Humble Me (Belated Reaction to 2011 Lammys)

I must apologize for the tardiness in putting up this post - the blog has primarily been running on auto-pilot for a while to cover my travels. But with NXNE and The King of Pain all finished, I have the chance to take a second and profess a word or two of thanks.

You may recall that The Dark of The Matinee was nominated for eight Lammy Awards in seven categories. Well the beans were all counted, and by the time everything was said and done, my fellow bloggers gave me the awards for:

Best Awards/Film Festivals Coverage - TIFF 2010
The Brainiac Award
Most Prolific Blogger
Best Podcast
Best Blog

To say I'm humbled would be putting it mildly. For every one of these awards, I can think of a blog or blogger more deserving and if you're not reading them, or listening to them, you should be.

Thanks for starting my summer with a bang everybody - and I suppose there won't be too much time to bask in the glow as I just picked up my passes for TIFF 2011 this morning!

Radio Bomb: The Film Locker episode 4

Like The Matineecast post earlier today, this one should go under the banner of "Better Late than Never". The episode itself has been available for four whole days now, but my post publicizing it needed to wait until after my blog-a-thon of misery had concluded.

Anyways, here's Simon and I talking about The Coen Brothers...



If the embedded player doesn't start, please tune in through Podomatic or The iTunes Music Store)

Take a listen, and be sure to check out the Film Locker Blog for further writing, updates, and conversation.

Midnight Radio: The Matineecast Episode 35

I'd love to tell you that this episode shook down exactly as planned, but I'd be a liar. Likewise there's a glitch here and there - but the energy is present and I'm starting to think that's the one part that my wonderful guests bring best and help make the show what it is.

As I mention, this episode starts a run of experimentation for the summertime...just to shake things up a bit...have some fun...keep you fine listeners on your toes. Special thanks to my three blogging co-horts who helped me pull this together on short notice. Many thanks to every guest and listener who has helped make this show what it is.

Here's the Frank Thomas episode...



(Go here or to iTunes if the embedded player doesn't start)

Here's what's in store in episode thirty-five...

Runtime
62 minutes, 04 seconds

Up for Discussion

1. Prologue w. Rachel Thuro
2. Introduction (1:10)
2. KNOW YOUR ENEMY - Q& A with this week's guests Joanna Arcieri from Cine-Fille and Blake Griffin from Bitchin' Film Reviews. (3:11)
3. Lammy Thanks. (16:05)
4. THE NEW SLANG - Review and reaction of GREEN LANTERN (16:54)
5. THE NEW SLANG - Review and reaction of SUPER 8 (27:41)
6. HOT TOPIC - We discuss child protagonist'd films (44:00)

Comments and feedback are welcome, and thank-you very much for listening.

Enjoy!

The King of Pain: My Fellow Bloggers Join In

Much like Dr. Jones there, I'm about ready to cut the cord and bring this whole blog-a-thon to a crashing end...but not before turning the mic over to a few fellow bloggers.

Truthfully, I was hoping to have a longer list of offerings for you readers, but I'm guessing that enduring crappy films isn't nearly as fun a prospect to my fellow bloggers as many of the other blog-a-thons that have made the rounds over time. So to the few who participated, kudos - misery does indeed love company.

Note: If you're a blogger and you do still feel like doing a post, drop me a note and I'll ammend this post to include it.

For now, here's the four corners of this monument to crap...

"Big Daddy" Courtney Small starts us off, as he took on not one...not two...but three of the toughest offerings his lovely wife's dvd shelf had to offer. Take a look as he endures THE SWEETEST THING, RV and BEAUTIFUL.

Next in is Rich from Wide Screen World. Rich dug through the dvd collection of his friend Reid and came up with a real gem: THE ADVENTURES OF FORD FAIRLINE. It ain't no CAMP CUCAMONGA, but I'm still glad that I didn't have to endure it.

Playing things a tad differently is Miss Rogers from Insight Into Entertainment. Jess didn't endure someone else's offerings (Actually, I can't prove it, but I think she watched her own copy). What Jess did was go back to the original list of 20 films I had you fine readers vote on and choose from them. Turns out she doesn't think THE SISTERHOOD OF THE TRAVELLING PANTS is completely terrible.

Last but not least is Alan from The Great Movie Project. Alan also went through the shelves of a friend (wouldn't it be weird if Alan and Rich both knew and borrowed from Reid??). Alan's friend is the proud owner of SLACKERS - not to be confused with the amazing Linklater film SLACKER. Despite a moment or two of amusement, it turned out to be every bit as bad as Alan thought it'd be.

And with that, dear reader, I close the book on these nine days of pain and return to my usual hijinks. This has been an interesting experiment for me, and certainly made for a great way to give y'all some content during an out-of-town stretch. I hope you folks agree, but try not to assume.

Thanks so much for your comments and thoughts over the last nine days...we now return you to your regularly scheduled Matinee.

The King of Pain: SUMMER SCHOOL

Note: This is my final entry for the King of Pain Blog-a-Thon. Tomorrow I'm hoping to cap it all off by turning the mic over to my fellow bloggers. If you'd like to contribute an entry, this post explains how.

-Hatter

My long, slow journey across the cinematic River Styx is over, and if there was one film that helped me step on to the other shore, it was SUMMER SCHOOL. I didn't love it exactly, but of all eight films within this crazy caper, this was certainly the easiest to endure. For the uninitiated, SUMMER SCHOOL is about a gym teacher getting grabbed at the last minute on the final day of school and co-erced into teaching a class of deadbeats during the sunny days of summertime. Think DANGEROUS MINDS but without the inner city angst.

Jokes aside, the film actually provided a bit of amusement - mostly courtesy of the wannabe movie critics/class clowns (one of them prefers to be called "Chainsaw" - that never stops amusing), and the Guttenbergian performance put in by Mark Harmon. Things get a little icky when 16-year-old Courtney Thorne Smith throws herself at him, but the movie manages to weather the Nabakov storm and come up smiling.

Oddly enough though, watching the movie exposed me to something fellow blogger Tom Clift mentioned to me in reaction to GHOSTBUSTERS: The rhythm of 80's comedies feels different. It's hard to put my finger on it, but the jokes felt...tamer?...more lowbrow? Something was ever-so-slightly different. Like when you make spaghetti sauce but forgot to put in those two tablespoons of oregano. I'm beginning to believe that it's the hardest part about watching old comedies after the fact: The jokes don't land the same way they did to the intended audience.

All told, I enjoyed SUMMER SCHOOL. Not enough to own it mind you, but enough not to switch the channel if I found it on TV.

Going through all of these films has been an enlightening experience. It has widened my margin of what constitutes good filmmaking. It has exposed me to what I missed out on growing up (not much!). It has primarily proven my theory that some films don't play well if you weren't there at the time - and this goes for more than just the fluff. And it has opened my eyes as to what amuses my wife.

But as much as I like to call her collection The Shelf of Doom, I always remind myself of one thing: Were she to have the exact same taste in film as I do, things would get boring in a hurry. I don't know about you, but I never envisioned myself starting a life with someone who was just like me. Who wants that? I can barely stand myself some days, the last thing I need is to come home to another "me". That's where Lady Hatter having things like different ways to do things, and different tastes is a good thing - at the base level, it keeps things interesting.

I've mocked her taste in film a lot this week, but the truth is that I very easily could have filled eight posts with great films from her shelf. Furthermore, there are lots of great films I've seen over the last nine years that I never would have actively picked up if it weren't for her. She can be a source of great cinematic pain...but she has pointed me toward immeasurable film-watching joy as well.

In the end, it more than balances out.

The King of Pain: WHAT A GIRL WANTS

My walk through the darkness is almost over...I'm beginning to see the light. Well, something lighter anyway.

WHAT A GIRL WANTS is clearly a movie made for kids - so evidenced by the squeaky clean starlet who plays the lead character. It's got admirable themes of identity and family, and in the right hands might even make for a good movie. But this wasn't really put into the right hands, and what I endured was akin to going to the county fair and consuming too many bags of cotton candy. This is a bit of a shame given the talent involved (I dare you to speak a bad word about Colin Firth or Jonathan Pryce)...and that teenagers deserve good movies to call their own.

I look at this movie and wonder "what if"...as in what if it'd been given the care and attention of a film like CLUELESS or EASY A (no small co-incidence that those - like WHAT A GIRL WANTS - are both loosely based on classic lit?).

But here's the thing, as much as the snob in me would like to rip this film to shreds, I really can't. It's harmless. It may not have enlightened me in any particular way, but it didn't anger me the way that some of the others films I've watched this week did.

I can't even play the "Why does my wife own this?" card. While this film really isn't my thing, and as much as I might want to mock it for being a teen-centric movie in an adult's movie collection...we all have films like this that we've seen and possibly own. They are the lighter fare that we maybe shouldn't like, but do...the movies that make us feel better when we're in bed with a cold.

For me, it's movies like MAJOR LEAGUE, REAL GENIUS, FACE/OFF, and SPEED. Movies that I would never hand over to someone and say "You gotta watch this!", movies that a filmgoer like me should be "above"...but films that I come back to nonetheless. If I watch THE THIRD MAN with dinner, then FEVER PITCH is my dessert.

So while this film was a head-shaker at times - I think there was a script quota on Amanda Bynes acting klutzy - to pick it apart would be akin to stepping on a bunny. I can wish it was better 'til the cows come home, but movies like this are made by filmmakers who only want them to be "good enough". And if we're measuring whether or not the film was good enough, one only has to look at the box-office numbers to realize that the film doubled its money. So mission accomplished.

It certainly isn't my cup of tea, but to paraphrase the great Douglas Adams, WHAT A GIRL WANTS is "Mostly Harmless".

The King of Pain: CAMP CUCAMONGA

This is it gang - the lowest depths of hades. The most excruciating pain this monarch of agony will have to endure. No torture, no abuse, no misery is there...more insufferable...than early 90's made-for-tv specials.

CAMP CUCAMONGA was a movie made by NBC in 1990. The concept was to gather a bunch of actors tv-watchers would be familiar with, and lob them together GRAND HOTEL-style into one big clusterfuck of crap. The result had actors from Cheers, Amen, Full House, Family Matters, The Wonder Years, Head of The Class, Mama's Family, My Two Dads and the TV version of Ferris Beuller head off to summer camp. Oh, the humanity!!

This is a "movie" that wants me to believe that Jaleel "Steve Urkell" White is a lady's man. The same film that wants me to buy Danica "Winnie Cooper" McKellar as a bad seed. Are you kidding me?? Putting the girl in a leather jacket and Mötley Crüe tee shirt can't take the wholesomeness out of her face, or the sweetness out of her voice. (Sidebar - remember when leather jackets and Mötley Crüe were a sign of being badass??). As for Urkell, if there's any doubt as to how cool he's supposed to be in this film, he steps up to the mic and raps to prove it.

Yes really.

What you're about to see is actually part of the plot, as the kids think a rap video can save their doomed summer camp. So they make...this...

Oh the humanity!

Here's what I don't get. Clearly this "movie" was aimed at kids, as were many of the shows the stars came from. Why is it that producers feel like when the audience is young that they have to play to the lowest common denominator? Do they think that kids can't appreciate intelligent entertainment, or that if they don't dot it with "hip references" that kids won't tune in? We're in an age where some really great young adult lit is being written that disproves that whole theory.

While I did get a slight chuckle from John Ratzenberger's character continually changing the meaning of "Cucamonga" ("It's Navajo for Enthusiasm!"..."It's Cherokee for Determination"). I inevitably started counting the minutes until it would all predictably end. I can't pretend that I didn't watch more than one of the shows these actors were from...but I have no desire to go back and revisit them now.

And that's what left me most perplexed. She might very well weigh in with the answer, but I haven't the foggiest idea why Lady Hatter needed to own this dvd. There's nothing wrong with saying she liked it back then, or that she remembers it fondly...but needing to have it on the shelf, to take it down and be able to watch it on a whim is something I don't get.

There's crap from my past that I would probably sit and watch were I flipping channels (old cartoons like G.I. Joe, old shows like Parker Lewis Can't Lose)...but I've never felt the urge to clear a spot on the shelf for a dvd copy.

So while I go disinfect my eyes with bleach, and look forward to the last legs of this series where things get a bit better, perhaps my beloved still holds on to this steaming pile of 90's idiocy.

The King of Pain: POPEYE

The descent into darkness continues my friends, and I didn't expect the darkness to contain such an attempt at levity.

Back in 1980, Paramount thought it'd be a great idea to make a live-action adaptation of Popeye. They thought it was such a good idea in fact, that they spared no expense: assigning wonder-producer Robert Evans, ace director Robert Altman, and threw $20M into the budget (which was a lot of loot at the time). The result was a loopy, disjointed mess.

This wasn't the first time - and won't be the last time - that Hollywood takes something mildly amusing and thinks that it can provide the basis of a mainstream film. It could be a toy, it could be a comic strip, it could even be an old TV show. Somewhere deep in the dungeons of Hollywood are a team of monkeys facing a giant wall of every mildly popular pop culture property. Day after day they continue to fling their poop at the wall, and once or twice a year the poop hits a bullseye on one of these properties. The head monkey then takes it off the wall, wipes off the poop and gives it to some keen studio go-getter to be green-lit.

POPEYE is a mess. It has actors romping around a wildly elaborate set, slap-sticking their way from scene to scene, muttering lines that don't seem to want to tell an actual story and occasionally bursting into song. Some of the songs, composed by Harry "Everybody's Talkin" Nilsson, are actually pretty sweet. Not all of them though - which only makes this silly property seem sillier. At least they provide a break from the insufferable dialogue.

In the last few years, I've been becoming more and more of a fan of director Robert Altman. I've found myself quite charmed by his humanistic stories and overlapping dialogue. With that said, I can only hope that Altman bought himself a really beautiful house with the money he made off POPEYE. He wasn't the first director to take the money and run, and likely won't be the last. Every director has one of these films in them - the property that seems like either an opportunity or an opportunity to cash in. Heck, look at what Ang Lee did with THE HULK!

It's up to us to finally stop the monkeys from flinging their poop. We are the ones who need to resist paying our hard-earned to watch big screen offerings like DUKES OF HAZARD, MARMADUKE, and JONAH HEX. It's gonna get harder going forward, as producers seem more scared than ever to give us original material (brace yourself for BATTLESHIP: THE MOVIE next year).

As for this film's place on the shelf, as I endured the pain, I was able to take a small measure of satisfaction in knowing that I was right. You see as the film began, my beloved was in the room with me watching. After fifteen or twenty minutes, she declared "I swear I remember this being better" and realized she had other things to do. In the past I've questioned why she owns this film - I'm happy to know that she's questioning that too now.

'Course it doesn't salve the wound POPEYE inflicted on my movie-watching soul.

The King of Pain: AIRBORNE

We begin to descend into the darkness today dear friends. Today the pain of my kingdom was inflicted upon me in a whole new way.

My half-assed research leaves me unable to prove it, but if I had to make a bet, I'd wager that AIRBORNE was greatly funded by Rollerblade. I make the presumption because of how major a role the sport of rollerblading plays in this film, and the fact that damned near every shot of the activity features a character brandishing the "Rollerblade" logo on a piece of equipment. Even hockey sticks! My friends I have never in my life seen a Rollerblade brand hockey stick - and I'm Canadian.

You might be asking yourself "Does it matter? Product placement happens in films all the time.' That is true dear reader, but there's a world of difference between feature film that uses product placement to score some cash, and a film that is made to be one long commercial for a product (Watched THE WIZARD lately?). When all the filmmakers are concerned with are selling a product, nothing else will matter - not acting, not direction, and certainly not script.

The script negligence gets proven early on, as the "Saved By the Bell" reject who is the lead character in this film moves from sunny California to wintry Ohio. Once there, it doesn't take much to send him on a badly written poetic ode to the sport of surfing...three times...inside of the first 45 minutes! Was Rollerblade selling surfboards in 1993 as well??

I kno one thing for sure: They weren't making hockey jerseys. During the one scene of ice hockey where two schools are competing and our poetic surfer is suited up and pulled on to the ice...they give him every piece of equipment he'd need...except a jersey. For the uninitiated, even during a game of pick-up hockey with your buddies - nobody plays without a jersey. Even if somehow you do, you sure as shit don't shoot on your own net.

This isn't like football where it's easy to get caught up in confusion and forget which direction your team is headed downfield. At the other end of the ice is a guy from your team defending the goal, wearing the same jersey as you (if you decided to wear one). Nobody looks at that guy and thinks to themself "Get it past my own guy and I'm the hero!". An idiotic character moment inspired by idiotic writing.

So as if I haven't convinced you of how terrible this Rollerblade commercial was, allow me to present to you, the jury, exhibit M...as in "made to order". The dvd release of AIRBORNE is part of the Warner Brothers Archive Collection. This is a series of titles WB owns the rights to, but doesn't think would sell well enough to run a pressing of copies. So if you want one of these cherries, Warner doesn't even press the dvd until the order goes through!!!

And yet a copy was purchased, pressed, and now lives in my home.

Seriously gang - no amount of "Watch it again" goading is worth this sort of punishment.

The King of Pain: SPACE CAMP

When did we stop dreaming about outer space?

As this film played out, I was fascinated by the scores of kids of all ages who were wildly excited to be at Space Camp. Every character - no matter how cool or uncool they are supposed to be - acts as though getting to go to Space Camp is akin to winning the lottery. As they come together they all have very little in common, but they all share a desire to go further into the final frontier than humankind has gone.

And oddly, that thread which stitches them all together is what dates this film the most.

Fifty years ago, our imagination was clearly focused on the skies. The question wasn't whether or not a human would get to the moon, but which human would get there first...and which human it would be. Once we got there, we began dreaming of how much further we could go, specifically wondering how long it would take to land a mission on Mars. Interestingly, while all of this was happening in real life, books and films were being created that suggested that by the year 2001 we would be able to send manned missions to Jupiter.

And yet here we are:

2011.
No Mars, no Jupiter.
Less and less boys and girls who dream of going into space.

It saddens me to think that kids like Kevin Donaldson (Tate Donovan) or Kathryn Fairly (Lea Thompson) could have grown into the sort of adults that see NASA as a waste of taxpayers' dollars, or that their children could be hard pressed to name a single crew member on the last space mission. After all, we're talking about astronauts here - people who were once spoken about with the same sort of reverence as rock stars. At one time it was the thrill of a lifetime to shake an astronaut's hand; now it'd likely be met with a "Hey, cool".

Perhaps that's what makes this film feel "So 80's". Not Kelly Preston's perm, nor the fact that teenagers once had Mark Knopfler and Eric Clapton blaring from their car stereos. It's the way it reminds me of a mindset before Challenger killed astronauts on the way up, and Discovery killed more on the way down. It's a movie that was made at the end of an era where lots of kids dreamed of exploring the universe, instead of the gifted few who show great aptitude for math and science. A big part of me has to see that as a bit of a bummer...as though an entire generation of kids just gave up.

Hopefully as more time passes I'll be proven wrong. Hopefully we are now just in a lull, rather than at the end of a long slow fade out from trying to push the limits of what's possible.

If that's to be the case though, I truly hope the men and women who make that possible aren't subjected to this movie. It's terrible, and unbefitting of their passion for the galaxy.

...Oh and by the way, this movie was terrible.

The King of Pain: THREE O'CLOCK HIGH

This film should almost be titled "John Hughes Made It Look So Easy".

I've come to the conclusion that sitting down to watch any film aimed at teenagers if you aren't a teenager is a dangerous proposition. The proposition gets infinitely more dangerous if you're watching it outside of the era it was made. The tropes and flourishes are all geared to be very much 'of-the-moment', and when the moment passes...look out.

What's worse is that a writer like John Hughes became a genre unto himself, so he became the style writers and directors tried to copy. The problem is that the wannabe's weren't missing by inches...they were missing by miles, and giving audiences movies as lame as THREE O'CLOCK HIGH.

I never got bullied as a teenager, so this film gave me nothing to latch on to. Even if I was still working through a traumatic past of being bullied with a whole team of psychiatrists, I doubt this film would have anything for me since the idea is so thin (Geek gets bully's attention - spends all day knowing he's getting his ass kicked at 3pm). Sure, the idea is to take an average high school day and drop in this catastrophic event for our lead geek Jerry. But it's only the day that's supposed to be average...not the whole damned movie.

The "averageness" of the movie is at its worst with the actors on screen. Nobody is memorable - not the geek, not his friend, not the principal, not the bully. Think back to any other high school movie or TV show - they tend to make those roles memorable, right? Hell, think back to your own time in high school! Even if you didn't know them personally, these sorts of people made an impression on you. In this film however, they are just..."there".

The interesting thing, is that in the slightest of ways, the film is a precursor to NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN. As Ellis tells Tom Bell near the end of that film, "You can't stop what's comin'...it ain't all waiting on you. That's vanity". It's the same lesson that Jerry has to learn in this movie. No matter what he does - pull the fire alarm, try to run, send someone else to stick up for him - all he is doing is postponing the inevitable. Sure Jerry doesn't deserve to be taken apart for merely touching a bully, but to paraphrase William Munny "We all have it coming...'deserve' has nothing to do with it".

So maybe...just maybe...if you dropped actors like Jon Cryer or Judd Nelson or Jeffrey Jones into this film, you could create something with legs. Perhaps with them, and let's say Cameron Crowe as a writer, you might have the teenaged version of HIGH NOON. But by filling it out with talent that was only "good enough", the filmmakers made something forgettable.

Appropriate, since I find myself not really wanting to wail on this film...I just want to forget about it and move on.

The King of Pain: SIMPLY IRRESISTIBLE

Six or seven years ago I really began to love cooking. There was something about being creative in the kitchen that reminded me of studying art back in high school...exploring something sensory, diving into alchemy. The difference of course was that unlike my oil paintings, my creativity in the kitchen came with an extra level of joy when I picked up my dinner fork.

So you'd think that where a food movie like SIMPLY IRRESISTIBLE was concerned, that I might take the bait and look past the flaws. I didn't, but more on that in a bit.

There's something wonderful about food movies done well. It could come down to the fact that they are surprisingly rare, but I have always loved scenes that involve people talking about, delighting in, and especially preparing food. Hell, even watching an animated Remy get in touch with his culinary joy in RATATOUILLE gives me a smile and makes my mouth water.

So with that in mind, perhaps it actually makes sense that Lady Hatter owns this film. Perhaps there's something to be gained from a whimsical tale of a girl whose emotions magically seep into the dishes she creates? After all, the food certainly looks good! (Side Note: Films that succeed in making me hungry usually gain a notch or two in my overall impression)

Unfortunately, in the case of this cinematic silliness, there is no magic, no joy, and no whimsy. The whole thing plays out with the "ludicrous" filter firmly set in front of the lens, and that doesn't even include the fact that all of Buffy's culinary chops are courtesy of a magical crab. (Hey Sebastian, give us a chorus of "Under the Sea" while the soup simmers).

Knowing how fond my wife is of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, I presume that the purchase of this dvd was an offshoot of that passion. And that right there my friends is why I have always warned against going into a film strictly for the actors. Hell, even Patricia Clarkson, who is usually as trusty a thespian as they come, can't save this stupidity.

Oh well. I was inspired to whip up one or two tasty dinners over the days that followed this dvd, so it wasn't a total waste of 90 minutes. But if someone can explain to me why my wife still owns this dvd, I'd dearly appreciate it. Hopefully, it all gets better from here on in.

Radio Bomb: The Film Locker episode 3

Already we find ourselves at the quarter pole - time sure does fly when you're having fun! This week, Simon and I have David Cronenberg in the locker, with an emphasis on his 1986 creep-fest THE FLY.



If the embedded player doesn't start, please tune in through Podomatic or The iTunes Music Store)

Take a listen, and be sure to check out the Film Locker Blog for further writing, updates, and conversation.

Review: GREEN LANTERN * *

After reading scores of Green Lantern comic books in recent years, the character had started to pose a challenge to Superman for the title of "Hatter's Favorite Hero". Not that you'd guess that after watching this movie.

Hal Jordan (Ryan Reynolds) is a test pilot. He's the ace of Ferris Aircraft - a military contractor whose vice-president is Carol (Blake Lively), a woman who shares a history with Hal. Just in case you forget about that, the film will remind you about a dozen times. One night, Hal is drawn to a strange phenomenon. A spacecraft has crashed on the coastline, and some sort of glowing green power has pulled Hal to it against his will.

With his dying breath, the alien inside tells Hal that the ring - the source of the green glowing power - has chosen him because he is capable of great willpower. He is to take the ring, speak the oath, and become Earth's protector as The Green Lantern. For the how's and why's of his newfound power, Hal is yanked into outer space to a distant planet called Oa. There he is taught how to wield the ring's power and learns of the dangers facing earth. Too bad nobody thinks he's up to the task.

Meanwhile back on earth, the dead alien is handed over to a scientist named Hector Hammond (Peter Sarsgaard) to examine. In doing so, he comes into contact with the force that killed it - a source of great fear called The Paralax. It affects him in the strangest ways - giving him telepathic and telekinetic powers. Like Hal Jordan, he seems overwhelmed by his newfound power, but unlike hal he does not seem to have the inner fortitude to get a handle on it. Doesn't help that his power is pure evil either.

Thus it is up to newly minted Green Lantern Hal Jordan to save earth from the terrible power of Hector Hammond, minion of The Paralax.

As a fan of the comics, I was rather hopeful coming into this film. I've been drawn to the core of the story and know what the narrative can offer at its best - and cousin, this ain't it. The movie stumbles over the character's origins - which is not to say that I'm sick of origin stories. I actually think that where comic book films went wrong for so many years was skirting past where a hero came from, or misfiring on telling that tale.

No, where GREEN LANTERN goes wrong is in trying to show us too much of Hal Jordan's back story. Hal being gunshy because he witnessed his father's death really isn't important in this chapter, nor is his relationship with his nephew. At this stage you can pay them lip-service, and hold back on a bit of personal past until the sequel. The whole notion of who The Green Corps are and what they can do is resource enough. Don't make audiences wait to see that because you want to establish that Hal and carol have a past for the third time in the film.

Think it's any co-incidence that the film seems to find a higher gear when Hal goes to Oa? What about the tease of possibilities when he comes back to Earth and negates certain catastrophe by building a virtual stunt car track. These are the chapters that audiences want to listen to - the hero learning what's possible as we do and using it to save the day. Making audiences endure chapter after chapter of prologue, and then putting the brakes on the narrative to pause for character exposition is counter-productive.

What's worse, is that with this type of property, a lot was riding on the look of it and the level of the effects. We have become an audience that prefers our heroes to be grounded in the world we exist in - and believing in an intergalactic cop with jewelry that unleashes nuclear willpower was going to be a stretch for starters. Make that look fake even for a second, and it was game over. To that end, the film brought the goods. Everything in space, everything on Oa, every imagining unleashed from the ring and even Hal's suit looked pretty darned good. I guess Warner and DC decided to give the effects team the biggest budget possible...even if it meant stealing a few bucks from the writing department.

The pity of it all is that this could spell the end for Green lantern on the big screen, which I do believe is a shame. He is a key member of the DC universe - meaning any larger projects like what Marvel is doing with The Avengers is on thin ice. But more than that, he's a pretty darned cool concept for a hero. He has weaknesses (which weren't really explored). He's a god but still human (somewhere in between batman and Superman). Best of all - his power is only bound by the limits of his imagination. Seems like great potential for a film franchise, but now we might never know.

Like the power of the ring itself, GREEN LANTERN was a story that held great possibility. As a fan of the property, I latched on to good things within the film, but not nearly enough of them. It could have played on all sorts of emotional touchstones like overcoming fear, the hazards of giving over to an immoral tactic, and infectious power of determination. Sadly, for this first iteration, they paid those themes only lip service, and got too enamoured with letting pretty A-listers canoodle in scene after scene.

Note to Warner: I can see Ryan Reynolds canoodle in a dozen different romantic comedies - that wasn't what I was hoping to get here.

What did you think? Please leave comments with your thoughts and reactions to GREEN LANTERN

Review: MIDNIGHT IN PARIS * * * 1/2

Being an artist involves a certain amount of self loathing - you're always convinced that you don't measure up. You don't measure up to your fellow artists, and you certainly don't measure up to your idols. It all gets infinitely worse if the person you love doesn't really think you measure up too.

The best remedy for such self doubt? True romantic inspiration.

As the film opens, we meet Gil and Inez (Owen Wilson and Rachel McAdams). They are engaged and on vacation in Paris with her parents. Inez is just happy to be away from home, and is quite content to soak up the City of Lights for a stylish perspective with heavy emphasis on food and shopping. Gil on the other hand feels a romantic kinship with the city. As the film opens at Monet's Garden in Giverny, we listen as Gil - a writer -waxes poetic about what Paris means in the grand scheme of artistic history. He seems in love not just with the city, but the inspiration it has given to so many.

That night at dinner, they bump into acquaintances from back home named Paul and Carol (Michael Sheen and Nina Arianda). Carol is pleasant enough, but Paul is a classic know-it-all ass. During outings to The Louvre or Versailles he goes on and on about the meaning of this, and the cultural significance of that. He seems to have read just enough on every topic to make himself seem like a man of letters. But what he's missing, as Gil can clearly see, is true passion for any of it. Pity Inez doesn't feel the same.

Exhausted from keeping company with a couple he doesn't much care for, Gil begs out of a night of dancing and decides to take a late night walk through the city back to the hotel. It's then that his infatuation with Paris turns into true love, as the clock strikes midnight and the city opens itself up to him to bring true inspiration.

MIDNIGHT IN PARIS is primarily about the spark of creativity. For the romantics out there, illumination can come from so much and so little. An ordinary person could be riding on a train and just see it as a means to an end - but were a poet or a songwriter riding on that very same train, they might see genuine art in the moment, and find a way to express it. The trouble is, to those who don't look at the world that way, it could seem like the artist is trying to pull expression from where there is none. For them, being witness to that isn't always moving; sometimes it's just dull.

This is the role Inez is there to play. She is dazzled by what Paul seems to know and loves to tell, but has either grown weary or doesn't understand Gil's want for truth. On a base level she "doesn't get it", but it's worse than that - she's passive-aggresively discouraging the lyricism she doesn't see.

As MIDNIGHT IN PARIS began, I couldn't help but grin. The film starts with a montage of Paris set to Sidney Bichet music. Instantly, I was reminded of that iconic opening montage from MANHATTAN set to george Gershwin - but something felt slightly amiss. The MANHATTAN sequence came with the stripes that it was made by a local...New York as seen by a New Yorker. The opening of MIDNIGHT IN PARIS on the other hand, drapes us with the same images from the parisian tourist trail that everybody snaps on their first trip. It was almost a bad omen - like Woody was too far out of his element.

Then it dawned on me - he was romanticizing the city. He was giving us those same icons that we all see in our head when we hear the word "Paris" because it's the same sort of ideal that Gil believes in when he thinks of Paris. He isn't really charmed with it as a local - a person who endures the day-to-day with all its imperfections. He's lured to the ideal - the postcards, the romance. He's enchanted by the idea of Paris more than Paris himself.

It's a neat trick since it echoes Gil's own writings which centre on a character who works in a memorabilia shop. The film wants us to hold on to ideals - be it places or eras of time, but not hold so tightly that we begin to lose sight of the truth. The truth is that drawing inspiration from a romanticized time and place can give one a nudge towards something great, but we can't dwell too long on daydreams. Inevitably, we need to take these reflections and move forward.

If you've seen the film already, you've obviously noticed that I've been rather vague about one of the film's major plot threads. The reason for this is because going into it I myself was unaware of the angle the movie was going to play, and found myself delighted by the surprise. At first, I found myself perplexed that such a delightful tale would be kept quiet, but in thinking about how much unexpected charm I got from those chapters of the story, I realized that perhaps the decision wasn't mis-marketing, but a deliberate attempt to reward the faithful moviegoer with something wonderful.

Who am I to spoil such a genuine moment of inspiration?

What did you think? Please leave comments with your thoughts and reactions to MIDNIGHT IN PARIS.

Rock N' Roll Ghost: COLOR ME OBSESSED Plays NXNE

Rock docs are a dime a dozen. Every week there is a new one; some getting a full-scale theatrical release, some created on the sham of what now passes for music television. They can range in scope from the creation of one particular album, to encapsulating an entire career. With all of that in mind, it's tricky to make a music documentary stick out...which is exactly what COLOR ME OBSESSED manages to do.

The film is a documentary about The Replacements, a band that exemplified college rock before "college rock" was truly a scene. They came together in the early 80's in Minnesota, played some legendary live shows, , and went on to record four great albums before moving on to three less-than-great ones (depending on who you ask). Their whole sordid tale is told to us by people who love them, people who critiqued them, people who recorded with them, people who "were there", and people who wish they were.

Judging by all of that, it sounds like just another rock doc, right? Well what makes COLOR ME OBSESSED isn't what's in the film so much as what is not in the film. Left on the sidelines are details like interviews with the surviving band members, archival concert footage and interviews, photographs - new or archival, and music. All music. Yes my friends, director Gorman Bechard has made a documentary about a rock & roll band, and not included so much as drumbeat of their music within the film.

When I asked Bechard about the decision, he explained that "The Replacements were god-like to me. We never see or hear God in films, yet people always believe. So I thought, what if I do a rock doc where we never see or hear the band."

What we're left with is scores of people speaking passionately, and if there's one thing I'm drawn to, it's passionate discussion. Think about times in the past where you might not have liked, or even known about, a musician, or a film, or a book. You meet somebody and as they begin to recommend it to you, their eyes begin to smile, and their voice takes on a loving tone. In hearing it described so lovingly, the enthusiasm rubs off...and the next thing you know, you're rooting through record stores looking for the very LP that was just talked up.

That's COLOR ME OBSESSED.

It's not just because the glowing praise comes from cool kids like The Decemberists' Colin Meloy, or Hold Steady's Craig Finn (although that doesn't hurt). It's because they all seem to be able to articulate that moment when The Replacements' music spoke to them. They describe that all-to-familiar feeling of not seeming cool enough, or good-looking enough. The people interviewed in this doc are like the vast majority of us that don't relate to rock Gods, sand find ourselves wanting a different type of rock God. That's what The Replacements are to them, and through their stories and opinions, that's what they want The Replacements to be for anyone who sees this film.

For my money - money which was handed over to iTunes when this screening let out - this bank-shot of a rock doc is a success. I came into the film knowing sweet nothing about The Replacements, and I left wanting to own their complete works. Wanting that of a band without hearing a chord or a chorus is a rare feat. Fitting for COLOR ME OBSESSED, since it's truly a rare film.

Rock & Roll is A Vicious Game: RAINMAN GOES TO ROCKWIZ plays NXNE

I'm beginning to believe that everybody in the world "has something": some talent, some knowledge base, some special thing to offer the world. It might only be one small thing, and it might not be terribly useful, but dammit it's ours...and it can give us a moment in the sun.

For Mark Borebach, it's knowledge of 1980's music, something we get a wonderful dose of in RAINMAN GOES TO ROCKWIZ.

Mark has Asperger's Syndrome and as such is not exactly what you'd call a social butterfly. On top of that, he is 80% blind, so growing up he was picked on a lot. To cope, Mark imagined other worlds where he lived a happy life, and conceived of friends made of plastic that were completely loyal. But while he kept many of these mental wanderings to himself, there is one part of his mental capacity that he doesn't hide:

His aptitude for 1980's pop and rock. Pick any week at random from any year in the 80's, and Mark can tell you with remarkable accuracy which songs were top five on the charts at the time. Eventually, someone suggested Mark take this talent for a spin on a national Australian TV game show.

The doc has a lot of heart, and we really get drawn into Mark's life. It's especially fascinating to consider that while he could clean up at a game like Rock Wiz were it just a matter of answering straight questions, that his Asperger's and slight agoraphobia throw his senses off quite a great deal.

While I had a great time with RAINMAN GOES TO ROCKWIZ, I have one bone to pick. The version that is playing the festival is a 30-minute cut of the film that has been created to make the festival rounds. There are moments - specifically the end - where this cut feels rushed. While I do believe that seeing this cut is better than seeing no version at all, I do now find myself curious to see the longer edit.

RAINMAN GOES TO ROCKWIZ plays North by Northeast on Friday June 17th - 3:00pm at NFB (150 John Street).

Knight Moves: IVORY TOWER Plays NXNE

For a film that's so short, IVORY TOWER sure does leave me scratching my head wondering where to begin...and I mean that in the best possible way. It's a story that dares the true douchebag to please stand-up, and one that wants its audience to leave their mathematical thinking aside for a while, and try to see things in a more syncopated way.

Oh, and all of this takes place via scene after scene of people playing chess.

The film, directed by Adam Traynor is the story of two brothers. Hershell (Gonzales) is a chess master who has been selfishly and obsessively travelling for years. He has now returned to his hometown of Toronto in the hopes of launching his entreprenurial idea, "Jazz Chess". His younger brother Thadeus (Tiga) has become a clean-cut success in his brother's absence, and even used the window of opportunity to steal his girl Marsha away (Peaches).

The first thing that grabbed me about the movie, is just how easy it is to become the dick in any situation. Through flashbacks, we learn how slimy and selfish Hersh is, secluding himself in his own obsessions and ignoring those who care about him most. That's the thing about most obsessions - they seem to come with a set of blinders buddy-taped to them. However, even though he should be scraping Hershell off the soul of his shoe, little brother Thadeus shows that the line between "Better Man" and "Preachy Asshole" is pretty damned thin.

Forgetting the fact that he has moulded Marsha into a fourth-string Stepford knock-off, he has bought into his own legend just a bit too far. He brags about having no "bad side" to his face, and uses phrases like "In a Toronto minute". I live here, and I can assure you that nobody talks that way. But for a twerp like Thadeus, the phrase makes perfect sense.

The movie comes with shades of BUFFALO '66, but with a lot more heart and charm. When at first you want to write Hersh off for being such a self involved twit (The guy uses terms like "Chessence"...as in 'chess essence'), you realize that his once jackass nature has turned itself into unashamed loserdom. Where once we would scoff at him, we now pity him and wonder how in the world he'll ever make something of the nothingness his life has become.

And through it all, there's Peaches' wonderful turn as Marsha. The electroclash icon is a wonder in this film, trading almost all of her shocking sensibilities in for a suburban haircut and some fetching sweater sets. She brings a softness I didn't expect from the artist behind "Impeach My Bush", and gives the audience someone to really pull for. As if the whole darned story wasn't pathetic enough, here we have a one-time creatively gifted woman, whose disappointment is palpable when one brother doesn't support her...and whose quiet restlessness rings true as another one takes her for granted.

I'm not completely sure how much acting Peaches feels like doing, but given the unexpected charm she brought to this film, I certainly hope she works it into her repertoire.

IVORY TOWER is a quirky story that's more interested in playing with the black keys than the white keys. It calls attention to the mathematics of both jazz and chess, and how someone so mathematically skilled can still come up with the wrong answer when given the heart as a variable. For all it's absurd "chessence", it's a film that is not to be missed.

IVORY TOWER plays North by Northeast on Friday June 167h - 2:00pm at Toronto Underground (186 Spadina Avenue).

Thieves Like Us: HIGH ON HOPE Plays NXNE

I was never one for rave culture. To me the notion of spending the 1990's listening to repetitive music, in rooms that is an abandoned warehouse by day, surrounded by drug-dropping drama queens is akin to a ten-year root canal.

But after watching HIGH ON HOPE, I'm able to see where my theory is flawed. Just like so many things, what began abroad as a true expressionist movement, became a cheap, imitation shadow of itself by the time it reached North American shores. The me that was of the age in the 1990's in Canada couldn't have cared less about dance music culture. But had I been of the age in the 1980's in England, and been witness to how the whole scene began, I could easily be singing a different tune here today.

HIGH ON HOPE is the documentary of how the 1980's UK dance scene began. It is told by the people responsible, and the people who were there. It isn't content to just lay down the "what" - it wants to be crystal clear in explaining the "why".

Turns out the genesis of underground, illegal parties in questionable locations were actually a true form of rebellion. Its beginnings were feats of great ingenuity and defiance: heists worthy of Daniel Ocean and his eleven. Led by a select group of organizers and innovators, the movement was about giving people a chance to have a good time without judgement in an era where your status was determined by whose label was stitched on your jeans.

The documentary is well balanced, giving the audience not only a true dose of what it was like to be a part of the community, but also who the people responsible were, what they believed in, and what the consequences were for breaking the law so flagrantly.

So what I thought I knew was wrong - the drugs, the flakes, the repetitive music. There was actually a lot more to it - ideals that I believed in then and still do. But like many good ideas, something just got lost in the translation. A 1990's me might not have cared very much for the rave scene, but the 2010's me certainly did care an awful lot about learning where it all came from.

Take that for what you will, but please pass me my headphones and turn the volume up.

HIGH ON HOPE plays North by Northeast on Thursday June 16th - 6:00pm at Toronto Underground (186 Spadina Avenue).

Lord, Take My Hand: YOU CAN'T SING IT FOR THEM Plays NXNE

When we come to know something as an institution, the temptation is not to tinker with it. After all, the very nature of an institution is something that is steady...lasting...constant. The problem with that line of thinking is that those steady, constant ideas can find themselves irrelevant if they don't adapt.

Institutions can be as grandiose as government branches, or as secluded as a community church - and its the latter's struggle with adaptation that is the subject of YOU CAN'T SING IT FOR THEM.

The doc, which plays this year's NXNE festival tomorrow, takes us through one year at Messiah Baptist Church. Specifically, it focuses on the parish music director Jonathan Barryman. Barryman is brought in to guide the church choirs, and one of his first ideas is to combine the three main choirs into one large choir. Considering that the members of these choirs have been singing together, the mere suggestion of tearing down the traditions is almost heresy.

But undeterred, Barryman takes us through this daring undertaking, and in so doing reveals just how fickle a gospel choir can be. One would think that expressing one's faith through music would be the most important thing, but as we watch the events of the year unfold, we learn that choirs are just like any other group dynamic...everyone has an opinion, and there's always dissention as to what "should" be done. So yes folks, it would appear as though there is a right and wrong way to pray.

Along with the drama at Messiah Baptist, Barryman gives us a lengthy history lesson of Gospel music and how it has evolved. While truly fascinating, the digression feels like a bit of a hiccup since it stops the narrative dead in its tracks for a solid ten minutes. It might have been more ideal to break up the history lesson and weave it into the journey the film takes us on. That said, the history is essential, and I would never dream of suggesting it be cut.

Which leads me to my only wish for YOU CAN'T SING IT FOR THEM - I wanted more. What Barryman had to accomplish couldn't have been easy (he jokes that the church didn't need a musician; it needed a magician). Late in the film, his predecessor who had been musical director for decades suggests that he needs to feel the music more to truly be able to guide the choir.

In that same vein, I wish I was able to feel the film more to truly be able to dissect it. But if a film about gospel music taught me one thing, it's to be open and to be thankful, and with that in mind I am truly thankful for the 68 minutes I got with YOU CAN'T SING IT FOR THEM.

YOU CAN'T SING IT FOR THEM plays North by Northeast on Wednesday June 15th - 12:00pm at NFB (150 John Street).

Haunting You: BETTER THAN SOMETHING - JAY REATARD plays NXNE

Jay Reatard is a hard person to sum up in so many words. There's a lot about him that seems warm, forthcoming and joyful. On the other hand there are things that he's done that make him seem maladjusted, standoffish, or an outright jerk. The truth is somewhere in between and it seems to be what BETTER THAN SOMETHING wants us to learn.

Reatard (born Jay Lindsay) died suddenly last year at the age of 29, and his death envelopes this film in a rare manner. As we begin, we know that Jay has passed away since we are watching footage of a tribute concert to him at the 2010 SXSW festival. Friends and colleagues cover his songs, speak lovingly and often times with a brutal honesty, giving us a sense that whoever Jay was, he meant the world to a select pool of musicians and music lovers.

Then the film hands us a surprise - Jay appears on camera and starts talking about his life and career. The conversations with Jay aren't any sort of archival footage, or interviews cobbled together through the years. The scenes are a new series of videos shot in 2009 for this film...so it's as if, after witnessing the wake, Jay is brought back to tell his side of things. The result is a documentary that is surprisingly charming about a truly creative man.

Reatard isn't easy. His early music is abrasive and he is legend for being uncooperative or outright belligerent during interviews and concerts through the course of his career. However, through the film we are able to see that he lived to make music. The abrasiveness was just a part of his artistic evolution; his belligerence was his defence for being uncomfortable. Listening to him talk you can't help but be drawn in by how down-to-earth he is...and wonder what might have been had he lived longer.

Dotted with some bitingly honest conversation, and some amazing music. BETTER THAN SOMETHING is a fitting final movement to the requiem of Jay Reatard.

BETTER THAN SOMETHING: JAY REATARD plays North by Northeast on Saturday June 18th - 5:30pm at Toronto Underground (186 Spadina Avenue).

Review: THE TREE OF LIFE * * * *

There are two things I know for certain about THE TREE OF LIFE:

One: Those who watch it will either love it or hate it with very little landing in the middle. And two: I can't remember the last film I wanted to watch again so badly.

THE TREE OF LIFE is the story of Mister and Missus O'Brien (Brad Pitt and Jessica Chastain), a Texas couple who raise three boys in their suburban home in the '50's. Soon we are introduced to their eldest son Jack as an adult (Sean Penn). Jack is quietly struggling with existentialism, and his quest for answers makes him reflect on his childhood with his two brothers.


Over the course of his career, director Terrence Malick has become more and more philosophical. Since his return from exile, he has intertwined that philosophy into tales of what humanity does to one another when we go to war, and what humanity did when it explored to foreign lands. Now, his philosophical wonderings turn inward...to who we are, and how we come to be that way. It's a very broad conversation to have, and one that need the audience to do the talking, not the filmmaker.

By keeping the narrative simple and sparse, THE TREE OF LIFE allows its audience time to meditate on the answers. As we watch the O'Brien boys - Jack in particular - go through the film, we are given to asking the big questions not only because they have asked them, but also within the moments we can see that they want to ask but don't.

Who we are in life is often who our parents raise us to be, and where parenting is concerned, there seems to be no "right answer". Constantly be a stern disciplinarian like Mr. O'Brien, you run the risk of resentment and backlash: be unendingly open and coddling like Mrs. O'Brien, you risk spoiling them and giving them a sense of entitlement. It's a delicate balance, like all great stories have, and one that's made all the more difficult by the fact that a child is going to make their own mind up and evolve into what they want to be.

What's fascinating to consider, is the way the story reminds us of the way a parent is a model for God. As a child begins to grow, the parent is all-knowing - a light like the abstract image of a flame that breaks up the chapters of this film. However, as the child ages, they begin to question their faith. Like a sheep that decides to stray from the shepherd, they start to think that mom and dad don't know everything after all. Then where are they supposed to go for guidance?

To mull over such questions, one obviously needs time and opportunity - something THE TREE OF LIFE is happy to provide. Two or three times through the course of every scene, the camera lingers on shots like a breeze blowing the curtains in an open window...or a tree surrounded by endless skyscrapers...or the powerful rush of a waterfall. It's already unusual for a movie to dare and ask sprawling existential questions. It's a much gutsier move to allow the viewer time and inspiration to consider the answers.

The catch to all of this cinematic ideology is the fact that it makes for a less accessible movie. Many could find the story of "The O'Brien Boys Grow Up" to be unspectacular for starters, and outright dreadful when it pauses every two minutes to ponder an image like water rushing by. That the film slams on the brakes at the end of its first act to illustrate over twenty minutes how the entire world evolved to get us to this point could well be the backbreaker. Not that such audience restlessness matters much - THE TREE OF LIFE isn't the sort of film that is made with a lucrative box office take in mind.

As I reflect back on all of the stunning visuals within the film, the tender performances brought to life by all involved, and the places it has taken my brain during and since, I have to qualify the film as a true success. It has taken the simplest possible narrative ("1950's Texas couple raise three kids") and turned it into something gloriously meditative. It has enough respect for its audience not to hold their hand, and to leave them with a piece of art that is truly lasting.

What did you think? Please leave comments with your thoughts and reactions to THE TREE OF LIFE

Review: SUPER 8 * * * *

The worst part about growing up is how much harder we become to entertain. We find ourselves cynical, unimaginative and restless...needing unlimited options and only the very best to pass the time.

If you're like me, and you think back on your youth, you might recall that it wasn't always so.

SUPER 8 begins by introducing us to Joe Lamb (Joel Courtney). As we enter the story, Joe's mother has just been killed in a workplace accident, leaving his father Deputy Jackson Lamb (Kyle Chandler) to care for him alone. We then push on to the beginning of the summer, where Joe is passing the time by helping his friend Charles (Riley Griffiths) make a zombie film using a super 8 camera.

Charles actually has a whole crew made up of neighbourhood kids, including a pyrotechnician, a boom operator, and a handful of actors. Rounding out the crew is Alice (Elle Fanning) - their leading lady and driver. Joe seems to have a soft spot for young Alice, and the two have the sort of timid friendship that boys and girls have at age thirteen.

One night while filming a scene near the train tracks, the kids find themselves witness to a happening. Just as a speeding freight train passes the platform the kids are filming from, it collides with a pickup truck and causes a massive train wreck.

That's bad enough, but things get worse for the small town in a hurry. Dogs flee from their owners, items like car engines and stoves start disappearing from local businesses. And worst of all, people are going missing. All of it seems to have something to do with the train crash, and unbeknownst to the kids, Charles'camera may have captured the truth.

What delighted me most about SUPER 8 was the way director J.J. Abrams and producer Steven Spielberg used it to act like kids again. As the film plays out, we quickly start to see that they are making the sort of film that Charles would make. Did you and your friends ever go a playground, or a wooded area and play army? Or astronauts? If you have, then what you imagined as a child was what Abrams and Spielberg have realized on the screen. It goes beyond reminding you of the films you watched as a kid: It actually reminds you of being a kid.

What's more, is that the film takes us back to a very specific time in our childhood. The boys and Alice are all in that twilight of childhood; that brief window when you're old enough to love, but too young to lust. As such, watching Alice and Joe share the screen brings with it a wonderful tenderness. She's the key to bringing Joe out of himself, and being the spark he needs to grow up just a little bit. To paraphrase a Stephen King story, for Joe she is the girl by which all future girls will be measured.

These threads of youth are what elevate SUPER 8 into being more than just another knock-off thriller. Make no mistake - its influences are easy to spot. However, by setting the film in the late 70's when he was a kid, Abrams is able to dive deeper into dealing with the events of the plot the way a kid would. The quiet tension between Joe and Jackson is palpable, as is the camaraderie of the kids. As such, we can relate to what how the train wreck might underscore how the Lamb family is adrift, and likewise how the boys are all completely willing to rally to do what needs to be done.

Taking all of that adolescent truth and using it to underscore a sci-fi matinee special is a rarity. The film excites and delights when it should, that's just good execution. Taking all that excitement and delightfulness and making our hearts well up at the same time, that's great storytelling. SUPER 8 doesn't want to just scare us, or make us look to the skies - it knows that other films have already done that.

What it wants to do instead is remind us of the first time we watched those movies. It wants us to remember the age where movies like those affected us the most - when we truly believed. It wants us to think about what it was like before we connected with our friends through networks. It wants us to remember that too-fleeting time when we always spent time face-to-face, and were bound only by our imagination and determination.

To that end, the film is a wonderful success. We remember that time well, and we remember it fondly.

What did you think? Please leave comments with your thoughts and reactions to SUPER 8

Days of The Week (Films Watched 6/4 - 6/10)

So it would seem as though with my hard drive crashing, I've lost a handful of files that couldn't be recovered. Can't help but wonder if the spreadsheet I use to keep track of this feature is one of the casualties...not that it can't easily be re-created.

I might have crossed a new cinephile thresh hold this week, as I found myself at four screenings in five days. During weeks that aren't dotted by a film festival, that's a bit much. Not sure if I've ever partaken in such geekery before...nor do I really want to find out!

Here's what was on tap...

Screenings
THELMA & LOUISE - Davis and Sarandon were on hand to introduce it. There are moments where it feels dated, but my is it deceptively well-shot!
BADLANDS - The only Terrence Malick film I hadn't seen.
SUPER 8 - Again, Sasha James flexes her awesome muscles.
TREE OF LIFE - I dug it. You might not. If you don't, I promise not to tell you to watch it again.

Blu-Rays/DVD's I've Never Seen
SUMMER SCHOOL - The least painful so far.
BETTER THAN SOMETHING: JAY REATARD - NXNE screener, seemed predictable...then it surprised me.

Blu-Rays/DVD's I've Watched Before
NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN - I stand by my assessment that this was one of the top three films of the last decade.
THE SOCIAL NETWORK - Just 'cuz.

Boxscore for The Year
115 First-Timers, 77 Re-Watched
192 Movies in Total

How's about you - seen anything good?

Radio Bomb: The Film Locker episode 2

No time to rest on our laurels, episode two is upon us. This week, Simon and I have Woody Allen in the locker, with an emphasis on his 1986 gem HANNAH AND HER SISTERS.



If the embedded player doesn't start, please tune in through Podomatic or The iTunes Music Store)

Take a listen, and be sure to check out the Film Locker Blog for further writing, updates, and conversation.

Crash

Today, I Feel Like This...

Everybody's Talkin' 6 - 10 (Chatter From Other Bloggers)

I feel like death warmed over, I can't get a good night's sleep to save my life, and now my iMac has gone into the shop. Anything else that wants to go wrong as I gear up for two wickedly-busy weeks? (Sorry, just had to vent).

Hey folks - assuming my iMac gets fixed before Saturday night, I'm recording a new episode of the Matineecast this weekend and have precious little feedback to last episode's "Come Talk to Me" question...

Do Tell: What's a movie you dig but has been played to death by cable TV?

Let me know and tune in on Monday for some of the answers. Likewise, tune in Monday for the beginning of NXNE coverage!

Last but not least remember that The King of Pain begins just over one week. make sure to get your own hideous films watched and blogged.

But enough about me. For your listening and reading enjoyment, I give you...


A podcast that is quickly becoming one of my favorites is The CriticalMassCast (and I'm not just saying that because they read off two of my emails in this episode). They just seem to find the right balance between analysis and digression with lots and lots of pop culture peppered in. Toronto folk especially should be listening!

Andy Buckle has gone headlong into the Sydney Film Festival and is in for an awesome time judging by some of the films he has listed on his schedule. best of luck mate - remember to take time to eat!

Anna the Movie Nut is doing her best hatter impression and has posted a Call & Answer post. Go participate and properly grill her, won't you?

I caught SUPER 8 on Wednesday night. While I continue to cobble together my review together, take a look at what Jake at Not Just Movies has to say about it.

The other film I desperately want to see, but don't know when I'll catch up with is Woody Allen's MIDNIGHT IN PARIS. Guess for a few weeks I'll just have to live vicariously through reviews like Yojimbo's.

Finally, Big Daddy Courtney Small sings a familiar song about continuing to collect movies in an age where platform changes abound.

Enjoy!

Love Me Two Times

I'm almost begging for an argument with this post, but here goes nothing...

There are three words I say, and I say them often. They are the words that drive damned near everybody who hears them nuts, and the words that make me look like a chronic assoholic. Thing is, I'm not saying them to sound smart, or to browbeat someone into seeing things my way. I say them because they are three words that have helped me in my cinematic obsession.

By now two or three dozen readers know what three words I'm talking about, but to the uninitiated, I'm talking about my unofficial creedo:

"Watch It Again."

Join me after the jump as I try to explain.

For starters, permit me to list off a handful of titles:

THE THIN RED LINE, FARGO, 2001 A SPACE ODYSSEY, BOOGIE NIGHTS, RUSHMORE, SIXTEEN CANDLES.

What do all these films have in common? The first time I watched them, I didn't like them. The reasons are varied, and going over the how's and why's isn't really the point of this post. The point is that in every case I could have very easily left them for dead and never given them a second thought.

But in every single case, the same thing happened. People close to me - friends, co-workers, relatives - would bring up these films and talk about them with a glimmer in their eye. They'd quote lines, make references, and sometimes even go so far as to call me crazy for not liking them. In many instances, their passion rubbed off, and I'd think to myself "I musta missed somethin' ". I decided to give the film another spin, and sure enough they were right and I started seeing the movie in a way I hadn't before.

In recent years it's been other bloggers, podcasters and movie geeks doing the damage. I've listened to people talk about films I'd skimmed past, often ones that I believe I "should" see early on, that for whatever reason didn't land. I've talked with some of you, listened to your recordings, and read your writings, and it's often given me a different perspective and a better appreciation.

I'm not just saying "watch it again" to be a shithead. What I've noticed through examining many people's perspectives on art and culture is how fluid our tastes are. With every passing day, and every film watched we change our whole outlook. Ever watch a film you thought was badass as a kid and realized how shitty it is? The equation works in reverse too. I'd be a damned liar if I tried to convince you that the films I loved at seventeen were the exact same films that I love now. Not that I don't dig those ones anymore, so much as I enjoy a wider range with the passing of time and life experiences. Think back to your first sip of alcohol as a kid - and compare that to your taste for alcohol as an adult.

Another motive behind parroting the same advice comes from an inevitability that occurs with re-watching. The first time we watch a film, we are as deeply immersed in it as we ever will be. Everything is so new, and we drown in the plot since we're experiencing it for the first time. The second time around, given that we already know the plot, subtleties are able to come through better. Watching a film again allows the viewer to bask in nuance like photography, expression, delivery, and patterns. Being able to stew on such details can make the difference between "Didn't much care for it" and "That was better than I remembered".

The final factor is mindset - the factor that is by far the most subjective. Putting aside the fact that our mindset changes with age, there are dozens of reasons why a person could write off a film due to being in the wrong frame of mind. Hell, sometimes my enjoyment of a film was sullied because I was just in a bad mood that day. Is that the movie's fault? This isn't even counting the whole side-tangent of expectations. Did I initially dislike THE THIN RED LINE because it was a bad film? or did I dislike it because it wasn't SAVING PRIVATE RYAN?

Thanks to people suggesting I circle back, over the years I have reclaimed films I would have otherwise tossed away. In some cases, I've dug even deeper and researched them like philosophical edicts, leading to even further enjoyment. Do I demand that you do such a thing? No. It helped me, but if you don't want to work to fully enjoy a film that makes complete sense to me. I've also been told that life is too short to spend rewatching something you weren't fussed about. That's true, but going forward, you'll likely spend some of that time watching something else so bad that even I don't think it has "Watch it Again" merit. What seems like the bigger waste of time?

So no, Virginia - I don't say "Watch It Again" to be a twit. I say it because over the years people have said it to me, and they've been right.

Not just about movies, but about music, film, TV...you name it. High brow, low brow, the serious and the silly. Sure I could have just shrugged them off and moved on to the next thing on the list...but then I think about all those favorites I'd never have reclaimed, and say a silent thanks to all of the people who suggested to me that I go back and give it another try.

The Song Remains The Same (THE GIRL WITH THE DRAGON TATTOO Trailer)

As a general rule, I tend not to over-analyze trailers. They are seldom created by the film's director, and can easily present very different ideas than what will ultimately shake down in the full feature.

My rule of not over-analyzing trailers goes double for this clip that set the internet a-blaze ten days ago. There are many questions to be discussed about this remake, but I will now hold off on most of them until I see the finished film in December. What I will say is that when I heard that director David Fincher was tackling this project, I was intrigued...and that intrigue holds steady with these glimpses at his version.

Keep It Rollin'

Thanks to those of you who have already listened to the new podcast, and likewise to those who have clicked over to the meagre blog we have set up for the show. If you thought episode one was fun, wait until you hear what happens when Simon takes over the editing board for episode two.

The Brit's got skills!!

Speaking of Simon, when he did a promo post on Screen Insight for Episode One, he gave an explanation as to why we're keeping this to a twelve episode run. To much of what he said, I'd offer a healthy "ditto", but there was another reason why I wanted to contain The Film Locker into a twelve-part frame.

Since I started doing my own podcast, I have of course listened to dozens of other shows. Every time I start listening to a show, I find myself questioning where to jump in. After listening to that first dose, do I go back to the beginning and work forward? Do I begin with the newest episode and work backward? Where does a new listener begin and where does a new listener finally catch up?

By doing a twelve-part series - of shorter episodes no less - what I'm hoping is that the project will be self contained and have a shelf life. Should someone find out about it even after we're done, they can easily get their mitts on all twelve episodes and get the full gamut within two weeks. If Simon and I were musicians, it's as if we came together to record an album, toured it through the summer, and then went on to other individual ideas come autumn.

The other advantage of keeping it short, is that it gives Columb and I the opportunity to go away for a while and dream it all up again. You'll notice that we're calling it "Series One": The obvious unspoken hope is that we'll eventually regroup for a "Series Two", but how, if and when remain to be seen...thus keeping the pressure off, and allowing us to bask in the collaboration.

So that's my take. The podcast that gave me the itch and made me want to do my own was Ricky Gervais' show, and I think that our approach with The Film Locker would do him proud. In the end though, with almost half the episodes in the can, I'm just happy that I got to spend a summer's worth of Sunday mornings with a good friend...and that the tape was rolling the whole time.

Thanks for listening.

Review: X-MEN FIRST CLASS * * * 1/2

With every day, and from both sides of my intelligence,
the moral and the intellectual,
I thus drew steadily nearer to the truth,
by whose partial discovery I have been doomed to such a dreadful shipwreck:
That man is not truly one, but truly two.

- Robert Louis Stevenson

X-MEN; FIRST CLASS begins with the origins of Erik Lehnsherr (Michael Fassbender) and Charles Xavier (James McAvoy). Erik was yanked from a Jewish concentration camp as a child and exploited by a Nazi doctor to further his research. The doctor, named Sebastian Shaw (Kevin Bacon) wants Erik to better understand his curious gift for being able to control and manipulate metal. However, Sebastian is bound and determined to exploit Erik's understanding of his ability through methods that will suit his own gains. Erik eventually makes his way into the world, powerful, sad, and tremendously angry.

Charles Xavier on the other hand is very aware of his telepathic and telekinetic gifts from an early age. Making matters better is the fact that he is approached as a child by another gifted youngster: a girl named Raven (Jennifer Lawrence) who sneaks into Charles' house and confirms to him that he's not alone as a mutant.

Years later, the world seems poised for nuclear war, and little do the superpowers at the time realizer that they are being manipulated by Shaw for his own gains. Shaw is backed by a talented group of mutants, including a diamond skinned telepath named Emma Frost (January Jones), a teleporter named Azazel, and a man who can manipulate the elements named Riptide.

An American CIA operative named Moira MacTaggert (Rose Byrne) is the first to put together how Shaw is pulling the strings, and it's she who approaches Xavier - now a professor specializing in mutation - for help. Along with reaching out to the very angry and very powerful Erik for help, Xavier is quick to point out that in order to counter Shaw, the CIA will have to enlist young talent with mutated abilities of their own...and that Erik and Charles will have to be involved in helping them learn how to use their abilities.

It's no small co-incidence that FIRST CLASS zeroes in on the theme of allegiance, after all every other X-MEN film to date has centred on that very theme. What makes it so omnipresent in the X-Men stories is the manner in which allegiance tends to shift so very often. This gives the fantastical story a true relevance, as it is human nature to sway our loyalty to whatever serves our interests best at any given moment. We like to believe that at heart we are people of conviction, but any conviction - good or bad - can be bent when the chips are down and someone on the other side looks to be the answer.

While the Stevenson quote deals more with instinct versus reason, it can also be applied to the struggle of staying true to what one believes versus caving in to what is convenient. It would be very easy for all of the newly minted X-Men to forsake Charles and Erik, and instead align themselves with Sebastian Shaw. After all if mankind is truly ready to align themselves against mutants, then it seems inconvenient for mutants to squabble amongst themselves, right? However, it is clear that Sebastian isn't interested in bringing about peace with humanity, and with that he causes mutants to draw lines between each other, and decide just how much they care about doing what's "right".

Making the decision muddier, Sebastian Shaw throws down the gauntlet of "If you are not with us, then you are against us". What's interesting about this is how incorrect it really is. Often in life we find ourselves dissenting a cause, or a leader...and it's not because we are opposed to what that cause or leader is supposed to represent. We choose not to stand "with" someone like Sbeastian, because we disagree with the method. In FIRST CLASS nobody seems to encapsulate that more than Erik. He might hate Sebastian enough to want to kill him - but he doesn't neccessarily think Sbeastian is wrong about where humanity is headed.

The way FIRST CLASS builds upon these ideas is key to what makes it work, and what brings the franchise back to the excellence we first encountered in X2. With the exception of the particularly blank January Jones, the film features a wonderful cast - many of whom are given the unenviable task of channeling what we've already been given by other truly gifted actors. I didn't necessarily need a subtitle telling me where every last scene was set, but that's a minor flaw in the execution. The decision to use The Cuban Missile Crisis as the spine of the story is an inspired touch, and Matthew Vaughan guides the whole show with a subtle hand that one wouldn't expect after a film like KICK-ASS.

I do find myself left with one question though, and that is the question of "What Now?". While there is a sizeable story gap between where this film ends and where X1 begins (or likewise, where WOLVERINE ends), I can't see more than one more film coming down the line with this cast of actors. If that's the case, why did the writers choose to take this story as far as they took it...and end it where they did?

However, that is a question for things happening outside of the edges of the screen. What happens within the edges of the screen is something intelligent and well made. It's a film about balance. The balance between what is right, and what is simple. The balance between what one stands for, and how to stand for it. The balance between raw talent, and honed ability.

Most of all though, the film represents a balance between fun blockbuster, and intelligent ideas.

What did you think? Please leave comments with your thoughts and reactions to X-MEN: FIRST CLASS