After 13 years, I finally finished For Whom the Bell Tolls. I finally picked it up again because there's a reference to Hemingway in City of Angels about angels reading Hemingway because of his sensory writing which I had always had to take on faith. Perhaps it was just because I was looking for evidence of that, however, the sensory descriptions definitely caught my eye. I felt like I could smell Pilar's cooking or touch Maria's downy hair, and Hemingway's seamless transition from short, declarative sentances into long, rambling emotional ones drew me into Robert Jordan's world.

At the end though, the juxtaposition of the casual Spanish attitude toward death and the "loss of one is a loss to all" sentiment that's the source of the book's title is so jarring that it almost seems as though Hemingway is criticizing the cultural attitude while celebrating it.

This was a bit of an experiment, being my daughter's first trip to a movie theater. Fortunately, we took her to the second run theater on a day when most people were out enjoying a beautiful day. Although we were prepared to carry her out if she started losing interest, she stayed engaged thoughout most of the movie. In the end, we agreed that it was a successful experiment, although we'll stick to second run movies until she has enough interest that makes it worth spending first run rates.

As for Ice Age: The Meltdown, it was less successful. Aside from the Scrat scenes, like Ice Age, it came across as a fairly light buddy movie with a few good scenes sprinkled throughout. The good scenes are front-loaded enough, that for the first part of the movie I was really surprised at its quality. However, as the movie begins to focus on the trek, the main characters' casual attitude towards their impeding deaths reminded me that it was just a movie. Again, as in the original, the Scrat scenes are the highlight of the movie. The character-obstacle-objective relationship is so pared to the bone, so pure, that you can't help but be drawn into Scrat's plight. It harkens back to the Road Runner cartoons in every good way.

That Jef Costello holds himself to a bushido like code despite having none of the supports that made such a code possible is a minor inplausibilty. The film asks you to suspend your disbelief, and you willing toss it out the window. And even though the final outcome is pre-ordained by Costello's code, and you even see the preparations to achive that end, it still comes as a shock because the price is so high, no viewer would expect him to pay it. Le Samouraï is a completely engaging film.

This film and the hype surrounding The Da Vinci Code's release combine to bring one minor question to mind... Is the French judicial process really that draconian? Costello is basically hounded by the police superintendent in Le Samouraï, and Fache goes out of his way to frame and entrap Langdon in The Da Vinci Code. If those portrayals have any basis in reality, I don't want to hear a peep from the French about the American justice system.

I am an unapologetic Firefly fanboi. This is already my third viewing of Serenity and there is not a chance in the world that it will be my last. On the whole, the movie fulfilled all of my expectations. Which is not to say that I'm blind to its flaws.

There are some groaner lines, like Kaylee's "Captain will drive us all off, one by one. Just like Simon and River. Just like an awkward segue into a flashback." or Wash's "We need to get our bearings. I think we need to talk to the next plot device." or Kaylee's "We're going on a year now, I ain't spoken in Queens English 'twix my..." Yet Malcom's ambiguous response to the Operative's "I know how you must feel about the Alliance." is such deft character development that I'm willing to overlook a few eye-rolling lines. And even though some parts are formulaic, Whedon puts his own brand on enough of them that I remind myself that the old stand-bys became so for a reason. However, not even I will attempt to excuse the awkward sex talk between Kalyee and Simon, it's so ham fisted that I'm just dumbfounded that it made it to the final cut.

And yet, despite those flaws, Serenity retains so many eminently watchable aspects (fight the man, a "bandit with a hear of gold" played more as bandit than Goldilocks, the slightly unnerving space without sound, the disparate ensemble of characters, etc...) that

Eventually, I'll learn. I promise. Like Old School, I had a bad feeling about Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy. It looked too sketch-esque to hold up for ninety minutes, with too much offensiveness-as-humor to be truly funny, and too manufactured to make me care about the characters. Then again, so did Dodgeball, and that one mostly worked. I'm sure the broad humor appeals to many, but for me, Anchorman was much as I feared. It felt more like an SNL skit continued long after it was funny, I found little humor in Burgundy's misogyny, and from script to casting to production, it was as if the producers followed a fill-in-the-blank plan for moviemaking.

One method acting exercise is to follow the character's motivation to its absolute limit. If the character wants a particular prop from another, the actor does everything possible within the limitations of the script to get that prop. It's this exercise on display, unscripted, that I find tedious in "Curb Your Enthusiasm", "Who's Line Is It Anyway?", and the short-lived "Sons & Daughters", yet it's this same exercise on display, with the guiding force of a script, that drives so much of the energy in Glengarry Glen Ross. From the so slick as to make you slick pitch of Al Pacino's Ricky Roma to the bare desperation of Jack Lemmon's Shelley "The Machine" Levene to even Jonathan Pryce's James Lingk's buyer's remorse, every character's actor sells out to their motivation so believably that the tension is palpable.

About the only quibble I have is with the movie-only addition of Alec Baldwin's Blake. While Balwdin delivers as strong a performance as any, I am still left with a lingering doubt as to whether his character's addition adds to the story. Why is it felt that theater audiences can cope without a tangible "villian" but movie-goers cannot? Kevin Spacey's John Williamson is certainly antagonistic enough to serve as a foil alone. The nighttime appearance of Blake to berate three under-performing salesmen seems unlikely, and his over-the-top pep-talk feels wasted given the ultimate quality of the leads. Williamson, although less ostentatious, would more believably fill that role.

After watching the Kill Bill saga over three nights, the immediate impression I've come away with (besides that "Battle Without Honor Or Humanity" may be the best song ever) is how incredibly superfluous Volume 1 is to the entire saga. Think about it. What do you need from Volume 1 to make Kill Bill, as a whole, um... whole? You've got Beatrix Kiddo's revenge on Vernita Green, which is important in that she's another entry on the "To Kill" list, but is relatively short. There's Kiddo's recovery, but while that's compelling, it certainly isn't something that must be on-screen. The origin of O-Ren and the acquisition of the Hanzo sword are completely unnecessary. The exposition on the massacre has nothing that isn't in the Massacre at Two Pines section in Volume 2. Of course, the showdown with O-Ren is another required scene. So you're left with two scenes surrounded with an awful lot of filler. Eye catching filler, to be sure, but filler none the less.

Now, don't get me wrong, I do love Kill Bill and gutting every bit of filler would be painful, I'd hate losing Elle Driver in her nurse's outfit, the Pussy Wagon, Hattori Hanzo, and O-Ren's background, but viewed as a whole, the theatrical saga feels more like a director's over-indulgence and wish fulfillment than tight filmmaking.

Every once in a while I'll obsess over a franchise despite having frightfully little experience with it. Such is the case with Battle Royale. Described as Lord of the Flies meets The Long Walk, my interest was as piqued as a golf shirt. As it happened, I got the movie and the book at roughly the same time, but since I couldn't wait to finish another book I was reading, I opted to watch the movie first. While the film delivers the experience for which I was hoping in spades, there are enough quirks in the plot, most of which I understand to be unique to the film version, that detract from the satisfaction I was expecting.

Shogo is only there to figure out what's wrong with the program? That's the first time any mention is made of a problem with the program (and the last) and the "solution" is to send in someone who, on numbers alone, only has about a 3% chance of surviving to tell you what's the problem. The role of Kitano, the teacher who taught the class in the 7th grade and now oversees the class in the battle, raises more questions than the emotional angle his previous experience adds to the narrative, and his relationship to Mitsuko is so unexpected and unexplained that it's like a beach ball that comes out of the stands onto the baseball diamond during play. Gore, gore, gore, Kitano and Mitsuko walking by the river. Huh? And is Shogo's plan to get Mitsuko, Shuya, and himself off alive really to wait until someone else deactivates the necklaces and then fake the other two's deaths?

Overall the film is still quite enjoyable, although the quirks do keep me from calling it great or recommending it to all but a very few people. It's unfortunate that Toei has apparently demanded stringent distribution requirements for a US release, the film simply does not have the widespread appeal that would justify such a release. It also further limits my recommendation since it is not worth the effort to go to any great lengths to get a copy to watch.

Let me state at the outset that I am not a zombie film fan. Nor particularly a romantic comedy fan. In a lot of ways, I'm not really sure why I even gave this zom-rom-com a chance in the first place. I guess a $7 price tag encourages experimentation. Despite my normal indifference to these genres, I really enjoyed Shaun of the Dead. Then again, perhaps it that indifference that led to my enjoyment, many of the zombie fans I know despise it. The humor helps avoid the crushing despair zombie film exude, and the romance is light enough that my eyes don't roll back in my head. There are some weak spots, the final gag is kind of lame and the "pretend to be zombies" scene is a bit poorly executed (although a great idea), but the film avoids the extreme emotions of the source genres which lets the humor do it job and makes you laugh.

I did not get this because Julia Ormond is nude, I swear, but what a nice bonus. The Prime Gig is a tight business drama with a touch of steamy sex. For the most part, it's depiction of telemarketing sales hacks and scammers feels right, although a few holes hold it back. To begin, the recruiting processes the "prime gig" employs is strains believability, there is no way that such an operation would go to such lengths to recruit employees, nor would it then woo those prospective employees with such an elaborate initiation. I can forgive that Ormond drives a Ford Focus, writing it off as a low-budget concession, but as with Jackie Brown, I can't let slide the ridiculously low amount of money at stake. Ed Harris' character wants to raise two million dollars. Ok, fine. To do that, he tosses money out the window with a completely unnecessary plane trip, a sweet office, Ikea catalog furnishings, tossing out wads of thousands of dollars, and in the end, he goes for the twist of the knife kill over $75k? That's just bad money management. Despite that, a pointless brother sub-plot, and a horrible casting decision (sorry Vizzini), Prime is an engaging business drama and holds it's own against the likes of higher budgeted competition like Boiler Room.

Perhaps my favorite scene sequence in movies is the "same scene, different perspectives" sequence (which reminds me, I really need to see Rashômon already.) Jackie Brown has one of these sequences, so it automatically get bonus points from me. Offsetting that, however, is the lack of new information with each new perspective which lessens the impact of such sequences. Whereas the sequence in other films provide a more comprehensive understanding of the big picture, Jackie Brown essentially gives you all the information in the first run through. I kept waiting for another double cross to justify the use of repetition.

Even though such a sequence wasn't used to its full potential, it strongly conveys Tarintino's style. Recently, I read a criticism calling Tarantino as a "fauxteur," which is ridiculous. The auteur theory holds that the director makes the film identifiably his own. Disparage Tarantino as you will, but one thing you can't say is that he doesn't leave his mark on the film. Jackie Brown is as clear of an example of this as his other films are, from his measured pacing, to his appropriate soundtrack selections, to his iconic cinematography, to his trademark language and violence, and if you like Tarantino, Jackie Brown won't disappoint.

After quite some time trying to find an online source for Méliès' milestone work A Voyage to the Moon, I finally found one on archive.org. This version includes English narration and I am unsure how faithful this narration is to the original. Certainly, the plot must have been communicated to the audience somehow, as the silent film's plot is not intuitive, but I don't know whether that was done through intertitles, live narration, or some other method. Although the plot may not be instantly recognizable, it does nicely fit within the scope of a short film.

While one could hold Voyage up to contemporary standards, or even late silent-film era standards and find it wanting, it is still remarkable for art direction and visual effects. The camera is so static as to create the impression of watching a play (especially in the council scene and the moon night scene), but the detailed projected backdrops, the stop-motion animation, and other effects continue to make this film enjoyable beyond it's historical importance.

Fisher, Pam (Clubb) (BA96) I wonder if she knows how to get in touch with Reicher?

 

The mysterious Pam Fisher has asked me update my site, so here it is. More blah.