Ten years ago I began my career as a Professional Cinema Critic. I was published (albeit via very discreditable rags) all over this uppity nation, and when I’d insult Mike Myers they’d eat it up in England. I wasn’t happy, but I was succeeding.
At the bottom of this post (so you won’t click away prematurely) lies a link to what has happened to film criticism since my salad days. Frankly, having been in the game in a significant way, I’d say that now being an intelligent, NON-PAYOLA (Hiya, Dargis!) movie critic is like being a good singer and wanting to perform, and then suddenly the local Talent Show admits all the tone-deaf people to come puke on the mic and make everybody confused and sick. I’m all for freedom of expression — but intelligence and some degree of human compassion should be mandatory before people are allowed to spew all over everybody else.
Incidentally, I didn’t even read this critic’s review (they all look alike now anyway); I’m talking about the comments thereupon.
The two non-psychotic comments I sincerely enjoyed are actually within the same comment:
1. The one which asks the purpose of Sam Worthington. Really, having observed this…actor, is it?… in that Terminator…continuation, I really must say: Sam is very un-Worthington. What a bore! If he changes my opinion as an ugly tall blue cat (or — WOWZERS! FORTY-FOOT-TALL SCORPIONS! WHAT A GREAT REMAKE! — as “Perseus”), I’ll let you know. But I doubt it. I wonder if the casting director whom Worthington masterfully fellated was in Australia or America.
2. Likening “Pandora” to a “Yes album cover” is GENIUS. That is FUNNY!!! (But of course, nobody yet has bothered to mention that even the name “Pandora” for an alien world is TOTALLY 100% STOLEN WITHOUT EVEN AN ATTEMPT TO MODIFY IT. CAMERON, HAVE YOU NO SHAME AT ALL? NONE?)
Okay, and let’s blow out the pipes…Ewoks, Jar Jar, Kashyyyk, Starship Troopers (which, I hasten to remind the masses, was a popular little book a few years before it became a really terrific and woefully misunderstood movie), Dances With Smurfs, Fern Gully With Guns, Delgo 2, etc. etc. etc.
Okay, I think I’ve pretty much gotten all the pre-viewing disappointment out of my system.
Oh, I don’t like the score much.
Okay.
Actually, I’m going to see Avatar this week with a friend, in the best possible way to see it (though I’m considering bringing earplugs), and I even enjoyed seeing Speed Racer with said friend — even though Speed Racer gave me about 6% total of what I actually WANTED from a Speed Racer movie.
Thus, all pre-viewing dread considered, it’ll be fun — and I’ll be a good boy and enjoy the designs and stuff. I’m already aware that humans are destroying the ecosystem at an alarming and irreversible rate, so Cameron’s ham-fisted allegory (I thought he was ham-fisted when I was a kid way back in ‘84, with his whoops-apocalypse worldview; I still had fun seeing the first Terminator) won’t bother me, I figure.
(As of this posting, I haven’t seen it yet. Not-so-strangely ambivalent about it. I’m sure I’ll have some modest geek love for it — but I also consider Cameron’s “imagination” dubious, and the alleged budget for this thing obscene — plus it bothers me when people totally steal ideas without even trying to modify them. This delay is a trend: I shunned Terminator 2 until months after it opened, and Titanic until years after it opened. Don’t push me. This one may happen a little sooner — when convenient. I like Aliens — for the slammin’ Starship Troopers ripoff that it is (and here we go again?) — but Cameron’s hype eclipses his good work. And as for the proclamations of a CG/3D “revolution” — that ain’t gonna happen. A bit more originality, please; that’s all we need. Cheers. ~G)
Hi. How do? I don’t feel like saying anything interesting today; I just want to get my work done, eat dark chocolate, and make my way into night and the week-end without anybody insane yelling at me.
Since it’s “Black Friday,” here’s not one but FOUR clips from a movie serving as loose pun. The first one can serve as your free, four-minute tour of almost all there is to see in and of L.A. The others are self explanatory…and amusing…
Incidentally, girls: DON’T do it with him. Seriously:
P.S. I didn’t name the movie; these embeds are in no way intended to advance or support any belief in a “supreme being” (which isn’t arrogance, btw — it’s COMMON SENSE).
Growing up during the era I did (and still am doing), I usually half-expect everybody I like to die — and yet for Donald Fagen, Michael McDonald and Lionel Richie to carry on making me crave death.
Thus it is with some significant pleasure that I herald a new single (and video) from Roger Taylor — founding member (and sometime vocalist) of Queen, thoughtful entertainer, and lifelong shoe whore.
Below, you’ll find “The Unblinking Eye (Everything Is Broken).”
I love Roger Taylor. I love Brian May. They are Honourary Uncles to me. (Let me make that official, here and now.) I also love John Deacon, and salute him for creating two of the greatest pop singles ever (even if one of them was a total lift from Chic/Nile Rodgers), and I respect his choice to retire from the game (pun almost intended).
To the point, there are a couple of Roger’s songs that make me so happy I could jump up and down.
This is not one of those songs — however, obviously, it isn’t intended to be.
Given that there’s almost literally no substance whatsoever to contemporary pop music — I am so very glad I don’t watch television! — I am respectful of Roger’s choice to vent his frustrations at a world gone mad. The world has gone mad. Don’t look at Michelle’s dress — it totally doesn’t matter. Look at health care, the economy, the war situation, education, poverty, very real global warming, etc. etc. etc.
There is a lot to consider.
Roger’s totally humourless approach, however, leaves much to be desired. I like that he made this song, and I like its bold, breathy “I must be gettin’ old” bridge and instrumental break well enough. However, the total joylessness, coupled with the puzzling one-man-band-ness of it — immensely complicated by his being a superwealthy Boomer who’s seen it all, had it all, and done it all — does ring a bit…maybe not false…but definitely off.
Also — frankly — the thing is too long (there’s not enough variation to sustain its length), and the video (do tombstones really give a person’s age?) is way too on-the-nose (yet petty) — and (it pains me to say this), speaking of “petty,” it really does sound like Tom Petty and Jeff Lynne having an off day whilst attempting a “Thom Yorke sound” on one of Roger Waters’ cast-offs.
It’s odd: I love this guy — but this song is really hard to love.
(I think I want one of those zany “noise-sticks,” though.)
A salute to Honourary Uncle, Roger Taylor — for showing up and putting out new work (notably, on the eve of the anniversary of Freddie’s death) — but please, Uncle, we already know the world is fucked. From now on, feel free to have more fun on the job; that’s why we love you. And Brian, too. Do it ’til you’re ninety; we’ll show up.
This’ll save a lot of time (for people who believe in “time”) and energy; rather than viewing an exhausting bunch of forgettable movies and sitting through an even more exhausting Oscar broadcast, I’m giving you the sneak peek at the winners, above.
I loved Coraline, Watchmen, I Love You, Man and Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince (I PAID to see two of those!) — but The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus is the very best movie I’ve seen this year; it has already become one of my very favourite movies ever.
Alas that mysterious forces conspired to cancel my brief-but-vital chat with T.G. this week — that’s unfortunate; but maybe it’ll happen before the movie FINALLY gets released in slow-ass America (it’s already open around the world) — however, although the interview is strongly preferred, in December I’ll at least make some sort of highly-approving nod toward the ol’ Imaginarium.
Meanwhile, you may note that I am somewhat consistent in rooting for the home team. I barely remember writing the reviews linked below (these have been hard goddammed years) — but they speak volumes for how I already feel, and think, about Gilliam’s gifts.
And before most of you see the new movie (do see the new movie), here’s a little local introduction from the man himself:
I kinda wish I’d seen this before becoming A Brilliant and Award-Winning Cinema Critic Par Excellence* — but, hey, at least I’ve moved past that phase now. It’s still a riot for those who remember; check it out:
(*I employ this sort of phraseology, incidentally, not due to any delusions of grandeur — but because so many people here** actually believe this sort of stupid bombast about themselves that I feel it my duty to mock it.)
What makes tonight’s selection special? Well, it’s a Hammer Dracula film, for one! For another, it’s got the hella-gorgeous Caroline Munro in it (hers is certainly that very rare actress’ autograph I cherish; got it at Hollywood’s and the American Cinematheque’s fabled Egyptian theatre, while she was sitting right beside Forrest J. Ackerman!) — and, best of all, it’s got The World’s Greatest Actor Ever, Christopher Lee — as Dracula — transposed (along with Peter Cushing as dauntless Van Helsing) to the swinging London of 1972!
Yes, it’s Dracula A.D. 1972, and I love it. Why? Well, for one, you know those movie-dork guys who start screaming and swearing and spitting like little bitches if you don’t completely submit to their stupid opinions about “’70s movies, man! ’70s!!! FUCKIN’ ’70s!!!” (etc.)? — ah, well, here we fully concur: Dracula A.D. 1972 IS a “fuckin’ ’70s movie (man!!! — spit-spit) through and through, as it was lensed (by the wonderfully-named “Dick Bush”) in late 1971. It’s got period-specific music (though The Faces were unavailable), period-specific locales, and period-specific costumes. It’s got a semi-Mod antagonist called “Johnny Alucard.” And it’s got Lee and Cushing doing what they do best — albeit in Glam-era Chelsea!
This is probably my overall favourite movie on this list — which is not to disparage the brilliance of some of the others (including those shuffled off into Oblivion — bwah-hah-hah!…) — but I just think, given its charming absurdity, that it’s the coolest. It’s so cool that every time I’ve found a copy of it over the years, I have bought it (always in lovely, state-of-the-art VHS). But guess what? Now, thanks to the magic of the internet, you don’t have to go searching for it!
Here. This thing is utterly fab for Hallowe’en — and now you can watch it “with” me — in very high quality, in its entirety, for free.
(When this ends up on “Trailers from Hell,” incidentally, I want BIG royalties from any soulless dolt who couldn’t find an original idea with both hands. You also owe me for introducing you to The Apple.)
I am Gregory, Lord, God and Saviour of All Cinema* — and this is my Hallowe’en Gift to the World!
Hello. I dig Hallowe’en — thus do I regale you with my sweet selection of seasonally-appropriate scenes, in no particular order, essentially to amuse myself and possibly you. They won’t all be “scary,” and probably only two of them will come from the “slasher” subgenre — but they’re all either kooky, spooky or, in some cases, ooky. Trick (obviously) or treat! ~G
Mad week + long lists of fave films (some obscure, some popular) + multiple projects + “desolate L.A. feeling” = notta lotta moments for this lil’ list — but tonight I’ve got an Awesome Motion Picture for you! You see, this list began with the intention of citing specific, seasonally-appropriate scenes (not necessarily whole movies) — thus putting the “Treat” into “Trick or…” However, sometimes the scene is indicative of an Awesome Motion Picture, as is the case tonight.
It’s also an easy one for me, as it’s a film I’ve long enjoyed and cherished: John Landis’ An American Werewolf in London. Essentially a perfect movie (nudged out of the #1 spot in Landis’ canon only by the infinitely glorious The Blues Brothers), here’s a “monster movie” that’s got it all: Drama, comedy, horror, romance, special effects, tunes, travelogue, and disturbing-yet-socially-relevant metaphorical dream sequences.
A few years ago at the Saturn Awards, I found myself seated directly beside the world’s beloved “Pepper” himself, David Naughton — and I bow to him for his work here, as he is the soul of this very finest of werewolf movies: plaintive and paranoid and hysterical and just plain great: Oscar! (Sorry, Mr. Fonda.) Equally terrific is Griffin Dunne as his rotter of a friend — a role for the ages. And then there’s Jenny Agutter — who still gives boners to the older guys but, significantly, even pinged my radar (and I rarely remember actresses). Wrap ‘em all up in some of the smartest direction of any mainstream horror movie ever (even the late Jacko’s “Thriller” [also directed by Landis] wouldn’t exist without it), and you’ve got tonight’s rave: Absurdly obvious, perhaps, but after twenty-eight years (!!), perhaps some could benefit from the refresher.
Our selected scene ce soir may be just as obvious as the selection of the movie itself — but no less great for it! And note: If you haven’t seen it before (where have you been???), An American Werewolf in London is not all gross-out effects (most of which are used to comedic effect; suck it, pre-Rings Peter Jackson) — but rather a smart and elegantly-told tale of a young man driven beastly — as you’ll soon see (and note the genius cutaway of Mickey). Set to the eternally-awesome Sam Cooke, we have here a concoction unlike anything the movies had brought us before.
Hello. I dig Hallowe’en — thus do I regale you with my sweet selection of seasonally-appropriate scenes, in no particular order, essentially to amuse myself and possibly you. They won’t all be “scary,” and probably only two of them will come from the “slasher” subgenre — but they’re all either kooky, spooky or, in some cases, ooky. Trick (obviously) or treat! ~G
It wouldn’t be America without Batman; and what — apart from facial-tissue ghosts and pipe-cleaner spiders — are the most popular dangly things with which to decorate your domicile at Hallowe’entime? Well, exactly: latex BATS!
Like many American kids, I grew up with Batman as a significant part of our popular lore — however, it was the wonderful, jovial, exciting and highly intelligent 1960s television series which made me dig the character and his scenarios. Thus is the 1966 Batman movie my fave Batman movie (your arguments are nice, but hold no sway). And then we leap ahead over two decades to the newer films — which all have their qualities but of which I like Chris Nolan’s “real/serious” ones the least, frankly. (I get it — but I just don’t get it: Do Joker totally wrong once, that’s almost excusable; do Joker totally wrong twice? Now that’s insane. And don’t forget that the Batman character himself is inherently ridiculous.)
Anyway, my fave of the modern crop — and, thus, second fave Batman movie overall — is 1992’s Batman Returns, which I feel and felt (even before I discovered that a friend wrote it) gets the atmosphere “right,” gets the story “right,” gets the villains “right,” and even gets the madness and oogy sexuality “right.” Bravo!
Tonight’s Hallowe’en recommendation, however, is my third fave Batman movie, and it’s probably the best of the animated ones: The Batman vs. Dracula. Now you may laugh — I did — but despite the acclaim for Mask of the Phantasm, I think this… this… this… cartoon! …outperforms all the other cartoons (and most of the live-action movies). Why? It’s funny. It’s scary. It’s awesomely designed. The eerie musical score (by Thomas Chase Jones) is brilliant. It’s got rich characters, alluring romance (Vicky Vale!), freaky chills, and (in addition to wild turns from Joker and Penguin) the gnarliest villain ever to appear in the franchise.
I mean, sure, it’s also got its share of clunky dialogue, plus excesses of that “vicious squinting” which proves so popular amongst the kids and fanboys. So why do I love it? Because: “IT’S FUCKING COOL AS HELL!” — that’s why. (It would be cool, too, if my grandkids someday read that specific line of my rave as it appears emblazoned on this terrific movie’s brain-chip downloads.)
