New on DVD: "Knight and Day." It's actually much better than you'd think.

Tom Cruise fights to escape his thetans...I mean, bulls. Cameron Diaz holds on for dear life.

Knight and Day hit DVD and Blu-Ray Tuesday. I remember it fondly not as a great film, but as a surprisingly serviceable one. Here's my original review from The Huntsville Item.

 Knight and Day, a worthy Cruise revival

It’s been a rough bundle of years for Tom “Couch Jumper” Cruise. He’s been almost universally declared a self-important nutbar, his marriage gets more press than his movies, and his days as a member of the Hollywood Elite were numbered by the media when he began declaring himself Alien Overlord of Prescription Medication Advice.

I’ve done my fair share of time on the Tom Cruise is Crazy bandwagon, believe me, but I honestly think we’ve been a little unfair to the guy. Anyone with that much money and under that much scrutiny every second of his life is bound to go just a little bonkers, and sooner or later we’re going to have to face the fact that most stars, in any medium, are always going to be a little…eccentric.

Apart from the bright spot that was his cameo in Tropic Thunder and his Nazi flop Valkyrie, Cruise has been largely dormant for the past few years, preferring instead to spend his time being rich and having a kid with Katie Holmes. So it was with a mix of anticipation and apprehension that I marched into the theatre to check out Knight and Day, Cruise’s much-touted return to the action flick scene.

It was never going to be a mega-hit, and the studio honchos who’ve paraded Cruise back out into the public eye had to see that coming, but honestly, all the speculation, paparazzi glare and bad stigma aside, Knight and Day is, well…good.

June Havens (Cameron Diaz) is having a very ordinary flight from Wichita home to Boston to prep for her sister’s wedding. The flight gets a little less ordinary when she meets handsome, charming Roy Miller (Cruise), who she almost instantly has the hots for. But while June is in the bathroom, Roy is busy killing everyone else on the flight (it turns out they were all sent to kill him), and when the in-flight chatting resumes, it becomes clear to June that something is very different about Roy.

After the plane lands in a cornfield and June wakes up in Boston, she finds herself enveloped in a massive government conspiracy revolving around a wunderkind physicist (Paul Dano), a CIA agent (Peter Sarsgaard) and Roy, who is apparently also a CIA agent who’s gone rogue under mysterious circumstances. For reasons beyond her understanding, June is also part of it, and finds herself up to her ears in an international spy game filled with shootouts, car chases and explosions while all she wants to do is get back home to her bridesmaid dress.

It’s the kind of flick that you’d think were very silly if the filmmakers hadn’t tried very hard to beat you to the punch. What really makes the film is not the action or the intrigue, though there’s plenty of both. It’s the comedy. Lots of spy flicks have tried and failed to make you feel the frustration, confusion and flat-out panic that would ensue if an ordinary person got caught in a web of ultra-violence and covert ops, but few are successful in actually depicting it in any way that isn’t infuriatingly awkward. Knight and Day is one of those rare successes, and as such the interplay between its two stars is the heart of what makes it fun.

Diaz has always been good at being the in-over-her-head freakout girl, and she’s no different here. June is insecure, terrified and hilarious while managing to come off strong at the same time, which isn’t easy to do, believe me. Cruise maintains the same natural cool that he’s had for 25 years now, and actually uses his new “crazy” label to his advantage. His Roy Miller is unstable, unpredictable and really, really funny, and the interplay between Roy and June makes up the meatiest part of this flick.

Where things grow thin, though, are the in-between moments. Screenwriter Patrick O’Neill (in his feature debut) seems to devote his every energy to making the big, big moments as cool as possible, and for the most part he manages to succeed. But when everything begins to cool down he either skips over what happens next altogether (by drugging June and making it a montage of jumbled images) or fumbles the dialogue. It is here that the flick manages to miss greatness. We can pass this off as a beginner’s mistake, but if O’Neill wants to play the big leagues, he’s got to learn to go nine innings.

Director James Mangold (Walk the Line) isn’t a beginner, and shows it. I could go on for quite a while about his directorial prowess, but I’ll skip to the goods. I’m an action movie fan, and one of the perils of being such a fan is that you develop a cynicism for certain action film conventions. It becomes impossible in your eyes for certain things to truly be done right. 

In this case I’m talking about car chases, folks. Anyone who’s ever seen Bullitt or Terminator 2: Judgment Day knows that it’s hard to be impressed by a car chase anymore, but wonder of wonders, Mangold pulls it off with a weaving motorcycle meets car meets bull romp through the streets of Seville. Though he’s also guilty of blowing up a car by shooting the gas cap (really?), Mangold redeems himself by actually showing me a chase sequence I can thoroughly get behind.

Even if you don’t like Cruise, even if you never liked him, even if you’re convinced that his greatness peaked with Top Gun, you can’t deny the man’s a star, and all the crazy private life stuff aside, Knight and Day once again proves that. 

Matt’s Call: This flick was bound to get overshadowed by all the other blockbuster fare swirling around it (Pattinson!), but you could do worse than to make a date night out of it. It’s fun, it’s easy and best of all, no one turns into a wolf.

New on DVD: "The Twilight Saga: Eclipse," the flick I refused to review (for good reason).

She has to choose, they have to brood, we have to suffer.

The Twilight Saga: Eclipse hits DVD Saturday (Because, you know, we have to have that all-important midnight release party) just in time to be Christmas fodder for that special faux-goth gal in your life. When the flick came out last summer, I declined to review it, and wrote a lengthy explanation for The Huntsville Item. My reasoning still stands.

Why I won’t review Eclipse

I know, I know, film critics are supposed to be diverse, open-minded and as un-snobbish as possible about the flicks that they see. Believe me, no one is more suspicious of movie snobs than I, but sometimes a guy just has to put his foot down.

I’m going to try to get through this without making it a condemnation of The Twilight Saga or its fan base (I’m friends with more than a few “Twi-hards.”). I’m a nerd, and that means I’m well-versed in being told the thing I love is silly, stupid or childish, and I really don’t want other people to feel that way. If you love this franchise, more power to you. Go forth and spend all the money, time and emotional energy you want on it. That’s what art, in any form, is all about. 

But being that it’s my job to go take in the latest offerings at the cinema and tell you all about them, I feel like I owe some sort of explanation as to why one of the summer’s biggest films will not get my attention. So, I’m going to offer my reasons, and I’m going to ask you, the Twi-hards out there, not to get too angry with me. It’s only an opinion, after all, and it won’t change the fact that the flicks and the books are still out there for your enjoyment. Ready? Here we go.

Every cultural phenomenon reaches a critical mass at some point, and beyond that, a period of over-saturation that makes those of us who aren’t involved in that particular phenomenon a little sick to our stomach. It happened with grunge, it happened with Harry Potter, and right now it’s happening with vampires.

Walk into any bookstore, go to any entertainment website, talk to any teenager, and you’re bound to hear or see something vampire-related. Some of it will be of good quality, some of it of mediocre quality, some of it of very bad quality. I think it’s safe to say at this point that we’ve gone for beyond critical mass and deep into the period of over-saturation, and we have Twilight author Stephenie Meyer to thank, for better or worse.

I reviewed the first Twilight film, and I stand by that review. I was honest, I think, and fair. I found it mediocre. I praise Kristen Stewart and condemned Robert Pattison, I said that the action was fair and the love was foul, and I don’t feel like I came out swinging simply because I was already sick of the hype.

I did not review the sequel, New Moon, which came out last year, believing that there were better things out there for me to see. I stand by that as well. My reasoning then was that people were going to see that flick regardless of what I thought about it, and I was going to loathe sitting in the theatre anyway, so it was best if I left it alone and applied my energies elsewhere.

So now we come to Eclipse, the third in a projected five flick series (the fourth book, Breaking Dawn, is now apparently going to become a two-parter), and I have a whole new reason for saying no.

There’s a phenomenon breaking out in the movie world, or at least gaining new life from old roots, one that some film studios are encouraging, and it’s called the “critic-proof movie." If you don’t like a review of a film, or a critical opinion on a franchise, actress, what have you, you can just say the critic “didn’t get it” and it all suddenly becomes invalid.

This has happened, and is still happening, with a number of flicks, including the Twilight franchise, and it’s not just limited to the movies. When Stephen King came out last year and said he didn’t think Stephenie Meyer was a good writer, Twi-hards filled the internet with tirades labeling him “jealous” of her success (Because, you know, Stephen King wasn’t ever really that successful…oh, wait…). Likewise, when people like Roger Ebert, Peter Travers, Todd McCarthy and myself come out and say we think a film with a rabid fan base was a bad film, we’re simply dismissed as insensitive, or un-hip, or square. We “didn’t get it,” and therefore we don’t count.

If you think that’s how it works, you’re missing the whole point of what we do.

The only thing that makes me different from the people who read what I write is that I know a little more about movies, directors and actors than most people, and I know how to write about it in a somewhat engaging way. This makes my opinion worth hearing, I suppose, but that doesn’t change the fact that all I’m ever writing is my opinion. That’s the key word: opinion.

The girl who was first in line for midnight showing tickets for Eclipse has just as much right to her opinion as I do to mine, whether she gets to publish it or not, and that’s fine. It’s fine if she loves a movie, and it’s fine if I hate it. It’s fine if we both love it or both hate it. What I write here is not gospel; it’s what I think, and all it’s designed to do, all any critical writing is designed to do, is make you think about the art you’re consuming.

I’m not going to review Eclipse because any review I write isn’t going to be positive, because my feelings about the whole Twilight saga, from the writing to the casting to the basic concept, aren’t positive. And while I’ve never been one to shy away from a negative review, I really don’t feel like the people who need to hear it would pay any attention.

I’m all for loving a story right down to your very bones, and I’ve got plenty that would make that list, but in this case, we’re talking about a story about a girl whose entire life revolves around the machinations of a vampire hunk and a werewolf hunk, in turns and together. We’re talking about a story that’s so filled with brooding and angst that any real emotion is lost in the shuffle of ivory skin and rock hard abs. We’re talking about a story that brings almost no originality to the party (Teenage girl who falls in love with a vampire has been done before. Google Joss Whedon.). And we’re talking about a story that gushes with predictable, giggle-worthy melodrama. But don’t try to tell the fans that, because you’ll just be told you don’t get it. 

My purpose here is to encourage thought about such things, and I’m not writing a review because I’m pretty convinced that the lion’s share of Twi-hards stopped thinking the minute Robert Pattison’s shirt came off. I really hope I’m wrong.

Also, vampires don’t sparkle. But that’s just my opinion.

The 80s-Tastic Moment of the Week [Charlie Sheen should have watched this movie]

So, I've been a bit lazy with the blogging, what with the holidays coming on and all. My days have been consumed with pie, family, turkey and Christmas decorating. But in an effort to avoid leaving you hanging, I offer this:



Yes, it's Jon Cryer's seminal lip-sync to Otis Redding's "Try a Little Tenderness" from 1986's Pretty In Pink, also starring Molly "Miss 80s" Ringwald, Andrew "Dr. Hook" McCarthy (not as obscure as you think it is), Annie "Designing Women" Potts and James "Boston Legal" Spader.

This was the John Hughes "quirky, wrong side of the tracks kids" film, more than any other, and no character exemplified this more than Cryer's character, Phil "Duckie" Dale. Duckie has come to personify the iconic "best friend in love" in every romantic comedy, the one who's sooooooooo in love with the lead (Ringwald, in this case) but can't quite get her to notice. For all the wonderfulness of his performance, nothing is more wonderful than this moment, Duckie's high-energy, soulful recreation of a great soul singer's most famous song. There's something about the generation crossing - 60s soul with 80s new wave awkwardness - that just makes it perfect. I'm sure Jon Cryer is looking at his current job (Two and a Half Men) and experiencing a kind of longing for those days. And by the way, fellas. The lyrics...not bad advice at all.

Book Review: "Full Dark, No Stars" by Stephen King

It seems so natural to see a new Stephen King book on the shelves, or to see his name pop up on the bestseller lists, that people almost don’t pay attention anymore.

Too many readers dismiss the “King of Horror” as nothing more than America’s decrepit Boogeyman, a relic of bygone days relishing the last of his creative energies before he fades into so many tattered paperbacks in secondhand stores. 

King doesn’t seem to care much about this assumption. He just keeps writing, and his stories don’t suffer one bit. If anything, they’re better, deepened by his maturity. Full Dark, No Stars, the latest offering from one of our great masters of popular fiction, is a prime example.

Here, King presents four short tales over the length of 400 or so pages (So those of you who complain about the long-winded King novels can pick this one up worry-free.), each exploring a different part of the grimmer side of humanity. All of these stories are a kind of tribute to some aspect of our culture, a dark snippet of something we’ve all thought about, but likely never lived through. 

The first tale, “1922,” is in many ways just a more complex retelling of Poe’s “The Tell-Tale Heart,” documenting a Nebraska farmer’s attempts to get away with the murder of his nagging wife. “Big Driver,” the second story, is a revenge tale not unlike those that populated the darker corners of movie theatres in the 1970s, exploring the attempts of a once-mellow mystery author to take vengeance on a man who raped and nearly murdered her on the side of a quiet New England road. “Fair Extension,” the only supernatural story of the quartet, is a Faustian riff, the tale of a man who makes a deal with a roadside peddler who offers to take his cancer away and transfer the bad vibes to another soul. “A Good Marriage,” the finale, is King’s spin on a BTK Killer tale, an exploration of what would happen if a happy housewife suddenly discovered, quite by accident, that her husband was harboring the darkest of secrets. 

If any of these seem formulaic, look again. King’s knack for storytelling is alive even amid these apparently predictable scenarios. Each of the stories finds a way to be surprising, even shocking. Each of them has something new to offer beyond the subgenres they appear to inhabit. All are woven together by tight, honest prose that is the stuff of great short fiction. Yes, King has written novels so thick that teams of oxen are needed pull them off the shelf, but he’s also a master of briefer forms, and not a word is wasted here.

Full Dark, No Stars is proof that King has not yet faded into the great literary beyond. He’s still a great storyteller, and still a great read.

Harry Potter and the Long Road to the Final Battle

Seven Harrys...still not enough.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 1 begins with scenes of three people preparing to march off to war. Hermione (Emma Watson), is magically wiping the memories of her Muggle (non-magical, for those of you still uninitiated) parents so they don’t have to worry about their daughter. Ron (Rupert Grint) is standing outside his childhood home, wondering if he’ll ever see it again. And Harry (Daniel Radcliffe) is watching his long-hated relatives, the Dursleys, evacuate their own home lest they get swept up in the magical fury that’s about to ensue. 

In what is perhaps the most effective moment of the film, Harry walks the emptied English home in silence, then opens the cupboard under the stairs where he spent so many years in isolation before his wizard heritage transformed his life. He picks a toy soldier off a dust-covered shelf and holds it up to the light. He used to play with warriors. Now he’s become one. This is how director David Yates (who directed the previous installment, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, along with the second part of Deathly Hallows, set to hit theatres next summer) signals to us that everything has changed. That this whimsical world has now turned into a grim place, perpetually shrouded with shadows of evil, and that the ride we’re about to take has grown bumpy and perilous, indeed.

It’s dark times for everyone’s favorite boy wizard. His mentor, Dumbledore (Michael Gambon), was murdered in the last installment by someone he thought he could trust, Snape (Alan Rickman). The Ministry of Magic, the supposed protector of wizarding society, has been transformed under new minister Rufus Scrimgeour (Bill Nighy) into a shadowy organization bent on cleansing the world of “mudbloods” (wizards with non-magical parents). The dark lord Voldemort (Ralph Fiennes) is more powerful than ever and preparing for a final assault on everything good in the magical world, an assault that only Harry can stop.

After a wedding ceremony they’re all attending is set upon by Death Eaters (if I have to explain what those are, you shouldn’t be reading this), Harry, Ron and Hermione are whisked off on their own, completely detached their mentors and guardians for the first time in seven films, and embark on a grim errand: finding and destroying the pieces of Voldemort’s soul that he left scattered in magical objects called Horcruxes.

Much of the film’s two and a half hour run time is consumed by this journey, which takes the trio into the wilderness, relying on a magical tent and Hermione’s bottomless handbag to survive. Dark wizards and other savage things lurk around every corner, as do secrets about Dumbledore that even Harry never knew. 

The great wandering of Harry, Ron and Hermione is considered one of the most troublesome bits of the series by longtime Potter readers (myself included). It’s a vast swath of the story that involves little more than discomfort, arguing and lots of walking (Thing “Lord of the Rings” with a lot more angst.) Miraculously, Yates and screenwriter Steve Kloves (who has written every Potter screenplay except “Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix”) make it compelling, partly through generous abbreviation, but largely through taking advantage of the visual experience of film. 

Yates’ camera presents a panoramic view of the grim wilds the trio must journey through, from rocky cliffs to tangled forests. The sense of isolation he presents is staggering, particularly if you’re familiar with the things that went before. These are just teenagers, after all, teenagers that have been surrounded by wiser, stronger wizards for six years of school, and now they’re on their own, trying to conquer something bigger than all of them, trying to save the world. Kloves simultaneously layers in the heartbreak of innocence lost and the disgust of a world being taken over by forces of persecution (does that sound familiar?) It’s an effective formula to gloss over the boring bits.

Of course, that’s all helped along by three fine performances from Radcliffe, Grint and Watson. The beginner’s luck of their youth is no longer an excuse for how good they are. They’ve grown into these roles, and they own them, and the confidence shows. Watson takes her performance deeper than in any of the previous films. Hermione is no longer just the “smart one,” she’s also the caretaker, the peacemaker, the one who suffers even through the boyish bickering of Harry and Ron, always focused on keeping them alive. Grint has made Ron’s comic quipping an art form, giving rise to laughter even in the darkest of hours. Radcliffe’s Harry just keeps getting richer, deeper and stronger with each film. The teenage whine of the middle films is replaced here by a determined wail of desperate, tooth and nail fight. It’s not always pleasant to watch, but that’s the point this time. But the true testament to the power of these performances is this: They’re on screen by themselves for about 75 percent of the flick, and never once does that become boring.

Ultimately, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 1 is slightly unsatisfying as a film experience unto itself, only because it’s essentially just half a film. Just when things begin to build to a fever pitch, Yates cuts us off, daring us to come back in 8 months and see the final hammer drop and the final battle commence. You’re paying for 150 minutes of build-up, but never has such a thing been executed with such heart-pounding ferocity.

Matt’s Call: It continues the excellence that Yates delivered with Half-Blood Prince, and takes it to an even greater level. It seems like a long time to sit in a theatre, but it only leaves you wanting more.

Brine That Bird!

Everyone has their idea of the perfect turkey. 

It’s tough to convince people, particularly people who have been in charge of bird preparation for several decades, that they need to do anything different. Whether they have that special herb butter they slather on, a perfectly-timed basting schedule or just a big vat of hot oil to drop the thing into; if you tamper with the turkey, they’re apt to throw a fit. 

At the risk of sounding like a salesman, I’m here to tell you that there’s something you can do for your turkey that will make it juicier and more flavorful without sacrificing any of your precious cooking methods. It’s simple really. The answer is a brine.

A brine, as in “the beautiful briny sea,” is exactly what it sounds like: salt water, with a few key augmentations. Prepare it, get it nice and cold, add whatever flavorings you like and drop your turkey in for several hours prior to cooking for a juicier, tastier bird. 

I’m envisioning some looks of confusion as you’re reading this. “But wait,” you’re thinking. “Salt pulls water out of food. How is that going to make for a juicier turkey? Won’t it dry out?”

No, it won’t. When you submerge turkey (or chicken, or pork) in brine for an extended period of time, osmosis occurs in the muscle tissues. Think back to high school biology. In osmosis, liquid moves from areas of low concentration to areas of high concentration. So, when you drop that bird in a brine, the liquid from inside the turkey flows out from the cells into the brine, diluting the salt solution. When the liquid levels reach a kid of equilibrium, liquid begins to flow back into the turkey, but this time it’s carrying the salt and whatever other flavorings you added with it. The result is a well-seasoned bird that’s not too salty or too bland, and infused with subtle flavorings. And the leftovers? Never dry, never dull.

How do you do it? Here’s a rough, easily adaptable recipe suitable for about a 15 pound bird.

● 1 gallon vegetable broth

● 1 cup kosher salt (or about ¾ cup standard table salt)

● ½ cup light brown sugar

● 1 tablespoon black peppercorns

● 1 gallon of ice water

 That’s just the base. Take the broth, salt, sugar, peppercorns and any other spices you’d like to add (Not herbs! Spices are things like allspice, ginger, red pepper flakes and the like. Herbs are something else.), combine them in a large pot and bring them just to a boil, allowing the sugar and salt to dissolve. Let that cool to room temperature and refrigerate until you’re ready to brine the bird. When it’s time, add this mixture to a gallon of heavily iced water in a large vessel like a five-gallon bucket or a cooler. Whatever it is, make sure it’s big enough to hold the turkey and the brine, and make sure it’s very, very clean.

Once you’ve got the iced brine in your vessel of choice, you can get as creative as you want with the flavorings. Fresh herbs are always good, particularly sage (turkey’s favorite herb), rosemary and thyme. Whole peeled garlic cloves are also great. Quartered or sliced fresh citrus, like oranges and lemons add a nice acidity. Apples and carrots add some nice sweetness. Roughly chopped onions are welcome too. You can dump soy sauce in if you want. Use pretty much anything you want to add a little bit of subtle flavor to your turkey. The best part about is that none of this will make the bird taste like anything but turkey. What it will do is heighten the complexity of the turkey, giving it a richer flavor without making it taste entirely of onion or apple or sage. 

Empty out the cavity of the turkey and submerge it in the brine (the empty cavity should make it mostly sink). You’ll probably want to do this the night before, because you want to keep the bird in the brine for at least 8 hours before cooking, though you can go as long as 16 hours. However long you decide, make sure you turn the turkey over once during brining to ensure even seasoning. Keep the brining vessel in a cool place during brining, and add more ice if you need to, but don’t worry too much about bacteria; the large amounts of salt will keep nasty microbes out.

When you’re ready to roast, take the turkey out of the brine, rinse it thoroughly and pat it dry with paper towels. After that, you’re ready to roast it however you prefer, confident that the bird will be juicier and tastier than ever. Oh, and throw the brine away. It’s not an ingredient to add flavor to your gravy or stuffing. It’s an ingredient for food-borne illness at this point.

If you don’t feel like going through the trouble of cooking the brine before assembly, just throw all the ingredients into ice water. It’ll still work great. You can even substitute the broth for more water if you’re not a fan. It’s endlessly adaptable to your personal taste, which makes it a perfect addition to your Thanksgiving routine. Do a quick Google search for “turkey brine” for a host of other ideas. Whatever you do, make sure you take the time to brine that bird.

Believe me, you’ll thank me later.

Interview with Patrick Meaney, director of "Grant Morrison: Talking with Gods"

A few days ago, I had the pleasure of viewing, and reviewing, the new feature documentary from Respect Films: Grant Morrison: Talking with Gods. Shortly afterward, I was able to exchange a lively correspondence with the director, Patrick Meaney. What follows is our conversation on how the film came to be, why he was moved to document the life and times of one of the great mad geniuses of the comics world, and the next comics-related project from Meaney and Respect Films.

Meaney and Morrison. The book Morrison is holding is Our Sentence is Up: Seeing Grant Morrison's 'The Invisibles,' written by Meaney prior to the production of  the documentary. 

 

 

A WALRUS DARKLY: Why Grant Morrison?

PATRICK MEANEY: Grant's my favorite comics writer, and one of my favorite creators in any medium. So, I was really interested in talking to him, and hearing his ideas about writing, philosophy and the universe. But, that doesn't necessarily make someone a good potential documentary subject. What makes Grant so unique is that, as Steve Yeowell says in the film, "In many ways, Grant's greatest creation is himself." This is a guy who has lived a lot of the things that he writes about, he became King Mob, he was abducted, he went through the initiation rituals and came out the other side. He's got this reputation as a wild man, a new age messiah of comics, and I wanted to explore what's behind that. Where is the line between the legend and the reality of his life? And, ultimately, what I found out is that it's all true. The Grant you see in the media or at a con has the same ideas and excitement he has when hanging out at his house, it's just presented in an amped up way. So, I loved getting the opportunity to present a more personal, conversational Grant in the film, and showing people a side of him that I think most people, even artists who've collaborated with him, haven't had a chance to see.

 

AWD: Tell me a little bit about the process of getting this film together. Was there any reluctance to participate on Grant's part? 

 

PM: I wrote a book called Our Sentence is Up: Seeing Grant Morrison's "The Invisibles" for the publisher Sequart. Grant had read a draft and enjoyed it, and we were planning to do an interview with him for the book. Since I work as a filmmaker, I jumped to the idea of using the interview as the basis for a documentary. So, I wrote up a document and sent it over to him, via his wife Kristan. They liked the idea and a month later we were shooting. 

I don't think there was any reluctance on Grant's part. I was thrilled that he trusted me to tell his story, considering I'm sure he could get much more experienced people to do so. But, I think he knew that I was really passionate about his work and would bring that extra energy to the project. So, he and Kristan were really open and gave us pretty much everything we needed to make the film. He's a really busy guy, so it wasn't like we could just sit there for weeks on end with him, but I really couldn't ask for anything more than what they gave.

 

AWD: When did you first discover The Invisibles and what about it resonated so heavily with you?

 

PM: I first read it in high school, shortly after The Matrix had been released. I heard that The Matrix had been 'stolen' from a comic book series called The Invisibles. So, I picked up the first volume, loved it and was off from there. I think the thing I loved so much was its fusion of really progressive, psychedelic concepts with very relatable characters and cool over the top action as its flourish.

The thing that I always love about Morrison's work is that it's intensely thought provoking, and can be analyzed endlessly, but it's also very immediate and totally enjoyable on the surface as an action comic or character story. That's what makes all his work so special, and I think The Invisibles is the best example of it.

AWD: How long did you shoot and how many hours of interviews did you conduct?

PM: We started shooting in April 2009, and wrapped our principal photography at San Diego ComicCon this year, in July 2010. But, it was an on and off process. We'd shoot some stuff, I'd edit it, then we'd shoot some more. With Grant, we shot two sessions of interviews, one in California, the other in Scotland, and then a bunch of footage at San Diego Comicon this year, for a total of I'd say 18 hours. We shot about 20 hours of interviews with other people. So, there was a lot of material to sort through and pick from.

 

AWD: Morrison is widely known as an eccentric in the comics world. Was it important to you to highlight that eccentricity, or to attempt to explain it, or did you just attempt to record Grant as he is?

PM: I think there was a need to acknowledge his reputation as an eccentric, since that's the sort of bias most people go into the film with. So, I opened the film with a succession of people talking about his reputation and the myths and legends surrounding him. But, after establishing that reputation, I wanted to delve into the world as he sees it and just present him through his words without any kind of editorial hand. What I found was that Grant has a lot of wild ideas, but he presents them in a way that is totally reasonable and rational. He has a sense of humor and a healthy skepticism about the weirder things he's experienced, and that makes it a lot easier to take him seriously. He's totally grounded and down to Earth, but has these wild ideas, and I think that's one of the things that makes him so interesting. 

So, I just presented him as he is, and tried to not to direct peoples' feelings, to just let him speak for himself.

 

AWD: One of the most intriguing aspects of the film to me was watching Morrison describe his own evolving personal philosophy, including his dark period in the early 2000s and the "performance" of his infamous Disinfocon speech. How did you view Morrison's philosophical leanings as you were working on the film, and did they have any effect on your own?

PM: After reading The Invisibles, I was already sort of wrapped up in the Morrison view of the world, and thought a lot about his philosophy. Ultimately, my favorite part of Grant's message is to not dismiss weird things out of hand, but to give them a try, see if they work and report back. He wrote The Invisibles as a hypertext to engage the audience and change their lives, and when I was in Scotland at Grant's house, and traveling around the world to make this film, it seemed clear that it worked, and my life had been wrapped up in this comic and changed forever. 

The thing I like most about Grant's philosophy, as opposed to more traditional ideas about magic or religion, is that it's all experience based, not just faith based. He did these things, they worked and that's why he believed in them. And, you can do them too.

AWD: The film seems to have a visual style influenced by Morrison's own storytelling. It seems to feel almost like an issue of The Invisibles, never completely linear. Was this something you attempted to do consciously or something that just came out in your editing? 

PM: You nailed it exactly, my goal was to evoke the feeling of a Morrison comic in the film's construction. I would always tell DP Jordan Rennert to shoot the idea or feeling of something rather than the literal representation of it, and I tried to combine those images that we shot with his comics in interesting ways. My own filmmaking has always been heavily influenced by Morrison, so it was almost like I'd been training my whole life to make this film.

 

AWD: After having made this film, do you personally have any wild Grant Morrison stories to tell now? 

 

PM: Nothing too crazy, but the trip out to his house is quite an epic journey. It involves a ferry ride past a nuclear base, and once you're out there, there are no street names or house numbers. It was definitely an appropriately epic buildup to the meeting with him.

 

AWD: Was there any particular piece of obscure, rare memorabilia that Grant showed you during filming that still resonates with you? 

 

PM: When we finished shooting with him at his house in Scotland, he brought out a big pile of personal photos for us to shoot. But, there wasn't anything from early on, so we asked if he had any pictures from when he was younger, and he brought out a few photos of him with his parents as a baby. And, I felt like getting to see those photos covering his whole life, it sort of came into perspective how much access we had and it seemed like the story was really going to come together. 

 

AWD: What, if anything, do you hope people come to understand about Grant Morrison and/or the world of comics after seeing your film?

PM: I've had a few people tell me that they never knew people were doing this kind of thing in comics, and that they were really interested in reading Grant's work now and finding out more. So, I hope that more people do check his work out. 

On a more general level, I hope that people who think of some of the ideas that Grant discusses as crazy or think his work is nonsensical give a listen to what he's saying and approach it with an open mind. He's one of the most interesting people I've ever talked to, and I hope that people get that same experience from watching the film.

 

AWD: Tell me about your next film: Warren Ellis: Capturing Ghosts.

PM: Ellis is a big icon in comics as well, and is similar to Grant in the sense that there's a sort of caricature reputation that people know, and that doesn't quite capture the reality of the person. And, he's a fantastic storyteller, a really funny guy and knows exactly how to draw an audience in.

So, we're starting with a similar base, but taking it in a very different direction from there. It's going to be a bit more schizophrenic in approach, using mixed media like puppets, skits, possibly some animation and other things to convey Warren's world. One of the big influences on a stylistic level is going to be the avant garde UK comedy series Jam. So, hopefully it'll be different than the Grant film, but still satisfying and exciting.

Thanks so much to Patrick for taking the time to answer my questions. Grant Morrison: Talking with Gods is available on DVD now through the film's website or through Amazon.com.

Review: "Grant Morrison: Talking with Gods"

The opening frames of Grant Morrison: Talking with Gods, the new documentary by director Patrick Meaney at Respect Films, show the film's subject in the calm before the storm. Swathed in the shadows of a backstage area at the San Diego ComicCon, Morrison is listening to a speaker's introduction, waiting for his name to be called, smirking a little, it seems, at the speaker's description of him as a "rockstar of comics." When the microphone booms out "GRANT MORRISON," he strides confidently to the stage, grinning as a roomful of hundreds of dedicated fanboys (and girls) erupts at the sight of him. It's the perfect setup for what it is to be an enlightening journey through the life and work of one of the most acclaimed, debated and enigmatic writers in comics (perhaps in all of fiction).

If Alan Moore is the great bearded wizard of the comic book world, Morrison is its smiling, freewheeling shaman. He's known almost as much for his history with mind-altering substances and adventures with chaos magic and alien abduction as he is for his award-winning and bestselling work in comics, which includes runs on JLA, New X-Men and Animal Man and ambitious creations like Arkham Asylum: A Serious House on Serious Earth, Final Crisis and his mindbending series The Invisibles.

Talking with Gods, filmed at ComicCon 2009 and at Morrison's homes in Los Angeles and Scotland, follows Morrison's story through his childhood in Glasgow, his days as a burgeoning young musician, his debut in comics in the UK, his American breakthrough, his commercial success, the beginnings and development of his experimentation with magic and drugs, his groundbreaking work on The Invisibles, his return to superhero books, his marriage, and how he lives and works now.

This chronology is intertwined with interviews, as Morrison's friends, collaborators and critics - among them Disinformation's Richard Metzger, Geoff Johns and Karen Berger of DC Comics, artists Phil Jimenez, Jill Thompson and Frank Quitely and fellow writers Mark Waid and Warren Ellis - give their personal perspective on his development as a writer, magician and personality. Meaney also prominently features Morrison's work, placing Morrison the man and Morrison the writer side by side, showing that for Grant Morrison, writing and magic are often the same thing.

The film succeeds on the most basic level by providing a cohesive, matter-of-fact portrait of a man who, for many comics fans, has never been cohesive or matter-of-fact. Anyone who's followed the life and work of Morrison knows that this is, in itself, quite an achievement. But Meaney and company dig deeper, seeking not only to put Morrison's world into perspective, but to see beyond the public persona Morrison has crafted. Morrison himself is candid about this; in many ways the persona was crafted not by him, but by people wishing to believe he was something even stranger than he is. The end result of this exploration of the "real" Grant Morrison is something uncertain, but Morrison is candid about that too. "I'd rather ultimately just say that all I've got to offer is that I'm a witness to the events of my life," he says. "All I've got is the truth in this world."

Meaney crafts the film much like a Morrison comic, drifting in and out of chronological time, switching perspectives, swirling across comic book landscapes and archival photos. The true geeks (like me) will find fascinating things here, like samples of Morrison's earlier work, photos of his rock 'n' roll days, legendary tales of what he was like on drugs, a Jill Thompson testimony that his magic really works, a peek inside his notebooks and a tour of his home in Scotland, including the room where he writes.

Grant Morrison: Talking with Gods doesn't try to offer answers, or solutions, or explanations for its subject. Instead, Meaney just focuses, letting Morrison, and his work, do the talking. The result is a portrait of a man, an artist, who isn't trying to be bizarre or shocking or incomprehensible, but is instead clawing for understanding in a mysterious world, peeling back the dimensions of his own existence in search of something more. Even if we can't understand the process, we can appreciate the ambition.

 If you weren't interested in Morrison's work before, this documentary will get you excited about it. If you were already a reader, this documentary will make you hungry for more. If you thought you were an expert, this documentary will likely teach you a thing or two. It's a remarkable, far-seeing look at one of the most talked-about popular writers of our time, and it's fascinating from beginning to end.

"Unstoppable," a well-honed thriller

Denzel and Chris Pine look out and contemplate the oncoming peril.

 

Even if you don’t remember who Tony Scott is, you’ve likely seen at least one of his films in your life.

The British thrillermeister has always played second fiddle to his brother Ridley, the heavyweight director of classics like Alien, Gladiator and Black Hawk Down, but in a way that’s almost allowed him to have a better career. Tony Scott has always functioned slightly under the radar, quietly (compared to other action directors, anyway) crafting solid pieces of popcorn cinema that have made him a stalwart of good times at the movies for more than two decades. He kicked his career of with Top Gun (Or, as I call it, the greatest film ever to feature a beach volleyball scene.) and has continued to delivery awesome action fare in the form of flicks like True Romance, Crimson Tide, Man on Fire and The Taking of Pelham 123.

Take My Breath Away, Goose.

Unstoppable is the latest of Scott’s thrillers, a throwback disaster movie with modern twists set against a backdrop of Blue Collar America. Like many of his films, Unstoppable is unassuming and straightforward, never trying to be something it’s not. What it is: a lovingly-crafted thriller from a master of the game that’s fast-paced, smooth and fun to watch.

When a Pennsylvania rail yard worker (Ethan Suplee) hops out of a slow moving train to switch tracks and accidentally leaves the train’s throttle on full power, the train begins coasting down the tracks and picks up speed. Unmanned and with disconnected air brakes, the train barrels across the countryside, passing through towns at over 70 miles per hour. It’s carrying several cars worth of combustible toxic chemicals, and eventually it will reach a track elevation that will surely derail it and cause an explosion big enough to destroy the surrounding town. 

As rail yard supervisor Connie (Rosario Dawson) battles with a corporate honcho (Kevin Dunn) over how to stop the train (Which she describes as “A missle the size of the Chrysler Building.”), engineer Frank Barnes (Denzel Washington in his fifth collaboration with Scott) and conductor trainee Will Colson (Chris Pine) are having an ordinary, if tense, day on the job. When they discover that the train is headed for them, they divert to a side track, then decide to risk life and limb and take matters into their own hands.

It’s a simple premise, set up a major problem and then have your characters try to solve it, but one that Scott does as good or better than anyone else working in action films today. He gradually builds the tension, starting with near misses, winding up with small crises and building to a crescendo of danger. And may I note that he does it without resorting to massive computer-generated backdrops or lots of digital flash: just cameras, machines and a few carefully-placed bangs. 

More impressive than the old-school approach (There’s nothing wrong with the new school approach; I jut live in fear that people are forgetting it.) is Scott’s choice of focus for the film. He alternates between Connie in the control room, Frank and Will on the opposing train, the news-media zipping around the scene, and the runaway train itself. His camera angles and (outstanding) sound design transform the unmanned machine from a simple hunk of metal to something alive, a villainous, howling monster bent on devouring whatever winds up in its path. Frank and Will become reluctant dragonslayers, both out for some measure of redemption to counter disappointments in their lives. Scott doesn’t dwell on this, though. He leaves it firmly in the background. In this flick, the thrills are the star.

It would’ve been easy for Scott to simply make Unstoppable in the vein of the classic disaster-thrillers of the 70s, without any real sense of new technique or invention, but that’s enough. He uses the news media –field reporters, choppers and all- both as a medium of plot and tension. He transports us into the homes of the people watching the catastrophe unfold through his use of news cameras, and sends news helicopters swirling around our villain until it seems to be everywhere all at once. We all get tense when we hear news reports like this anyway, so why not use it to enhance the film? My only gripe is that the news correspondents were often just repeating what the characters had just said. Other than, it’s an excellent device.

The cast is all top notch, though it’s Washington who (as usual) steals the show. He’s not really playing a character. He’s Denzel Washington on a train, but you love him anyway because…well, because it’s Denzel. Pine hangs with him though, somehow managing to hold onto the scenes Washington would normally steal. Dawson thrives in the crisis control room scenario, and Dunn is great at playing the jerk big-wig (You’ve seen him in similar roles elsewhere; you just didn’t know his name.)

There’s nothing particularly original about the story of Unstoppable, or the characters that inhabit its world, but that doesn’t stop it from being a blast. It’s a film about ordinary working people attempting the extraordinary, made by a filmmaker who knows exactly what he’s doing, and it all comes together to make a great popcorn thrill ride. 

Matt’s Call: The tension kicks up within the first ten minutes and doesn’t stop for the whole length of the film. You’ll feel like time vanished when the lights come up, and it was time well-spent.

New on Blu-Ray: "Clash of The Titans," a film so corny it's impossible not to enjoy.

What Perseus doesn't know is that we've switched the bag carrying Medusa's head with one filled to the brim with delicious, fiber-packed Pegasus droppings. Let's watch what happens now...

This year's Clash of the Titans remake drops in its 3-disc Blu-Ray format this week. Lots of people gave this flick crap, but I enjoyed it for what it was: a giant cornball rolling downhill with the speed of a thousand Grecian stallions. And if you don't buy that explanation, at least it wasn't The Lightning Thief.

Clash is corny, bloated…and loads of fun

I really have no patience for movie snobs.

I mention this because Clash of the Titans is exactly the kind of film that the more pretentious among us would decry before even seeing it as a “stupid” and “unimportant” flick that insults the intelligence of its viewers and relies on little more than a giant budget and special effects to entertain. 

Yes, there are definitely films out there that insult our intelligence. Lots of them. And yes, those films are often monumentally bad and still make loads of money due to overpaid stars, overpolished CGI and overstuffed marketing campaigns. It’s the price you pay for having movie studios. There is a bottom line at stake, and sometimes that bottom line is improved by selling a few action figures and happy meals. 

But when did we decide that popcorn cinema is such a bad thing? Yes, loads of terrible big budget films have emerged in the past 30 years, and loads more will follow, but that doesn’t mean a film has to be “important” to be seen. We don’t ask a magician to explain the fragility of human existence to us while he’s cutting a woman in half on stage. We don’t ask a balloon artist to make us weep with empathy for the bright pink dog she’s twisting up. We shouldn’t ask every single filmmaker that steps behind a camera to change the way we look at the world, either. 

Sometimes, you just want to see Zeus release the Krakon.

A remake of the 1981 cult classic, Clash is the story of Perseus (Sam Worthington) a man who, after tragedy strikes his family, vows vengeance against the Gods, only to realize that he’s half divine himself, being the son of a mortal woman and Zeus (Liam Neeson). 

The world is changing. Man is rebelling against Olympus, and the Gods are angry, particularly at the city of Argos, where the monarchy has declared themselves Gods among men. Seeking vengeance, and a chance to put the puny humans in their place, Zeus calls upon Hades (Ralph Fiennes) to deliver an ultimatum. Sacrifice the beautiful Princess Andromeda (Alexa Davalos) in ten days, or the Krakon, a great beast responsible for deposing the Titans and putting the Gods in power, will be released on the city.

Unwilling to follow the orders of the Gods, Perseus and a small band of soldiers, accompanied by a mysterious woman named Io (Gemma Arterton), set out to find a solution that will allow them to slay the great beast. Their adventure leads them to encounters with a broad array of monsters, including a disgraced king (Jason Flemyng), giant scorpions, a tribe of jinn, Stygian witches and the Gorgon Medusa. 

Sadly, nothing about the film particularly sticks out as fantastic. It’s almost all good, or at least OK, but none of it’s great. Still, that doesn’t mean you don’t have a blast watching it. It’s corny, sure, but we have to face facts here. When you have giant scorpions crawling across the desert, and a God clad in a suit of glittering armor for half the flick, you really can’t expect to take it too seriously. And that’s OK, particularly because it seems director Louis Leterrier (The Incredible Hulk) inherently knows this, and milks it for all it’s worth. If you’ve got a giant scorpion, you’ve got to have fun with it, and Leterrier definitely does. 

Still, there are glaring flaws. Worthington, fresh off the mega success of Avatar, seems to be simply going through the motions for much of the flick. His Perseus is limp, listless and at times just plain lame. The script may be partly to be blame, but even an action hero has to find an emotional core regardless of how many lines you have. The real treat here is Fiennes, who revels in the villainy of Hades, and clearly doesn’t mind getting slightly campy for the sake of his role.

Sam Worthington prepares to unleash a krakon of a different kind on Gemma Arterton.

 So, if you can set aside whatever snobbery you might have attained regarding campy, corny blockbusters, Clash of the Titans, for all its flaws (not the least of which is that the title itself is a misnomer), is a ride worth taking. And trust me, the trailer isn’t a tease. There is a Krakon. It is unleashed. Nerd glee ensues.

Matt’s Call: Definitely worth checking out if you love big flicks with big monsters and big effects. Don’t expect to be able to suspend disbelief. Just go with it.

New on Blu-Ray: "Avatar: The Super-Mega-Ultra Give Us Your Money Edition with extra special features that prove yet again how brilliant James Cameron is." [Feel the sarcasm.]

The best part of this magical alien world? Our farts all smell like newly-fallen jasmine blossoms.

Avatar, the highest-grossing movie ever made by humans that made braids sexy, will hit shelves everywhere Tuesday as an uber-special three disk edition, just in time for the holiday season. So, yeah, if you know an over-involved nerd who likes to get all fetishy and LARP around in blue alien paint, or a mid-life crisis type who likes nothing better than to show off his 72 inch plasma screen to every guest that ever sets foot in his house, now's the time to set aside Christmas funds for this bad boy.

I was initially going to give my original review of Avatar, but that's something I can simply sum up right now: neato special effects, corny script, predictable plot, mediocre movie. Instead, I'll direct you to something I wrote in September, when James Cameron and company rolled the flick back into theatres as a special extended edition with nine more minutes of footage. I really don't think I was being too harsh.

Avatar returns, more bloated than before

When Avatar, James Cameron’s mega blockbuster sci-fi flick that quickly became the highest-grossing film ever, hit theatres last year, I avoided the bandwagon and gave it a moderate review.

I did not do this because I have no interest in bandwagons. I did this because, for all its ambition, technical prowess and sheer scope, Avatar remains in my eyes a very mediocre film, particularly when you consider the past body of work of its creator, a canon that includes genre-defining films like Aliens and Titanic.

 

When awards season came around, and it became clear that the main contenders for the major hunks of gold would be Avatar and Kathryn Bigelow’s war film The Hurt Locker, I began a personal campaign to take the big blue alien movie down in favor of the tighter, heavier and in my opinion, much better film made by Ms. Bigelow.

Again, I did not do this because I have some personal vendetta against James Cameron, super blockbusters or blue aliens. I did this because The Hurt Locker is a better film than Avatar.

In spite of my own lukewarm response to the film, Avatar went on to earn throngs of fans the world over and make 20^th Century Fox roughly $3 billion, and that’s not counting DVD sales, toys, video games and whatever else they can manage to market. That’s just movie tickets, folks.

And that’s OK. I’m not bitter. All those billions of dollars simply mean that other people saw something I didn’t see and loved the flick. It’s good to love movies. I encourage loving movies, even bad ones. 

With that in mind, I’m not here to tell you it’s wrong to like Avatar, or tell you you’re stupid because you like it or that James Cameron has become a self-important preacher with a camera and every dollar you give him only serves to further provoke him. James Cameron is a brilliant filmmaker, one of those guys who does things no one else ever dared to do. He’s a game-changer, and he’s proved that more than once.

But I have to be honest; this Avatar thing has just gone too far.

In August 20^th Century Fox re-released the film in 3D and IMAX 3D theatres across the United States, and other countries re-opened the film on their own 3D screens over the next few weeks. The re-released film includes nine minutes of previously unseen footage, including a few more seconds of that oh-so-captivating alien sex scene. According to an interview Cameron gave on the project, each of those nine minutes cost at least $1 million to finalize for the new release. That’s $9 million added to a film that already had a budget of at least $300 million.

I don’t know who to put the blame on for all of this, and I don’t even know how much I care (enough to write a column about it, obviously, but let’s move on), but I’m forced to ask a simple question: Why?

The movie made a gajillion dollars, and Cameron is already at work on two sequels, each of which will probably make even more than a gajillion dollars each. Oh, and did I mention he’s going to convert Titanic to 3D for a 2012 release? Yeah, this after lambasting other filmmakers for pulling the 3D post-conversion on films that he deemed not worthy (note how in this interview he also demeans "cashing in").

Like I said, we’re talking about a brilliant man, someone with a greater impact on American culture than I could ever hope to have, but it’s honestly enough to make me cringe, especially when all these bells and whistles are being added seemingly in the name of spreading some kind of message. Don’t get me wrong, Avatar has a message, but it’s a message I’d much rather get watching Fern Gully: The Last Rainforest.

Wait. I don't have to braid my hair and have sex with the bat, do I?

 And as for the 3D thing…People have been asking me about the 3D thing for a year now, and I can say with a certain amount of pride that I have never yet dropped cash for a 3D movie ticket. That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t; it’s just a special feature that I don’t need muddling my movie experience, that’s all. Also, it gives me a headache.

The point of all this, I think, is that movies are becoming less like movies and way too much like theme park rides for my taste. I don’t care how much technology you throw at me. If I can predict your story, snicker at your dialogue and mock your plot twists, you didn’t make a great movie. I don’t care if I can feel like a fist is coming out of the screen. If I don’t care about the body that fist is attached to, you didn’t make a great movie. I love event cinema, really I do, but things like this that make me worried for its future.

If you really can’t pry yourself away from those blue aliens and their freaky ponytails, go ahead and pay out more money for the return of “Avatar,” but the rest of us will wait for something new. This is already stale.

Notice to Holiday Haters

Charlie Brown pondered the true meaning of Christmas too. I've seen this special about 8,000 times. Nope, not sick of it.

Like most American children, my early years were filled with unrelenting delight at the very mention of Christmas, Santa, presents, snow and bells that happen to jingle. I don’t think economy matters much to kids when it comes to Christmas. I was raised in a middle class home, and I never got particularly extravagant gifts, but when you’re a kid, the enthusiasm at even the faintest hint of the holiday season is the stuff of sleepless nights and bed-jumping glee.

I assumed that this would fade a little as a got older, that the troubles and cares of my adult life would somewhat overshadow the boatloads of happy that came in waves every December. I was wrong about that. I’m 24 now, with car payments, student loans and a job that involves long hours for much less money than I’d like, but at Christmas that all fades into the background.

And I don’t just mean that I get really smiley around the holidays and get suddenly nicer to the people around me, or that I enjoy putting a few strands of lights up around my house. Those things are both true, but I go beyond that. When the holiday season kicks in, I become what Woody Allen calls “unbearably wonderful.” I could care less about how much things cost or how much time I spend; all that matters to me is the end result: a Christmas with fully-decked halls, a fully-stocked tree and fully-widened grins (And pie. Lots and lots of pie.).

I understand that not everyone feels this way about the season. I understand that some people’s cares and troubles are likely to outweigh their concern about when “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” will once again air on television. I also understand that not everyone is as enthusiastic about carols, candy canes and Chris Cringle as I am. But this Christmas, I have a simple request: Keep the cynicism to yourself.

Yes, I know the Christmas decorations started going up around us the moment the Halloween decorations came down. Yes, I know that certain radio stations play carols for two months straight. Yes, I know that everyone is already pushing you to buy everything from the latest video game craze to a giant inflatable Snoopy for your lawn. I know that not all of you can love this. I’ll even be willing to venture that some of you flat out hate it. But do the bad vibes have to get spewed out at everyone during the days of Holly and Jolly?

I’ve seen it from my Facebook friends, my Twitter followers, even in writings printed in the newspaper I work for. I’ve heard it firsthand from people standing in checkout lines or walking in malls. “What’s with these decorations? It’s November! Carols make my ears bleed. I’m already tired of Christmas. When can it just be over?”

While I can appreciate the fact that for some people Christmas is a gauntlet of annoying relatives, calorie-laden foods and very, very high credit card bills, I have a question for those among you who love to embrace the whole “Christmas is so commercialized and lame and long and blah blah blah” thing: Honestly, what are you complaining about?

Decorations are pretty. Carols sound nice. Presents are fun to give to people. Cookies are delicious (Well…most of them.). Santa is jolly (Or not, depending on which mall you visit.). Yes, it means spending money and planning things and staying up late wrapping gifts, but is it really all that bad? My parents scrimped and saved, literally penny by penny, all year long to give us the presents we wanted, and I know they were exhausted by Dec. 26, but they took joy in seeing our faces light up when we saw the pile of presents under the tree (and they still do). I’m not saying it’s always oodles of fun, but sometimes the point of the holiday season is to bring joy as much as you take it.

I’ve seen lots of kids in the town where I live who get nothing on Christmas but a $5 gift from a nonprofit group, and they squeal with joy. For a $5 gift. And lest I make you believe that it’s all about presents, let me say this: Christmas, whether it starts on Nov. 1 or Dec. 23, is about joy: giving it, taking it, sharing it, celebrating being here. It sounds cheesy, but it’s true. So what if it’s commercialized? It’s pretty and fun and bright, and in these times, we can’t afford to waste our cynicism on something this geared toward happiness (also cheesy, also true). All of us (even those of us who aren’t down with the whole “Glory to the newborn King” bit) can get behind that, right?

I think it was Paul McCartney who said: “And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make.” Think about that next you want to gripe about “The Most Wonderful Time of the Year.” Happy Holidays.

The 80s-Tastic Moment of the Week [Holy Merchandising Rights, Batman!]

Hi, my name is Matthew, and I'm a Batman geek.

I've been a Batman geek, I think, since I was old enough to pronounce the word "Batman," and for me, as a child of the 1980s, my obsession with the Caped Crusader begins with Tim Burton's 1989 film adaptation starring Michael Keaton, Jack Nicholson and Kim Basinger (with songs by Prince, of course).

There are things wrong with this film. I don't think any Batman geek would argue otherwise, but it holds a special place in my heart for several reasons. For one, even if it's not the best Batman flick ever, it managed to capture a magically dark tone that would set the standard for how the Dark Knight was supposed to be portrayed on film (This, I think, is one of MANY reasons why we Bat-Geeks continue to denounce the candy-colored films of the Joel Schumacher era.). A new mystique was attached to the hero, a mystique that took its cues from the Batman stories of Frank Miller and Alan Moore. For those of us who couldn't read yet when those comics came out, Batman was the introduction to the dreary, gargoyle-festooned world of Gotham and the creatures that prowled it.

I was three when the flick came out, and didn't actually see it until it was released on home video. I remember watching it on VHS at a cousin's house and wanting to bolt from the room when the Joker's slime-coated hand emerged after his fall into the chemical vat. That's my clearest memory of it, really. What really stuck with me from that era, what fostered my true love of The World's Greatest Detective, were the toys.

The 80s were an altogether great time for toys, but the Batman toys that came out in the wake of Burton's flick were particularly awesome. And the commercials to promote said toys? Even more awesome.



Dig that Batarang gun. I actually had that action figure, and I can assure you the thing had nowhere near that amount of firepower. Also, the Joker's face did change color in water, but after a while, if you weren't careful, the face would basically morph into a weird combination of tan and white (which if you did the Heath Ledger Joker is actually kind of amazing). Also, I'm not sure why they decided to make the Bat-Jet shaped like a Dust Buster with wings, but the projectile that came out of that thing did have the power to put your Dad in an eyepatch for several weeks, so there's a silver lining.

Want more? Of course you do.


Ah, the amazing gold Batman action figure. I got it, and still have it. It's sitting on one of our bookcases as I write this, though the oddly-shaped glider has long since perished. I'm really not sure where they got the idea to call it a "Tech Shield" suit. I'm not even really sure what that is, nor do I remember it being on the box. I just remember seeing a commercial for a gold Batman and knowing I must have it.

But the exploits of the Dark Knight in the world of retail were not limited to toys. Oh no. He also launched a full-on assault on breakfast.


I want to go back in time and demand my parents buy this for me. I have no idea what it tasted like, but I bet I would've spent the rest of the day trying to fight crime (like I didn't do that anyway).

But wait, there's more:


No, you didn't just accidentally drop acid. That was a commercial for Batman-shaped cookies....in Spanish...with Prince's "Batdance" in the background...and yes, the cookie boxes were FLYING! How can you not love the 80s?

But the commercial I remember most fondly from this age of Gotham excess is this one, featuring Michael Gough as Alfred. It's just a Diet Coke ad, but Michale Gough and the cape on the damn soda can make it fan-frickin-tastic.


So now Alfred can give Bruce a break and send Diet Coke out to battle The Riddler...you know, with the power of Aspartame!


And by the way, lest ye think me a cynic with nothing better to do than mock, I really do love all of this stuff. It reminds me of being on my bedroom floor, arranging epic battles with my action figures (it was one big comic book crossover in there) and not worrying about anything other when Mom was going to make brownies again.

Does anyone else want to spend too much money in the Collectibles section of Ebay after all that?

"Due Date" delivers

The "Check yourself before you wreck yourself" line really is as funny as you thought it was gonna be.

 

It was probably sort of a given that I’d like something that combines the talents of Robert Downey Jr. (Iron Man) and Zach Galifianakis (The Hangover). I knew that from the moment I started seeing trailers for “Due Date,” the latest flick from comedy hitmaker Todd Phillips (The Hangover, Old School). The question was never going to be whether or not I liked it, but whether or not I loved it. 

I could always keep you in suspense about this, but I doubt you’d really be guessing anyway. Of course I loved it. Due Date is exactly the kind of movie I’m known to enjoy: fast-paced, raunchy, cleverly anarchic and hilarious. 

Peter (Downey) is a high strung architect trying to get home to Los Angles after a business trip in Atlanta for the birth of his first child with wife Sarah (Michelle Monaghan). After an unfortunate misunderstanding on a plane lands him on the no-fly list, he’s forced to ride cross-country with obnoxious, childish and just plain eccentric Ethan (Galifianakis). What follows is a mad romp of fights, crashes, drug dealers, masturbating dogs and accidental border crossings.

It was inevitable that most fans of Phillips’ work (like myself) would begin comparing Due Date with his other recent comedy mega-hit The Hangover, which I named one of my ten favorite films of 2009. They have the same madcap feel, the same urgency, the same high energy. But apart from a similar comedic pacing, they’re actually quite different. While The Hangover is a definitely a more energetic film, packed with joke after joke and close call after close call, Due Date is a more layered, more patient movie. The laughs are there in plenty, and they’re well timed and delivered, but what sets this film apart from its predecessor, is its attention to character. The Hangover might still be funnier, but Due Date tells a better story.

On the surface Peter is an uptight guy forced to ride with a moron and get back to his life, but beneath all that is a man terrified of being close to people, terrified of relying on others, worrying over how everything will work if he’s not in control. On the other side of things is Ethan, who is largely a buffoon, but is also a man in mourning, terrified of being along, clinging to any human contact he can get in the wake of tragedy. These two elements combine to make something that’s not just “Odd Couple” style humor, but also the stuff of true emotional impact. 

This couldn’t be achieved without the talents of the film’s two stars. Downey is a fantastic straight man, but also a fantastic jerk, and he intertwines those two with the kind of subtlety that only he can muster. This may be a silly buddy picture played for nothing but laughs, but it’s still helmed by one of the finest actors in a generation. Someone once said Downey is capable of playing two emotions at the same time, and even through the goofery of this flick you can see it. Galifianakis is no slouch either. Largely know for his surrealist standup comedy and a similar buffoon role in The Hangover, he finds a depth here that no one could have predicted. He’s not DeNiro, but he certainly turns in a surprisingly meaty performance.

If there’s a problem with Due Date, it’s that I’m beginning to worry that Phillips might fall into a pattern with his flicks. Take some dudes with differing approaches to life, put them in a compromising situation, make mayhem ensue, and in the end they all learn something. It’s a pretty broad concept, I grant you, but when you throw in the fact that the flicks have the same visual and comic style, you start to walk a thin line when you’re grasping for distinctions. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not even close to happening yet, but it’s something that might creep in. Beware.

So yes, I loved Due Date for many reasons, and found very few faults in its comic chaos. The Hangover was not a fluke. Todd Phillips is a new comedy superpower set to rival Judd Apatow. The Hangover Part II is filming right now. Let’s hope he doesn’t blow it.

Matt’s Call: It’s the funniest movie of the year so far. It’s not for everyone, but I laughed until I wheezed.

P. S. Yes, this film bears a resemblance to the John Hughes classic Planes, Trains and Automobiles. Yes, I'm OK with that. It's not a remake. It's not a ripoff. It's another buddy road movie. They happen. Get over it.