PHILM: HELLBOY -- Hell yeah.
Folks playing on H.P. Lovecraft's themes of old gods that are all tentacles, cold hunger, black bile and hate often take themselves way too seriously. Hellboy puts the right cartoonish varnish on that old routine, in part by casting David Hyde Pierce as an icthyoid named Abe Sapien. (While on the topic, here's another nice exception, a funny short story by Neil Gaimon.) Accordingly, this movie is my nominee for Best Use Of Lovecraft in a Major Motion Picture, since the villains in Hellboy are all about being eaten first. Other heavy themes -- love, madness, salvation and the destruction of Earth -- are given similar light treatment to similarly good effect.
Otherwise, Hellboy is exactly what you think it's going to be and most of what you're likely hoping for as well. In fact, it's almost good enough to redeem the mostly-red superhero genre from the soiling that Daredevil gave it last year. It's not everything that Daredevil wasn't -- because, you know, where would you start? -- but it does have the key pieces that have been missing from other recent comic book adaptations.
Like fun, for example. Hellboy is fun.
Saturday, April 3, 2004
Friday, April 2, 2004
PHILM: NEVER DIE ALONE is pretty hard to argue with; a cautionary noir from the just over that edge where pulp becomes true underground. Slumming with David Arquette, we're told "This isn't a rap video. This isn't a Tarantino movie." And it's not. It's smarter than the former and smart about the latter . . . post-pulp, maybe, having a point above and beyond the satisfaction of brilliantly executed formula.
It felt at times like director Ernest Dickerson was projecting Goines' novel onto the screen behind a rough matte finish, true to the feel of tough scenes recounted on inexpensive paper. I like to think this was a self-aware, formal acknowledgement of source material that deliberately signalled transcence of both the excesses and limitations of the "pulp" genre or label. I don't know Goines' work first hand however, and I do need to get my eyes checked, so perhaps that's just my own projection.
In any case, Never Die Alone doesn't flinch and doesn't pose. It doesn't shrink from offending or tell the audience how to feel. DMX is really good (scary as hell) in the role of King David, but the film is more about the responses that Michael Ealy and David Arquette's characters have, respectively, to his direct brutality and brutal life story. The audience is left to sort out the details of those responses in all their desparate and often unspoken difficulty, and that makes for a brilliant film.
It felt at times like director Ernest Dickerson was projecting Goines' novel onto the screen behind a rough matte finish, true to the feel of tough scenes recounted on inexpensive paper. I like to think this was a self-aware, formal acknowledgement of source material that deliberately signalled transcence of both the excesses and limitations of the "pulp" genre or label. I don't know Goines' work first hand however, and I do need to get my eyes checked, so perhaps that's just my own projection.
In any case, Never Die Alone doesn't flinch and doesn't pose. It doesn't shrink from offending or tell the audience how to feel. DMX is really good (scary as hell) in the role of King David, but the film is more about the responses that Michael Ealy and David Arquette's characters have, respectively, to his direct brutality and brutal life story. The audience is left to sort out the details of those responses in all their desparate and often unspoken difficulty, and that makes for a brilliant film.
IN WHICH I TURN OVER THE SUBJECT MATTER TO OTHERS: I've got little insight into last night's grade-A Apprentice episode (except: how did that last deal happen? It's an 'A' for the interpersonal stuff, not for the challenge), so let blogger Ann Althouse share her own thoughts, and point you to others.
I will say this about last night's Survivor: while it was undoubtedly wise for Lex to keep Ambuh and make nice-nice to The Rahbfather, the smarter play would have been to axe Shii-Ann or Kathy, whose votes would have been less reliable post-merge, rather than dumping Newly-Sweetened Jerri Manthey, who would have been his ally to the end. Also, why does Lex insist on telling his voting target about his/her fate? Dumb, dumb, honorable but dumb.
I will say this about last night's Survivor: while it was undoubtedly wise for Lex to keep Ambuh and make nice-nice to The Rahbfather, the smarter play would have been to axe Shii-Ann or Kathy, whose votes would have been less reliable post-merge, rather than dumping Newly-Sweetened Jerri Manthey, who would have been his ally to the end. Also, why does Lex insist on telling his voting target about his/her fate? Dumb, dumb, honorable but dumb.
Thursday, April 1, 2004
PHILM: SECRET WINDOW Interesting edge-of-madness thriller, blah. Pulse-pounding blah, who-done-it psychodrama. Viscerally well-done at times, but not nearly as scary or mysterious as it wants to be. Imagine:
John Goodman is lumbering ferociously down the hallway of a sticky, decrepit hotel, blowing off spit, sweat and rounds from a shotgun. Flames leap into being on the walls as he advances. He bellows, “I’LL SHOW YOU THE LIFETIME MOVIE OF THE WEEK!!!”
Secret Window is fun if you like tales where the protagonist or narrator is playing three card monte with himself. Depp and Torturo give enjoyably menacing performances, but too many revelations too quickly and too cleanly at the end leave the film feeling tied-off instead of finished. Stephen King often leaves me feeling that way: a dark good time that could have been more compelling. A rainy night rental, maybe.
John Goodman is lumbering ferociously down the hallway of a sticky, decrepit hotel, blowing off spit, sweat and rounds from a shotgun. Flames leap into being on the walls as he advances. He bellows, “I’LL SHOW YOU THE LIFETIME MOVIE OF THE WEEK!!!”
Secret Window is fun if you like tales where the protagonist or narrator is playing three card monte with himself. Depp and Torturo give enjoyably menacing performances, but too many revelations too quickly and too cleanly at the end leave the film feeling tied-off instead of finished. Stephen King often leaves me feeling that way: a dark good time that could have been more compelling. A rainy night rental, maybe.
IN OTHER NEWS OF THE DAY: Hey, Finch! Is this new Mets pitcher a relative of yours?
Also, for those interested in more information about the other item today, go here.
Also, for those interested in more information about the other item today, go here.
SMILE AND GRIN AT THE CHANGE ALL AROUND: Am stunned today. Producers from Real Interactive Live television saw the thread on this weblog, and it looks like they're not joking.
For One On-the-fence Lucky Student, the dream of an ivy-league-level education will become a reality.
Believe it or not: the producers have contacted me, and they are serious about putting together a reality series in which twelve high school seniors will compete for one slot at one of America's most prestigious universities -- or, if they're not available, Bucknell.
Seriously, a school with a perceived hipness deficiency like The University of Chicago, MIT, Cornell University or Grinnell College (commonly referred to as "Cornell West") would be foolish to say no.
Each week, the students will be competing in a variety of challenges designed to test their fitness for college. In week one, it's a science test -- give them a pack of index cards, some paper clips and a roll of scotch tape, and see who can best design a contraption which will protect a raw egg from a three-story plunge. Future weeks will feature competition in parliamentary debate, swimming tests, conceptual art, drinking with the women's rugby team and writing self-righteous letters to student newspapers.
Every week, one student gets "the thin envelope," and the speech, "Sorry, you're just not [Our School] material. You'll just have to attend your safety school." In the end, only one matriculant-in-waiting will prevail.
Today's a happy day.
For One On-the-fence Lucky Student, the dream of an ivy-league-level education will become a reality.
Believe it or not: the producers have contacted me, and they are serious about putting together a reality series in which twelve high school seniors will compete for one slot at one of America's most prestigious universities -- or, if they're not available, Bucknell.
Seriously, a school with a perceived hipness deficiency like The University of Chicago, MIT, Cornell University or Grinnell College (commonly referred to as "Cornell West") would be foolish to say no.
Each week, the students will be competing in a variety of challenges designed to test their fitness for college. In week one, it's a science test -- give them a pack of index cards, some paper clips and a roll of scotch tape, and see who can best design a contraption which will protect a raw egg from a three-story plunge. Future weeks will feature competition in parliamentary debate, swimming tests, conceptual art, drinking with the women's rugby team and writing self-righteous letters to student newspapers.
Every week, one student gets "the thin envelope," and the speech, "Sorry, you're just not [Our School] material. You'll just have to attend your safety school." In the end, only one matriculant-in-waiting will prevail.
Today's a happy day.
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