Texas and interview death row inmate David Gale (Spacey), sentenced to die in three days for the rape and murder of his friend and colleague, Constance Harroway (Laura Linney). It seems Gale and Harroway were both high-ranking officials for DeathWatch, an anti-death penalty group, and both very outspoken death penalty abolitionists. Gale has never given an interview before now, and specifically requests Bitsey for the job. And even though "Dammit, you know I work alone," Bitsey is assigned an intern, Zack (Gabriel Mann), to help her work out the various plot twists. They end up in a rental car with a flashing "overheating" light, which would be inexcusably obvious foreshadowing if a brief flash-forward at the start of the film didn't spoil that suspense for us.
Right off the bat, the script (Charles Randolph's first) is downright embarrassing in its liberal bias. Zack says things like "Ninety percent of all serial killers vote Republican." Bitsey talks about Gale's guilt with such conviction that her eventual change of heart is hardly a surprise. And things get no better once we meet Gale: he tells Bitsey at their first meeting, "No one looks through that glass and sees a person. They see a crime." The guards at the prison are heartless bullies who scream at Gale for standing and refuse to turn the volume down on the speakers. Now I'm the last person to stand up for the conservatives, but jeez.
At its heart, the movie is a standard investigative thriller -- Gale proclaims his innocence, and pieces of information pop up that may support his side of the story. There's a videotape of the crime that may or may not exist, and of course a Mysterious Stalker following Bitsey and Zack around -- a cowboy who listens to opera tails them in a pickup truck (headlights off, but they still manage to spot him every time). There are a few odd touches I like -- the goth chick that's moved into the house where the murder occurred and turned it into a macabre museum, complete with guided tour and a complimentary photo pack -- but there's not much here you've never seen before.
If there's anything to keep you awake through the thriller portions of Gale, it's Spacey, who turns in his best performance since...well, since American Beauty. Gale is a man who knows he's made mistakes -- he cheated on his wife with a student (which resulted in a bogus rape charge), he's an alcoholic, he's an egotistical glory hound -- and is saddened that he's unable to atone for them. In Spacey's hands, he's both angry and amused by the irony of his predicament and the skill of those who placed him there. It may not be his best work, but it's a step back on track.
Elsewhere, the acting's not much to speak of. Laura Linney has little to do with her character, mainly just frowning and spitting out statistics. Kate Winslet, meanwhile, has a character arc so perfunctory that it's a testament to her talent that she doesn't look bored. Gabriel Mann, unfortunately, has even less to do, and does nothing worth noting.
So as a suspense picture, Gale churns along competently, if not originally or particularly interestingly. But the film totally comes apart when Parker and Randolph decide to get political. Pages of dialogue are committed to exposing the various flaws in the death penalty system. The governor is described as a "frat boy" and says things like "I say let's bring 'em in, strap 'em down, and rock 'n' roll." In a television debate with Gale, Gale compares him to Hitler and offers still more statistics; in response, the governor quotes the bible. The film is placed in Texas, which makes it even easier to make those in favor of executions look like lunatics, helped along with dialogue like, "You know you're in the bible belt when there are more churches than Starbucks." (Huh?)
And then there's the ending, which I won't spoil (though I had it called from the trailer). It has the notable aspect of being both completely nonsensical and entirely predictable; it also manages to totally undermine all of the arrogant conservative-bashing in a single shot. Thus the only barely competent thriller aspect of the film manages to fall on its face, as well. I'm sure that Parker and Randolph think they've made an intelligent suspense picture that says some important things about the state of the death penalty in America. But they've made the exact opposite -- a boring, predictable mess that contradicts its own heavy-handed message in the desire to get one last "Gotcha!" out of the audience.
Well, Kevin, you're once again a respectable actor. But, please, for my sake and yours: fire your agent.
Rating: *
But something happened after that second Oscar. Something about his melodramatic role in Pay It Forward made me worry long before that film torpedoed itself into the garbage. The Shipping News? Kevin, you have two Oscars already, you don't need to mine for more. K-PAX? This is a joke, right? Where the hell was Verbal Kint? Lester Burnham? What happened?
I saw the trailer for The Life of David Gale, and didn't want to see it. Never mind that Alan Parker (director of such diverse films as Angela's Ashes and Pink Floyd: The Wall) was behind the camera. And never mind Spacey. I had given up. But something compelled me. Maybe Spacey deserved another chance. So I caved.
I've got good news and bad news. The bad news: The Life of David Gale is an embarassing disaster, and one of the most intellectually offensive films I've seen in a while. The good news: it's not Spacey's fault.
In New York, reporter Bitsey (?) Bloom (Kate Winslet) is coming off a well-publicized jail term for refusing to reveal her sources in a story about kiddie porn. Her integrity under fire has earned her a special assignment: head down to Texas and interview death row inmate David Gale (Spacey), sentenced to die in three days for the rape and murder of his friend and colleague, Constance Harroway (Laura Linney). It seems Gale and Harroway were both high-ranking officials for DeathWatch, an anti-death penalty group, and both very outspoken death penalty abolitionists. Gale has never given an interview before now, and specifically requests Bitsey for the job. And even though "Dammit, you know I work alone," Bitsey is assigned an intern, Zack (Gabriel Mann), to help her work out the various plot twists. They end up in a rental car with a flashing "overheating" light, which would be inexcusably obvious foreshadowing if a brief flash-forward at the start of the film didn't spoil that suspense for us.
Right off the bat, the script (Charles Randolph's first) is downright embarrassing in its liberal bias. Zack says things like "Ninety percent of all serial killers vote Republican." Bitsey talks about Gale's guilt with such conviction that her eventual change of heart is hardly a surprise. And things get no better once we meet Gale: he tells Bitsey at their first meeting, "No one looks through that glass and sees a person. They see a crime." The guards at the prison are heartless bullies who scream at Gale for standing and refuse to turn the volume down on the speakers. Now I'm the last person to stand up for the conservatives, but jeez.
At its heart, the movie is a standard investigative thriller -- Gale proclaims his innocence, and pieces of information pop up that may support his side of the story. There's a videotape of the crime that may or may not exist, and of course a Mysterious Stalker following Bitsey and Zack around -- a cowboy who listens to opera tails them in a pickup truck (headlights off, but they still manage to spot him every time). There are a few odd touches I like -- the goth chick that's moved into the house where the murder occurred and turned it into a macabre museum, complete with guided tour and a complimentary photo pack -- but there's not much here you've never seen before.
If there's anything to keep you awake through the thriller portions of Gale, it's Spacey, who turns in his best performance since...well, since American Beauty. Gale is a man who knows he's made mistakes -- he cheated on his wife with a student (which resulted in a bogus rape charge), he's an alcoholic, he's an egotistical glory hound -- and is saddened that he's unable to atone for them. In Spacey's hands, he's both angry and amused by the irony of his predicament and the skill of those who placed him there. It may not be his best work, but it's a step back on track.
Elsewhere, the acting's not much to speak of. Laura Linney has little to do with her character, mainly just frowning and spitting out statistics. Kate Winslet, meanwhile, has a character arc so perfunctory that it's a testament to her talent that she doesn't look bored. Gabriel Mann, unfortunately, has even less to do, and does nothing worth noting.
So as a suspense picture, Gale churns along competently, if not originally or particularly interestingly. But the film totally comes apart when Parker and Randolph decide to get political. Pages of dialogue are committed to exposing the various flaws in the death penalty system. The governor is described as a "frat boy" and says things like "I say let's bring 'em in, strap 'em down, and rock 'n' roll." In a television debate with Gale, Gale compares him to Hitler and offers still more statistics; in response, the governor quotes the bible. The film is placed in Texas, which makes it even easier to make those in favor of executions look like lunatics, helped along with dialogue like, "You know you're in the bible belt when there are more churches than Starbucks." (Huh?)
And then there's the ending, which I won't spoil (though I had it called from the trailer). It has the notable aspect of being both completely nonsensical and entirely predictable; it also manages to totally undermine all of the arrogant conservative-bashing in a single shot. Thus the only barely competent thriller aspect of the film manages to fall on its face, as well. I'm sure that Parker and Randolph think they've made an intelligent suspense picture that says some important things about the state of the death penalty in America. But they've made the exact opposite -- a boring, predictable mess that contradicts its own heavy-handed message in the desire to get one last "Gotcha!" out of the audience.
Well, Kevin, you're once again a respectable actor. But, please, for my sake and yours: fire your agent.
Rating: *
Saturday, August 23, 2003
Bowling for Columbine
In the spring of 1995, when I was in eighth grade, I began to conceive of a short story, one I would never end up actually writing. The story described a school terrorized by a mad bomber, indescriminately killing teachers, students and anyone else who managed to wander onto school grounds. At the end of the story, police would make the shocking revelation that it was one of the school's very own students behind the murders. The thought that this story was, in some way, my attempt to deal with the frustration, rage and alienation I felt on a daily basis at McAdams Junior High somehow never occurred to me at the time. But it did on April 20, 1999, when my English teacher announced to the class that two high school students in Colorado had opened fire on their classmates. And it came back to me once again as I watched Michael Moore's Bowling for Columbine a second time, haunted by the security-camera footage of Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold -- who, like me, were high school seniors in 1999 -- mercilessly stalking their classmates and teachers.
Though Moore's scathing film uses the Littleton massacre as a jumping-off point, Bowling for Columbine isn't about school violence or school shootings. Nor is it about gun control, though it seems to start out that way. Instead, Moore tries to get to the bottom of why we have so much violence in America: "Are we a nation of gun nuts," he asks, "or just plain nuts?" There's evidence to support either side, but at the end, Moore believes the latter.
Of course, everyone has theories abound concerning gun violence in this country, and Moore wastes no time in debunking them one at a time. Some say we simply have too many guns in this country...but Canada is a gun-loving country, too, and yet they don't have the same problems we do. (Moore chats with a police officer in Windsor, across the river from Detroit, who says he can only remember one murder in the last three years, and that was by a visitor from Detroit.) Others say our bloody history is to blame...but what about Germany? A lot of fingers are pointed at our violent movies and video games...but Hollywood blockbusters are just as popular overseas, and a lot of our violent games come from Japan. The breakdown of the traditional family unit? But England has a higher rate of divorce than we do.
For Moore, it all boils down to the fact that our culture is not one of violence, as some claim, but one of fear: drive-by shootings that lead the news, government warnings about threats in the vaguest possible terms, all designed to keep the citizens afraid of one another to distract us from the corporate crime that occurs all around us. And, as shown in a brilliant animated sequence written by Moore, that fear is cultivated from blatant racism, white America's fear of the black man, dating back to slavery.
Moore visits the Michigan Militia, who claim that being armed is a "responsibilty of every American....Who's going to protect your family? The cops?" James Nichols, who was arrested (but not charged) in connection with the Oklahoma City bombing, tells a clearly-frightened Moore that the evils of the government will result in a bloody revolt. When Moore asks if the man has ever considered non-violent protest, like Ghandi, he stammers and mumbles, "I'm not familiar with that."
In Littleton, Moore is shocked to discover that the town's largest employer just happens to be Lockheed Martin, the world's largest defense contractor. He theorizes that our nation's violence-is-the-answer foreign policy may have influenced the Columbine killers -- on the day of the massacre, the U.S. dropped more bombs on Kosovo than at any other point during that war. But elements like these were ignored in the post-Columbine rush to blame rock singer Marilyn Manson, whom Moore interviews. "The president was dropping bombs on another country," Manson says, "and yet I'm a bad guy because I sing some rock 'n' roll songs. And who's a bigger influence, the president or Marilyn Manson?"
It probably doesn't hurt that I agree with most of what Moore is saying. But there are certainly parts of his film that are inspired, like the trip he takes to Canada to try to look at our country from another angle. And it's interesting that those who took the brunt of the finger-pointing after Columbine, like Manson and South Park co-creator Matt Stone (who attented Columbine High School), give thoughtful interviews with Moore, yet NRA President Charlton Heston and sympathizer Dick Clark (whom Moore tries to interview) can't run away from the camera fast enough. Moore's outrage is both amusing and contagious, and his wit is razor-sharp: in a genius sequence, he demonstrates white America's anxiety toward blacks by showing comparative news clips of "Africanized killer bees" nesting across the street from a terrified old white lady.
But Bowling for Columbine, as good as it is, is not perfect. There are a few slips here, and they are pretty severe. For example, Moore visits two of the survivors of the Columbine massacre, and takes them to K-Mart headquarters to force the company to question their policy of selling handgun ammunition (the bullets Klebold and Harris used were purchased at K-Mart). It's interesting, no doubt, and it's a fine moment of triumph when a K-Mart executive announces that they will indeed cease the sale of handgun ammo. But since Moore has already spent a large portion of his film arguing, exhaustively, that easy access to guns and ammunition is not the problem, one wonders what the relevance of this could be. Moore also plays fast and dirty with some statistics -- rather than pointing out the differences in murder rates between nations, he throws raw numbers out there. Sure, it's shocking to know that Canada only has 165 homicides a year compared to our nearly 11,500, but ignoring the obvious differences in population between the two countries is a transparent attempt to give the message more impact, and it hurts the film.
But even with its flaws, Bowling for Columbine is a bold, stunning work that deserves every one of the many accolades it received. In the end, Moore never really does find many satisfactory answers to the questions he asks. What is it that makes some people snap and turn to violence? What's the difference between Klebold and Harris, who murdered their classmates, and frustrated people like me or Matt Stone, who channel that anger in another direction? But perhaps it's simply enough that the questions are being asked at all.
Rating: ****1/2
Though Moore's scathing film uses the Littleton massacre as a jumping-off point, Bowling for Columbine isn't about school violence or school shootings. Nor is it about gun control, though it seems to start out that way. Instead, Moore tries to get to the bottom of why we have so much violence in America: "Are we a nation of gun nuts," he asks, "or just plain nuts?" There's evidence to support either side, but at the end, Moore believes the latter.
Of course, everyone has theories abound concerning gun violence in this country, and Moore wastes no time in debunking them one at a time. Some say we simply have too many guns in this country...but Canada is a gun-loving country, too, and yet they don't have the same problems we do. (Moore chats with a police officer in Windsor, across the river from Detroit, who says he can only remember one murder in the last three years, and that was by a visitor from Detroit.) Others say our bloody history is to blame...but what about Germany? A lot of fingers are pointed at our violent movies and video games...but Hollywood blockbusters are just as popular overseas, and a lot of our violent games come from Japan. The breakdown of the traditional family unit? But England has a higher rate of divorce than we do.
For Moore, it all boils down to the fact that our culture is not one of violence, as some claim, but one of fear: drive-by shootings that lead the news, government warnings about threats in the vaguest possible terms, all designed to keep the citizens afraid of one another to distract us from the corporate crime that occurs all around us. And, as shown in a brilliant animated sequence written by Moore, that fear is cultivated from blatant racism, white America's fear of the black man, dating back to slavery.
Moore visits the Michigan Militia, who claim that being armed is a "responsibilty of every American....Who's going to protect your family? The cops?" James Nichols, who was arrested (but not charged) in connection with the Oklahoma City bombing, tells a clearly-frightened Moore that the evils of the government will result in a bloody revolt. When Moore asks if the man has ever considered non-violent protest, like Ghandi, he stammers and mumbles, "I'm not familiar with that."
In Littleton, Moore is shocked to discover that the town's largest employer just happens to be Lockheed Martin, the world's largest defense contractor. He theorizes that our nation's violence-is-the-answer foreign policy may have influenced the Columbine killers -- on the day of the massacre, the U.S. dropped more bombs on Kosovo than at any other point during that war. But elements like these were ignored in the post-Columbine rush to blame rock singer Marilyn Manson, whom Moore interviews. "The president was dropping bombs on another country," Manson says, "and yet I'm a bad guy because I sing some rock 'n' roll songs. And who's a bigger influence, the president or Marilyn Manson?"
It probably doesn't hurt that I agree with most of what Moore is saying. But there are certainly parts of his film that are inspired, like the trip he takes to Canada to try to look at our country from another angle. And it's interesting that those who took the brunt of the finger-pointing after Columbine, like Manson and South Park co-creator Matt Stone (who attented Columbine High School), give thoughtful interviews with Moore, yet NRA President Charlton Heston and sympathizer Dick Clark (whom Moore tries to interview) can't run away from the camera fast enough. Moore's outrage is both amusing and contagious, and his wit is razor-sharp: in a genius sequence, he demonstrates white America's anxiety toward blacks by showing comparative news clips of "Africanized killer bees" nesting across the street from a terrified old white lady.
But Bowling for Columbine, as good as it is, is not perfect. There are a few slips here, and they are pretty severe. For example, Moore visits two of the survivors of the Columbine massacre, and takes them to K-Mart headquarters to force the company to question their policy of selling handgun ammunition (the bullets Klebold and Harris used were purchased at K-Mart). It's interesting, no doubt, and it's a fine moment of triumph when a K-Mart executive announces that they will indeed cease the sale of handgun ammo. But since Moore has already spent a large portion of his film arguing, exhaustively, that easy access to guns and ammunition is not the problem, one wonders what the relevance of this could be. Moore also plays fast and dirty with some statistics -- rather than pointing out the differences in murder rates between nations, he throws raw numbers out there. Sure, it's shocking to know that Canada only has 165 homicides a year compared to our nearly 11,500, but ignoring the obvious differences in population between the two countries is a transparent attempt to give the message more impact, and it hurts the film.
But even with its flaws, Bowling for Columbine is a bold, stunning work that deserves every one of the many accolades it received. In the end, Moore never really does find many satisfactory answers to the questions he asks. What is it that makes some people snap and turn to violence? What's the difference between Klebold and Harris, who murdered their classmates, and frustrated people like me or Matt Stone, who channel that anger in another direction? But perhaps it's simply enough that the questions are being asked at all.
Rating: ****1/2
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