DC vs Marvel at Comic-Con

There were all kinds of nerd-bombs unloaded upon a frothing populace of fanboys (and fangirls) last weekend, but the two biggest, megaton revelations came via Marvel/Disney, and DC/Warner Bros.

On the DC end, it was revealed that the follow-up to this year's mega-hit, MAN OF STEEL, will be a crossover film between Batman and Superman.  It was also heavily implied that they may have a bit of a tiff.  (Though the film itself will definitely NOT be an adaptation of Frank Miller's classic comic, THE DARK KNIGHT RETURNS.)

That's the good news.  The bad news, for me anyway, is that it's from the creative team behind Man Of Steel.  That film had some impressive destruction on display, but plenty of highly questionable writing and directing choices.  In addition to being really, really, boring.

And it's not going to be the Nolan Universe Batman.  So who would be the perfect man behind the cowl?  My buddy Pete recommend Byung-hun Lee; I could dig that.  WB might be hesitant following the box-office disaster that was The Lone Ranger, but I think Armie Hammer would be great.

Ok; some pretty big shit, no?  Marvel responded in kind with their little revelation about the second Avengers film.  Instead of focusing on Thanos, as had originally been suspected, it seems the big bad will be the perennial Avengers comic villain Ultron.  

I like the change-up.  It seems natural that the Avengers will face off with Thanos eventually, seeing as how he threw down the gauntlet in film one, but maybe they're waiting for part three to roll out the intergalactic big bad.  And if, as suspected, Tony Stark ends up being Ultron's creator (in a slight change from his comic book origins), that would tie in neatly with Stark's cinematic arc and centralized role on the team.

Meanwhile, in unrelated news, I'm just hoping for some more Pacific Rim.  My favorite film of the year so far has been floundering at the domestic box office, but foreign sales have been promising.  I need a sequel to that awesome shit!  C'mon Tokyo, check it out!

ONLY GOD FORGIVES

ONLY GOD FORGIVES (2013)
Director: Nicholas Winding Refn
Stars: Ryan Gosling, Kristin Scott Thomas, Vithaya Pansringarm

SYNOPSIS - Julian (Gosling) is an American expat, living in exile with his brother, with whom he manages a Muay Thai Boxing ring.  When said brother gets himself killed after doing something very, very, bad, Julian is visited by his terrifying gangster mother (Thomas), who demands vengeance for the death of her favorite son.  Local cop Lieutenant Chang (Pansringarm), an equally vengeful man, with a predilection for dismemberment, is the only thing that stands in her path, leaving Julian caught in the crossfire.

BREAKDOWN - Nicholas Winding Refn again teams with a near-mute Ryan Gosling to sneak a bizarro, art house homage to Jodorowsky into mainstream theaters, under the guise of a "thrill ride" Trojan horse.  This time, the parallels to good ol' Alejandro are slightly more direct, with a strong emphasis on body mutilation, religious iconography, and Freudian (barely) subtext.  
   

LOVED

TRANSFORMERS: DARK OF THE MOON

Michael Bay's films are much like the actresses he gets to star in them;  beautiful, yet completely vapid.  As such, as if on a date, I often find myself torn between lust and boredom.  Which feeling won out this round?

It's a lusty movie, if ever there was one.  Shit blows up, people get thrown, and chaos reigns.  "Chaotic" is what Mr. Bay does best, and when he's most truly in his element.  This doesn't reach the grandiose, madcap heights of the previous film, Revenge Of The Fallen (my favorite of the series so far), but the insanity is unleashed from frame one in an only slightly more focused capacity.

The set-up, involving the Apollo 11 landing being retconned to an alien first contact, is good old-fashioned goofy fun (and, I'm guessing, a Spielberg suggestion) that acts as solid track for this locomotive.  It doesn't all make sense, of course, but that's completely beside the point.

Supporting actors John Malkovich, John Turturro, Alan Tudyk and Frances McDormand all seem to be game for the proceedings, and seemingly given carte blanche to fuck around.  (I love imagining that, due to McDormand's presence, her husband, director Joel Coen, will be obligated to see this.)  I'd love to see a spin-off franchise starring Turturro and Tudyk as the world's most ridiculous secret agents, but their little moments here will likely be the most that I get.  Shia is fine, as usual, in the lead, and Rosie Huntington-Whiteley is, um. . .  present?

Peter Cullen returns as the robot John Wayne, Optimus Prime.  Anybody else notice that in the film series, Optimus is kind of a petty asshole?  He continues the trend in this film, cold-circuitedly murdering unarmed, wounded opponents, and lying to his friends for virtually no reason.  Leonard Nimoy joins the cast as the voice of Sentinel Prime.  (See if you can count the number of Star Trek references in the film.  I caught at least five.)

If one were to try to figure out the subtext of the whole film, I guess it could maybe be seen as an argument against withdrawal of US troops from the Middle East; and, by extension, an increase in our country's global influence.  As Optimus says several times throughout the film, the Autobots love freedom, and the Decepticons love. . .  "Not Freedom", I guess.  The Decepticons hate the electoral college.

I decided to see it in IMAX 3D format, which was quite the experience.  Is it necessary?  No;  although, being a movie where the spectacle is almost EVERYTHING, I would say that if you're going to see it, go ahead and see it in the theater.  The 3D was superb, possibly the best I've seen yet, and the scope of the Chicago battle scenes work well on a big-ass screen, but I think it would work just as well in a regular theater.

The use of 3D had another positive side-effect -- it forced Michael Bay to slow the fuck down with his camera-work and editing.  The guy has a good eye, and it was nice to be able to linger on some of the shots for longer than his usual millisecond.

As in a good dream, I'm immersed in sensual experience;  but as dawn arrives, it drifts away like vapor.

AMUSED BY

100 BULLETS

My planned reading material for summer vacation this year was early Conan the Barbarian stories by Robert E Howard - I like my beach material to be pulpy, sweaty, and uber-testosteroned (Just like I take my coffee).  Instead, I found myself sidetracked by an old friend - the comic series 100 BULLETS, which I had started years ago, but never got around to finishing after making it halfway through.

I'm glad that I waited.  Running for exactly one hundred issues between 1999 and 2009, the series teases out information in such a slow, deliberate fashion that the suspense would've probably killed me.  There are also so many twists, turns, and divergent storylines that it would've been difficult for me to follow had I read it over a long period of time.

It would be giving too much away to go into great detail about the plot of the series.  The setup is this:  We meet Dizzy Cordova, a Chicago-based ex-gang banger, just as she's being released from prison.  She still grieves over the death of husband and little boy, who were killed in a drive-by shooting while she was incarcerated.  On the L home to her mother's house, she meets a mysterious man named Agent Graves.  Graves informs her that despite her belief that her family was killed in retaliation by a rival gang, they were actually gunned down by two police officers.  He gives her an attache case containing irrefutable evidence confirming this fact, and something else; An "untraceable" gun, and a set of one-hundred bullets.  Will Dizzy use this information, and "magic" weapon, to extract vengeance?  Or has she truly left her violent past behind?

The series expands much farther beyond this, as you might imagine, but continues to revolve around a series of morality tales.  Tests of character, for those not so easily classified as "Good" or "Bad".  We meet various characters from different cities, different ethnic backgrounds - but all sharing an interlocking culture whose very foundation is formed from theft and violence.  Graves is one part Rod Serling, one part Crypt Keeper; setting stories in motion, then cooly watching the fates weave their webs.

Since comic books are a ghettoized medium, I guess it has to be said - No, you don't have to be a "comic book reader" to enjoy this series.  While the story is operatically heightened, you won't find anyone flying around in a cape and tights.  It's ultimately a mixture of a few different styles of writing that blend well together.  You've got the social commentary, and attention to regional dialect, of a Mark Twain or Charles Dickens; the twisted criminal plots, down on their luck characters, and love of pun-filled wordplay similar to authors such as Jim Thompson, Raymond Chandler or Dashiell Hammett; the conspiracy-filled works of authors Robert Shea, Richard Condon and Neal Stephenson; and the spy/action/adventure stories of Ian Fleming and John le Carre.  It sounds like something potentially overbearing, but it turns out that there's a little something for everyone in that heady mix.

Essentially, if you like sex, violence, and rock 'n' rock, this is a series for you.  Not all of the questions are answered in the end, but unlike with the show Lost, all of the important ones are, and it doesn't end up painting itself into a corner.  It's that rare work of art that not only thoroughly entertains, but leaves you with a slightly different perspective on the world around you.

ECSTATIC ABOUT

TREME: SEASON 1

It's all about the music.

Sure, you have your usual David Simon (The Wire, Generation Kill) elements:  A diverse cast of colorful characters; an exploration of social injustices being perpetrated on the "lower classes"; and a city that serves not only as setting, but as a protagonist/antagonist in its own right.  But what you'll find yourself doing after watching any individual episode will be singing the chorus to "Ghost of a Chance". . . or perhaps "My Indian Red".  This is the portrait of a city bonded by music.  Despite the divisions between people in Post-Katrina New Orleans - Black or White; Rich or Poor; Indian or Cop - everyone, but EVERYONE, knows the lyrics to all of the local standards.

The story arcs of the diverse characters share one common bond: it's about people learning to deal with the cards that fate hands you.  About being able to cope with loss.  Sometimes that's as trivial as losing a DJ job that you could care less about, and other times it's about the search for a brother who was lost in the system.  As David Simon once said, "There's no room for hope on The Wire.", but in Treme it's all about hope, despite the odds.

Everything about this show is as excellent as anticipated.  I leave it feeling informed, entertained, and moved (Yes, you will be crying!).  A slight caveat is that it might do more for big fans of New Orleans Jazz than it did for me;  While the "real people" cameos in The Wire were smoothly integrated into the narrative, here they're about as subtle as Vincent Price showing up on the Muppet Show (with a slightly different Kermit).

LOVED

DEATH TO GENRE

I'm an American male of Irish ancestry.

Knowing only that, what could you tell about me?

Grasping at straws in the dark, you might guess that I'm a drinker, a fighter, and a person prone to melancholy (Socially; Occasionally; and who isn't?).  What you wouldn't be able to guess from just knowing my tribal heritage is that I'm a film nerd, I hate coleslaw, and that I possess a bright yellow bag with the words "Let's Be Eco-Friendly!" printed on the side.

In other words:  Ancestry tells you a lot, but not much that's important and unique.  Genre - being the classification of film and literature into categories like Horror, Action, Romance, etc - functions in a similar fashion:  It's a helpful shorthand for knowing the broad strokes about a film - but who cares about the broad strokes?  The devil, and the fun, is all in the details.

Am I advocating the expulsion of Genre categories from Netflix Instant?  Nah.  If people are looking to get scared, it makes sense to look in the Horror section first and foremost.  This is a plea for filmmakers and film connoisseurs to think outside the pre-packaged boxes.

What's the harm in Genre?  Well, staying on Horror for a moment, let me ask you this:  Why is the acting in Horror films so often terrible?  Give up?  The answer is, mainly, that we, as a culture, EXPECT the acting in Horror films to be terrible.  Once, long ago, people were trying to make so-called Horror Films that were actually, genuinely good - but they were made fast, cheap, and often by first-time directors.  As such, a template was formed - "Horror Films will henceforth be shitty because that's what we're used to now".  Occasionally, a director will make a good film that's designed to scare the pants off of people - such as The Exorcist or Silence Of The Lambs - but these efforts are so few and far between that they're either referred to as "transcending" the genre, or labeled as a different genre altogether (Lambs was referred to as a "Thriller", very pointedly).

So, in the creation of a film, the writer/director/studio labels it as "Horror", and either subconsciously or intentionally gives it a set of parameters in which to play.  Conversely, the viewer comes to the finished product with certain expectations.  Horror has become a ghettoized genre, and films attempting to frighten an audience aren't often given a fair shake on either end of the creative process.

Let me tell you something else about myself - I'm also of English and German heritage.  Probably a lot of other stuff, too.  Whether through crossbreeding or just influence, there aren't a lot of "pure" cultures left anymore - everyone has influenced everyone else.  Likewise, movies aren't often just one thing.  Evil Dead 2 is classified as a Horror film - but it's also really funny.  Is it more of a Horror Film than a Comedy?  Does Rock beat Scissors, so to speak?

Maybe people can see past their pre-conceptions, but I've recently realized that I have difficulty with it.  Despite my experience, or perhaps because of it, I EXPECT a Horror film to be a certain way, and I EXPECT a Romantic Comedy to be another way.

Maybe it's completely naive, but I'd like to believe that films, like people, can define themselves.  I'm not simply Irish-American, English-American or German-American. . .  I am Phil Dean, the Alpha and Omega of myself.  I, like all people. . .  like all movies. . .  take bits and pieces of influence from everything that I've seen, touched, heard and experienced.  To say that I'm a Man is true.  To say that I'm American is true.  Even to be as specific as to call me a Movie Nerd would be true, but it doesn't define everything about me.

To contradict the words of Tyler Durden - I am a unique snowflake, and so is everyone else.  It stands to reason that our works should be equally varied.

MIDNIGHT IN PARIS

If you had told me that there was a new film directed by Woody Allen, starring Owen Wilson, that was actually really good, I would've said you were crazy.  Yet. . .  here we are, the roles reversed, with myself as the crier and you, dear reader, as the disbelieving consumer.

It's not a movie for everyone, to be certain - I would hope, at this point, you wouldn't be expecting anthropomorphic robots and explosions from the Woodster - but it's charming, evenly paced, and the kind of straight-forward feel-good movie that leaves me floating.

Owen plays a successful screenwriter who aspires to be a novelist, traveling in Paris with his bride to be (Rachel McAdams), and her disapproving parents.  While McAdams and family galumph through the city as the traditional Ugly Americans (led, in part, by McAdam's old friend, and onetime love interest Michael Sheen, in a hilariously douchey role), Wilson finds an intimate connection with all the beauty and history surrounding him.  Quite literally, in fact. . .  One night, while wandering through the city's street, he ends up at a party hosted by the Lost Generation.  Before he even knows what's happening, he's drinking champagne with the Fitzgeralds, being threatened by Hemingway, and having his rough draft reviewed by Gertrude Stein.  Caught between two worlds - the modern at daytime, and the roaring twenties at night - he finds inspiration and a renewed sense of purpose.

You're not going to find anything new here - you've seen this type of story before, and you know exactly where it's going.  And, to be frank, the "cameos" play out like porn for lit nerds.  But the cast is extremely game; the city, and photography, are gorgeous (thanks to master DP Darius Khondji); and there's a sense of romance and joie de vivre seeping out of every frame.  Its not a groundbreaking work of life-altering art - but who cares?  It's fun, and I love it more every time I think about it.

LOVED

THE TREE OF LIFE

The enigmatic Terrence Malick strikes again.  I watched this last weekend at the Michigan Theater in Ann Arbor, amidst a decently populated house.  The majority of the audience came to see a new Brad Pitt and/or Sean Penn film, and were wholly unprepared for what was in store.  Well, really, we all were.  Even with my knowledge and experience of Malick's previous works, I sheltered myself from the hype enough that I wasn't sure where he was taking me on this particular trip.

It turns out that he was making the film that his entire career has been building up to - the summation of all of his works, spanning from the dawn of time to the land beyond death.  I'm fascinated to see where he goes from here, because I would be shocked if he were able to go bigger.  But hey. . .  Kubrick followed up 2001 with A Clockwork Orange, so. . .  Is it time for Malick to do his Richard III?  We'll just have to wait and see. (He's already been filming a new movie, starring Ben Affleck, but as per usual no one knows what it's really about.)

A lot of directors use fast-paced editing, and I usually hate it.  I like my films to be fairly "neat" in construction, and a film moving at the speed of a freight train is often jarring to me, and lacking emotional heft.  Some few, great directors pull it off nicely - the aforementioned Kubrick with Clockwork; Scorsese with The Departed - and Malick uses his editing in a similarly unique way.  He shows us snippets of scenes, traces of intimate moments; and besides the plot of this film, it's that element I believe people find the hardest to wrap their heads around.  The point is this. . .  Each moment in the characters lives are like pieces of a puzzle; pieces which, when placed end to end, are revealed as parts of a greater truth.  In Tree, we're watching a man's life flash before his eyes.  But not only his life - also everything that led to his creation, and every consequence of his decisions thereafter.

As I've said before - you don't watch Malick for the narrative.  He's a poet, using the cinema in its purest possible form.  Not only is this my favorite film of the year so far, but its my favorite that I've seen since Where The Wild Things Are.

ECSTATIC ABOUT

CHANGES

Longtime readers (all twelve of you, minus the ones who refuse to think of a year as "long") may be wondering why my output has decreased so significantly in the past month or so.  The simple answer to that question is this:  I was getting bored with it.  Now, on to the more complex answer. . .

You may notice a couple of changes that I've made to the site.  First off, I'm no longer going as Frederick Frog, but as my actual name, Phil Dean.  Seeing as how the vast majority of my regular readership comes via my Facebook page, this animalistic ruse seemed particularly ridiculous.  It was really the remnant of an earlier design for the site, and I've made the necessary correction.

Secondly, my review system - if you'll but take a gander at the right side of the page, I'll save myself the redundancy of explaining it twice.  The short version is that I was getting sick of the perceived elitism and condescension inherent in my previous judgmental wordings.

Thirdly, I've made a huge, HUGE, HUUUGGGEEE, change in my life. . .

Huge.

I've decided to no longer seek out movie news.  In fact, I've decided to intentionally shelter myself from it.

I'm doing this for a number of reasons.  One has to do with the negativity of the online film nerd community.  Much vitriol has been spent towards maintaining the hegemony of the nerd film dynamic - i.e., a film involving wizards or superheroes either "Sux" or "Rox".  I'm interested in a reasoned, open discussion, not a shouting match.

I also just miss the ignorance that I used to have.  While I stay clear of spoiler material, I still absorb information about casting, basic plot synopsis, and "buzz" on scripts, ofttimes several years before the movie in question is to be released.  How fun would it have been to see X-Men: First Class and not know ahead of time that Jennifer Lawrence was in it, thus being pleasantly surprised by her appearance as Mystique?  Would it be possible to make myself isolated enough so that immediately before release, I could say "Holy shit!  They made a Green Lantern movie?!".  Only time will tell.  Either way, I think that the less I know going into a film, the less likely I am to subconsciously pre-judge it before I see it.

And most importantly?  I often go on little "diets", taking away elements of my personality that I consider vices.  That's how I quit smoking.  How I cut down significantly on drinking alcohol.  Movie News is, when I came to think about it, how I waste a great deal of my time.  Time which I could be spending on other pursuits.  I'm getting back into my screenwriting in a big way, and closely following who the frontrunners are to direct Jurassic Park 4 is simply another distraction that prevents me from realizing my actualization.

So where do I go from here?  I'd like to continue doing Blunderbuss, but I don't know what form it will take.  Reviews will continue, but perhaps in a more laid back style.  Ideally, I'd like this site to be more of a conversation piece than a polemic, so let me start by asking this:  What would you like to see?  What would you be interested in me writing about?  What's been working for you so far?

Thanks for reading my erratic posts this past year!  I hope to continue the madness into 2012 (and the end times).

X-MEN: FIRST CLASS

X-MEN: FIRST CLASS
Director - Matthew Vaughn
Stars - Michael Fassbender, James McAvoy, Jennifer Lawrence

This is the fifth film in the X-Men movie franchise, and the second prequel (The previous film in the series, X-Men Origins: Wolverine, was set before the first three but after this.  Stay with me here!).  In case you're unfamiliar with the premise of the series, its this:  Mankind is evolving, and the newly discovered "Mutants", who have abilities such as teleportation and telepathy, find themselves the targets of ordinary humans who hate and fear them.  The X-Men are advocates of peace, and a lasting co-existence between their fellow mutantkind, and mankind.  In First Class, we see the origins of the X-Men, gathered together in the early 1960's.

Do you have to be a fan of the series to enjoy this, or even know what's going on?  Not per-se, but it sure would help.  Most of the best moments in the film are "fan bait" - little cameos or character references that X-Heads are sure to love.  But the film can't quite decide whether its a prequel or a reboot, and thats where I'm a bit stumped.  Its efforts to connect the dots with the other films is noble, but seriously - why bother?  The continuity has been fucked for some time now.  Or did no one else notice that Sabretooth transformed from a mute wrestler into Liev Schrieber?  That the continuity seems to be fluid doesn't bother me, and doesn't appear to bother anyone else.

I will say this - you have to be a hardcore fan of superheroes to enjoy this.  While something like The Dark Knight, soaked to the bone in gritty realism, acts as a good gateway drug for the non-converted, this film is flashy, goofy, and balls-out earnest.  Fair-weather friends of the spandex set need not apply.

Director Matthew Vaughn, having just come off the meta (and brilliant) superhero film Kick-Ass, brings his indie sensibilities and energy to this WAY underfunded affair.  The fx scenes won't blow your mind, but he makes them work well.  Vaughn understands the rhythm of an action scene better than most of the big name directors out there, so what he lacks in budget, he makes up for in actual skill.

The performances here, particularly by lead actors Michael Fassbender, James McAvoy, and Jennifer Lawrence, are very strong.  That's where one of my main complaints lies - I like these characters so much, I wanted to see much more of their interplay, but the movie is rushing through exposition like a freight train.  I know this might initially sound ridiculous, but I would've preferred if they'd stretched this story out over the course of three films.  Its solid, but there are just too many things going on, and too many characters to touch on, for them to really focus on the development of the group.

I've said in the past that the X-Men series is one of the best half-assed franchises of all time, and the tradition continues.  For every exuberant action set-piece, or perfectly delivered line of dialogue, there are moments that rival the unintentional goofiness of the Star Wars Prequels.  However, for the most part, this film sheds quite a bit of the bloat that made the last two films kind of a chore, streamlining the narrative in a satisfying way.  I'm hoping this does well, because I'd like to see the further adventures of the swinging sixties X-Men.

In short - for the average moviegoer, I would rate this as "Good".  I loved it, but acknowledge that it has some serious fucking problems.  But for myself, and fellow X-Men fanatics. . .

FREDERICK OPINES - GREAT

PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN: ON STRANGER TIDES

PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN: ON STRANGER TIDES (2011)
Director:  Rob Marshall
Stars:  Johnny Depp, Geoffrey Rush, Ian McShane, Penelope Cruz

Everyone seems to like the first film (if one is inclined to enjoy that type of story), but opinions on Pirates 2 and 3 vary from lukewarm to abysmal.  Being a fan of the original trilogy in total, I do agree with arguments that the second and third films were a bit overambitious - but maybe its exactly that ambition that I like about them.  They're two of the only big-budget, blockbuster films I can think of where the stories lost me at times - but due to their complexity, not their stupidity.  They're bloated, yes, but also very smartly crafted.

Disney, haven taken criticisms of the trilogy to heart, have heard the cries of fans who like their bread white and their sex missionary.  In other words, On Stranger Tides has been dumbed down a bit, for your viewing pleasure.  Well. . .  for the most part.  Some side-plots are either left unexplained, or very cryptically so, such as the majority of the romance between Philip the Missionary and Syrena the Mermaid.  Does this sink the movie?  No.

What does sink the movie is the flat, uninspiring direction from Rob Marshall (Chicago) - the dude who somehow stole the Director's Guild Award away from Roman Polanski (for The Pianist) and Martin Scorsese (for Gangs Of New York).  I was baffled when I first heard about Marshall being hired to take over the franchise, and I remain equally baffled having just come home from watching it.  "Sure," I once thought to myself, "let's give him a chance.  After all, I wasn't the biggest fan of Gore Verbinski before he directed the first film."  I was wrong to have even the smallest degree of faith in his abilities.  Lines that could have killed, and are delivered perfectly by Mr. Depp, lay flat and lifeless onscreen.  What should be a rousing escape scene just looks like a YouTube video of some idiot swinging from a chandelier.

Verbinski picked some unique looking faces for his band of scallywags, like The Office star Mackenzie Crook, and filmed them in a grotesque, Gilliam-like wide-angle close-ups.  Here, we have a stable of fairly boring looking, indistinguishable pirates shot in flat medium and wide shots.  The usually brilliant Darius Wolski returns as Director Of Photography, yet is given nothing interesting to shoot or frame.

Most damning of all, the characters clearly aren't being played the way they should.  According to the dialogue in the film, I'm to assume that Blackbeard is a terrifying motherfucker - "The pirate that all pirates fear", or some such thing - yet the usually great Ian McShane is just playing him as a huge asshole.  Similarly, Penelope Cruz's character is supposedly feared by her crew, and is set up as being the female counterpart to Depp's Jack Sparrow, but the way she plays it leaves me unconvinced.  Again - those are both fantastic actors, who generally know what they're doing.  I'm leaving the blame for their performances solely on Marshall's doorstep.

This isn't a franchise killer, I don't think - the reviews so far have been pretty bad, but I could see less discerning moviegoers having a decent enough time with this.  I didn't find it to be painful - just boring.  I would go see a future installment, if they can get a better director back at the helm.

FREDERICK OPINES - BAD

CAVE OF FORGOTTEN DREAMS

CAVE OF FORGOTTEN DREAMS (2011)
Director:  Werner Herzog
Starring:  Werner Herzog, Some Scientists, and Cave Paintings

Cave of Forgotten Dreams is the latest documentary from director Werner Herzog, the mad German who brought us such films as Rescue Dawn, Aguirre the Wrath of God, and Encounters at the End of the World.  Here he takes a 3D camera to France's Chauvet Cave - a place which contains the oldest known cave paintings, some dating back as far as 32,000 years ago.

There have been films I've seen where I would describe the 3D effects as "neat", but this is the first film I've seen in which the 3D is almost essential to the viewing experience.  The cave paintings of lions, rhinos, and other, sometimes extinct, animals were drawn on uneven surfaces, utilizing the light and texture in fascinating ways.  This is the type of film that I would usually recommend as a rental -but unless you have a 3D television, you owe it to yourself to catch this in the theater.

If you're unfamiliar with Herzog's previous work, particularly his documentaries, you may find yourself confused as to why he spends so much time interviewing a scientist about his time working in the circus, or why there's a side-trip to a nearby mutant crocodile conservatory.  Trust me - it all has purpose.  Herzog seeks to demystify what we predetermine to be "normal", and in doing so is also seeking out that which makes us fundamentally "human".

Seeing pictures of some of the earliest know works of art, alongside various pieces from other archeological sites, I find myself filled with a sense of true wonder and awe.  I'm forced to recognize that despite my lack of religion, there is something "spiritual" inside of me.  On top of that, I realize that several of my favorite films have a spiritual bent - 2001: A Space Odyssey, clearly, as well as even something as "popcorny" as Raiders Of The Lost Ark.  Quite possibly my two favorite scenes in Raiders are the Well Of Souls sequence, which plays out almost like a religious revelation, and the scene in which villain Belloq challenges Indy to blow up the Ark - Indy cannot, for he is entranced by the potential discoveries that sit inside, waiting to be discovered.

A strong contender for my top of the year list, and a definite must watch if it plays in your area.

FREDERICK OPINES - GREAT

"Fast Five" As Allegory For The Story Of Christ The Redeemer (SPOILERS!)

FAST FIVE (2011)
Director:  Justin Lin
Stars:  Vin Diesel, Paul Walker, Jordana Brewster, Dwayne Johnson

When last we left our heroes, in Fast & Furious (2009), Brian (Walker) and Mia (Brewster) were about to bust Dom (Diesel) out of a prison bus, as he was being transported to serve out his life sentence in Chino.  They succeed - miraculously managing to not kill anyone after they flip the bus over at high speed, as we later learn from a local news broadcast (we're given no guarantees about the survival of the several other thousand people indirectly effected by vehicular crime throughout the film).  Wanting to begin life anew, they head to Rio de Janeiro - their every move watched over by the statue of Christ the Redeemer, as we are reminded of several times throughout the film.

But while they now reside in paradise, they have not yet fully purged themselves of sin - Brian and the newly pregnant Mia have become impoverished, tying them closer to the physical world than the spiritual.  After being double-crossed on a job by local businessman, and criminal entrepreneur, Hernan Reyes (Joaquim de Almeida, "The Latin Jack Ryan"), the protagonists decide to rid the area of his corruptive influence by stealing all of his money - giving themselves a chance to be born anew.

Hernan Reyes is the devil - he corrupts mostly through seduction, not violence.  In a scene in which he talks to potential business partners, Hernan explains why the Portuguese were successful in conquering Brazil, while the Spaniards were not - the Portuguese came with trinkets, placating the natives with objects of desire.  In order to keep receiving these needful things, they need only give over their service. . .  their very souls, in essence.  Reyes continues this model in the 21st century - he rules first through gifts, secondly through violence.

In order to pull off the heist, Dom organizes a crew consisting of characters culled from previous Fast & Furious films - a gathering of Apostles, who by merely believing in Dom are given the chance at a new life.  It seems as if nothing can stand in their way. . .

. . .until the arrival of DSS Special Agent Luke Hobbs (Johnson), a man that Brian knew of in his previous life.  Brian refers to Hobbs as being "Old Testament" - God's Wrath incarnate.  He has arrived in Rio to mete out justice in blood, and doesn't care about the motivations or complexities of the human spirit.  When confronted with the irregularity of Dom having supposedly killed a trio of DEA agents in cold blood, despite his relatively non-murderous relationship with the law in the past (the agents were in fact murdered by one of Hernan's men), Hobbs merely responds to the questioning police officer with a dismissive line about "names land on my desk, I take them down".  In other words, "ours is not to question why", in regards to a higher power.

The police officer asking the questions about Dom's possible motivations is Elena Neves, a local cop whose police officer husband was killed by one of Hernan's men while on duty.  Hernan killed him because he could not possess his soul, as he does most of the other police in Rio, and Elena finds herself living day to day, lost in a world of darkness.  Enlisted by Hobbs as a local guide/interpreter, she manages to temporarily stop Dom during one of his getaways, before he manages to elude her.  He does, however, accidently leave his crucifix necklace behind - the very symbol of the soul he's attempting to free from corruption.  Elena retrieves the necklace, keeping it for herself.  She finds herself becoming more and more enamored with it, and of the possibility of a life free from corruption.

Eventually, Hobbs finds his man.  It's Old Testament versus New, as Dom and Hobbs fistfight it out for supremacy.  In the end, Dom has the advantage, but despite his murderous rage, he decides not to kill - that is a life that he has left behind him.  In triumph, Hobbs the righteous warrior carts his prize away.

But victory is not to last.  Hobbs gets ambushed by Hernan's men, who end up killing his entire crew, with the exception of Elena.  Elena frees Dom and the rest of the prisoners, who in turn save Hobbs life. As a token of gratitude, and as a means to take an eye for an eye from Hernan, Hobbs then agrees to help Dom and team with their heist.

The heist goes according to plan - except that no one knew what the plan was exactly, except for Dom himself.  Brian and Dom drag a gigantic, hitched safe down the streets of Rio with two muscle cars, until they're halfway across a bridge - then realizing that they're never going to be able to outrun Hernan and the cops on such a straight and narrow path.  Dom disconnects Brian from the safe, telling him to go on - Brian's child will be born free of original sin.  Dom turns his car around, cranks up the nitro, and pulls the safe behind him.  On a path as narrow as the eye of a needle, Dom swings the safe back and forth, knocking cars off of the road - money becoming the very means of destruction of these men of industry.  In the end, Satan, as embodied by Hernan, is destroyed by Dom's hurtling vehicle - the angel of seduction and sedation destroyed by the propulsive instrument of humanity.

Hobbs arrives on the scene, to exact what vengeance he can from Hernan's wreckage.  In an uncharacteristic act of mercy, in response to Dom's own, Hobbs gives Dom and team twenty-four hours of running time, before beginning his pursuit.  Dom, and Brian, who had never truly left his side, depart. Dom had sacrificed himself to save them all, and had been reborn again, as had all of his people.

Hobbs examines the safe - empty.  Just as the world of the flesh has been severed, so too has the reliance on earthly possessions.  The money has been transmuted from lifeless bits of tree into the dreams, hopes and passions of those who now possess it.

FREDERICK OPINES - GOOD

The Ludicrous Nature of Brand Loyalty

Terminator 5 is being shopped around, with Fast Five director Justin Lin and the Governator himself, Arnold Schwarzenegger, attached.  Depending on the cost, this is a smart buy for any studio - the Terminator is a recognizable brand, and, much more importantly, so is Arnold.  People would come out to see this for curiosity's sake, even if it were the sequel to Jingle All The Way.

From the perspective of a discerning film fan, I don't really understand the audience excitement about this.  Ok - there's a new Terminator film being made.  But what does "terminator" mean to you, and why is there an instant, positive reaction?

Here's a list of my favorite elements of the Terminator franchise:

1.  James Cameron's groundbreaking action scenes, utilizing mostly practical effects, stunts and destruction.
2.  As a strong representative of the Cyberpunk wave in the 80's, and helping to usher in the era of CGI in the 90's (in an extremely tasteful manner, in comparison to many films since).
3.  As a time capsule, and a bit of nostalgia from my youth.
4.  A (somewhat) original premise, that effectively blended the thriller/action genre with robots, laser guns, and time travel paradoxes.
5.  Schwarzenegger in his prime.

Now, if this sequel were to be made (which seems fairly certain), which of those elements will transfer over?  Not Cameron - he's busy securing college money for his Great-Great-Great-Great-Grandkids by directing Avatar 2 and 3.  So we've got Lin - a solid, if fairly uninspiring, action director.  Is this part of a movement, or original in any way?  We have no plot synopsis as of yet, so its difficult to say - but the lack of creativity evidenced in the casting Arnold would lead me to answer "no" and "no" to those questions.  I'm guessing this will be the same-old, same-old.  And speaking of "old" - I think its fairly safe to say that Arnold is no longer in his prime.

So, in essence, since the new installment of the franchise will be deprived of everything that most people like about it in the first place, it seems fair to say that this might as well be a brand new movie about a cyborg, from a so-so director, starring a has-been action star.

It's the way in which we have to view things as either good or bad, black or white, which contributes to this blind fandom.  It's alright to love the TV show Firefly - but recognize that the show does have its flaws, no matter how hard you'd like to ignore them.  In the same manner, you can love The Terminator and T2 without blindly supporting any work that bears the same moniker.

I'm not saying that a fifth Terminator film will necessarily be bad - but I'm not assuming that it'll be good, either.

Frederick's Film Theories: Intention vs Expectation

One fairly common criticism that I saw of Quentin Tarantino's most recent film, Inglourious Basterds, is how it is so willfully inaccurate to history - the Basterds significantly altering the events of WWII in a very grandiose fashion.  I don't want this to smack of elitism, but this criticism came almost solely from blog commenters, and not from "legitimate" critics - ones who would be familiar with Tarantino's predilection towards cinema history, and not so much world history.  These are historical figures repurposed as archetypal characters, for the purposes of entertainment and art - not so much for education.  The discordance that the critical historians felt during their viewing experience was brought about entirely from their misperceptions of what the film was trying to be and say.

I don't believe in the existence of a truly objective measurement of artistic merit (see sidebar), but I think that from both a logical and fair point of view, you have to take a piece on its own terms.

I recently got into an online discussion about what summer films we're all looking forward to.  I mentioned the Vin Diesel action film Fast Five as a possible viewing experience, to which someone responded with something vaguely along the lines of "It looks like a piece of shit".  But by what criteria are we measuring it?  For a not-too-subtly homoerotic, car fetishizing, women objectifying, gratuitously explosive thrill ride, it looks fairly well put together.  Sometimes I enjoy stately period pieces, such as Barry Lyndon, and sometimes I want to see two muscle-bound dudes grunting at each other before knocking one another senseless.  I'm guessing that the person who is preemptively calling Fast Five "shit", or a piece thereof, simply isn't a fan of this type of film.

Even the films that I personally hate the most, such as The Boondock Saints, I have to recognize work for SOME audiences.  Troy Duffy made the movie that he wanted to make, and quite effectively - it just happens to be a movie that I don't particularly like.

One criticism levied at Inglourious Basterds, and this one I consider somewhat more legitimate, is that it wasn't the film that Tarantino said he was setting out to make.  For years, he'd been developing Basterds as his "men on a mission" film, in the tradition of such movies as The Dirty Dozen or Where Eagles Dare - and it simply ended up being very much NOT that kind of film.  There are men on a mission in it, yes, but the movie's focus is spread between a Nazi movie star, a British spy, and a Jewish theater owner.

I would agree that he failed at what he had originally set out to do, but it is again short-sighted to ignore the finished product for what it is.  The creative process is not always a straight shot from A to B, and we should recognize that anything we see before the final product is nothing more than a draft.

Sorry for the rambling, but I guess my point is this: When you watch a film (or, read a book, listen to a song, etc), try to figure out what the artist is saying, instead of simply judging the work based on what you think they should have said.  When a director claims that his film is full of exciting Kung Fu action, and the action turns out to be fairly anemic, then you can rightly decree his film a failure in that regard.  If, instead, he's making a western, it would be odd for you to bitch about its distinct lack of chopsocky.

Movie Review: A Clockwork Orange

A CLOCKWORK ORANGE (1971)
Director:  Stanley Kubrick
Stars:  Malcolm McDowell, Patrick Magee, Warren Clarke, Godfrey Quigley, Anthony Sharp

In the near future (or, perhaps, an alternate past/present), young Alex (McDowell) and his gang of "Droogs" raise hell in London; everything from property destruction, to rape. . .  even murder.  But the entrenched government has a solution to this criminality:  "The Ludovico Technique", designed to wipe away any ability for a degenerate man to sate his wanton, aberrant instincts.  At the mere thought of criminal behavior, he becomes sick.  But does exorcising the urge for evil truly make a "moral" man?  Is a man "good", if his only motivation to act so is due to fear of reprisal?

Despite A Clockwork Orange's enduring popularity, I doubt that the majority of its fans have spent a great deal of time dwelling on the subtleties and implications of the film.  Kubrick designed the film to be exuberant;  he wanted you to feel good, and then feel bad about feeling good, while watching Alex's wicked deeds.  Except the message has been lost - the majority of viewers don't feel bad.  Alex as the unleashed rapist Id has, in fact, been quite unironically embraced as the symbol of the atypical rape-cultural college male, recently unleashed (or, foisted) upon the world from his parent's nest.

Kubrick was quite disturbed by the misinterpretation of his film, and, in quite unusual fashion for a filmmaker, pulled his own movie from British theaters, following a series of crimes supposedly attributed to Clockwork's influence.

I see Clockwork as both the end of one trilogy, and the beginning of another.  The former I would describe as Kubrick's "Sex and the Modern Man" trilogy: Dr Strangelove, 2001 A Space Odyssey, and, finally, A Clockwork Orange.  In Strangelove, the titular character is representative of mankind in the post-nuclear age;  neither wholly man nor machine.  He speaks excitedly about sex, factory-like in nature, in the post-apocalyptic bomb shelters that mankind will need to survive (a "10 to 1" woman to man ratio - women being "selected for their physical characteristics, which will have to be of a highly stimulating nature").  But in the end, the only thing that can "get him up"(quite literally) is the absolute destruction of the world.  In 2001, we're treated to scene after scene of metal phallus entering metal orifice (often to the waltz "The Blue Danube"), until this lifeless imitation of procreative behavior spawns its eventual evolutionary offshoot - HAL, a being who sees itself as superior to all others, but is as soulless as it is intelligent.  And lastly, in Clockwork, with the thin veneer of civility stripped away, sex is merely seen as another extension, or application, of violence.

The other trilogy of which I speak was begun by Clockwork, and followed by Fight Club and The Dark Knight.  All three films involve a central character split into two (or, in Dark Knight's case, two characters who are halves of a whole), that provide the audience a catharsis through a dark mirror, or destructive Id - but whose themes are also mostly ignored, or misinterpreted.  The message of The Dark Knight is not "watch the world burn", nor is Fight Club's that we should be "stalking elk through the damp canyon forests around the ruins of Rockefeller Center", nor A Clockwork Orange's "Viddy well, little brother.  Viddy well".  Quite the opposite, in fact.  Dark Knight has an extremely simplistic, not very subtle climax that seeks to display how "mankind is inherently good" or some shit, when the boats decide not to blow each other up in the end (Not sure I concur with Nolan's faith in the human race, but to each their own).  Fight Club is, if you're paying attention, about how staring into the abyss causes it to stare back at you - by design, the cultish nature of the oppressed begins to unconsciously parallel the tribal nature of their oppressors.  Or, to look at Fight Club another way, it's analogous to the Buddhist parable of enlightenment, "If you meet the Buddha on the road, strike him down" - meaning that, in addition to freeing yourself from the shackles of convention, you must also free yourself of the one who helped you on your path.

One comes away from Clockwork with many themes, and many messages in mind.  It certainly doesn't help that there are almost no sympathetic characters (the closest thing to a "moral center" of the film is the church Chaplain - who is also heavily implied to be a pedophile).  But what I take away from it is this:  Man is not inherently good (I guess this is the Anti-Dark Knight, then).  Man (as in "mankind" - I'm not excluding you, ladies) is, at his core, a beast, and society and religion are both aspects of the Ludovico technique;  people are kept in line through a fear of punishment, not through a genuine love of their fellow man.  There are good men in the world, but they are few and far between.

A dark message to swallow - all the more reason to wrap it in a sugary topping.  But what most people end up doing with the film is sucking the sweetness off, and spitting the vitamins on the ground.

FREDERICK OPINES:

A CLOCKWORK ORANGE - MASTERPIECE
FIGHT CLUB - GREAT
THE DARK KNIGHT - GREAT

Dust

Doing some organizing and dusting after rifling through our DVD collection.  We don't need all this shit, so obviously it's time to sell some of it.  I love Fritz Lang's "M", but do I watch it often enough to warrant having it on my shelf? (Almost) everything must go!!!

I've been doing a good job of not watching crap this year, but haven't been too active in seeking out the classics.  This week, that was remedied.  I watched Wernor Herzog's "Aguirre, the Wrath of God" as research for the script I'm writing (How's that for cryptic?).  Fascinating, with a brilliant performance by lead actor Klaus Kinski (who, according to legend, attempted to walk off the set mid-production, before the director threatened to kill him if he did).  It feels random though, and unfocused; like a question mark.  Attempted to watch Carl Theodore Dryer's "The Passion of Joan of Arc"; no thanks.  A film that's been occasional ranked as "better than Citizen Kane" by film fans in dark alleys, in hushed tones, I found it to be an overwrought bore.  Didn't finish it, so it doesn't get a proper rating.  The close-ups lived up to their reputation as being beautifully rendered, but the overuse of close-ups felt like an assault on the senses.  I guess that's the point, and it's just not really my bag.

If Aguirre is a question mark, and Passion is a exclamation point, I suppose I've figured out the tone that I prefer - the period.  Artists - have a thought, and then express it.  Don't ask me what I think about it, or tell me how to feel about it - just say it.

I did see a French film that I really liked, directed by someone who's works I've never experienced.  "The Earrings of Madame De. . . ", from director Max Ophuls, was mind blowing.  Stanley Kubrick would often reference Ophuls as a favorite of his, and I can now see why.  On the surface, a simple, melodramatic love triangle story, but with extremely strong characters (all superbly acted) and assured direction.  I'll be checking out some more Ophuls soon enough.

The Dark Knight Rises is going to be shooting in Pittsburgh, as if to justify my eventual move.  They'll be gone long before I arrive, but as the film industry in Michigan begins to dry up, it's nice to see some big projects being filmed in my future home.  On top of the fact that Romero's Dead movies were filmed there.  Oh, better make sure those are in my "to keep" pile!

News from the other side of Pennsylvania - M. Night Shyamalan's making another film.  The Last Airbender was, oddly enough, quite profitable, so obviously there are some gluttons for punishment out there that would be excited about this.  This one's a sci-fi thriller starring Will Smith and son.  Hmmm. . .

Quentin Tarantino recently screened his long awaited combined version of Kill Bill, in all its unrated g(l)ory.  Blu Ray, por favor?

FREDERICK OPINES:

AGUIRRE, THE WRATH OF GOD - GOOD
THE EARRINGS OF MADAME DE. . . - MASTERPIECE

Wedding List: Taste Of Cherry

TASTE OF CHERRY (1997)
Director:  Abbas Kiarostami
Stars:  Homayoun Ershadi, Abdolrahman Bagheri, Afshin Khorshid Bakhtiari

After introducing Anna to Kathryn Bigelow's war drama The Hurt Locker (she dug it, and I continue to), she suggested that it might play well as an intro to one of the films that I'm required to watch before our wedding day - the Palme d'Or winning film Taste Of Cherry.

After the ever-increasing, bomb-defusing tension of Hurt Locker, it was certainly a nice cool-down.  Cherry, which takes place primarily in a car, deals with an Iranian man driving around Tehran in search of one, fairly-simple thing; he needs someone to bury him after he's killed himself.  As one might expect, this isn't an easy task - suicide is frowned upon in the States, but it's something that is simply not talked about in Iran.

It's a bit of a reverse Christmas Carol:  He picks up three different travelers, each representing either past, present or future, to some degree - but unlike Ebenezer Scrooge, the protagonist embraces the thought of an untimely death.  You don't end up learning much about the central character of the story, and he's a bit of a blank slate personality-wise - which is precisely the point.  He's a lost person, like all of us; merely a collection of fragmented memories.

If you find the synopsis interesting at all, I would say it's worth a watch.  It's most certainly not for all tastes, but I found it interesting enough.  The photography and direction are quite compelling, in a minimalist way.  Kiarostami is a renowned director worldwide, but this is my first exposure to him (Anna is the big Iranian film fan).

My only complaint is with the ending, which breaks the fourth wall in a way that I found jarring (which was probably intentional).  Apparently that's a staple of Kiarostami's works, to blend fact with fiction, so I might look back on this film more positively once I've absorbed more of his repertoire.

FREDERICK OPINES:  GOOD

Double Feature: Stalker & From Paris With Love

STALKER

At first glance, the two films I picked for my latest double feature have very little in common:  STALKER (1979), an artsy sci-fi allegory from the mind of revered Russian director Andrei Tarkovsky;  and FROM PARIS WITH LOVE (2010), a semi-mindless, politically backwards shoot-'em-up from French director Pierre Morel (Taken, District 13).  But, with a little digging, one can find little parallels.  Loud, brash, and destructive tourists, with little interest in, or understanding of, the place that they're visiting.  A constant threat of physical (and, quite possibly, spiritual) death.  A guide who distrusts his traveling companion(s).

Stalker, based on the novel "Roadside Picnic", is about a man whose profession is the title;  He is a guide, paid to bring adventurous travelers safely through a mysterious land known only as "The Zone".  No one knows exactly where it came from - some say an asteroid created it, others say that it simply appeared - but everyone agrees that the normal laws of physics don't apply there.  And somewhere in the center of The Zone lies The Room;  a place where a man's innermost wish will be granted.  Along for the journey on this trip are two characters known only as The Writer and The Professor.

Despite the vaguely sci-fi trappings, set aside all expectations of lazergun fights and giant robots;  the story revolves mostly around these three characters and their philosophical musings.  The Stalker, the Writer and the Professor each represent, respectively, the influence of Faith, Art, and Science in shaping our worldview.  The Zone remains mysterious;  most of its power is symbolized by the film switching to color, in contrast to the "real world"'s brown monocrome.  It's a nice, Oz-like touch.

It seems to touch upon many themes, but what I took out of the film was an analysis of how one can make a system out of chaos.  Or, if the universe itself is inherently chaotic, is any system a form of self-delusion?  The narrative as medium of philosophical musing reminded me quite a bit of the films of Ingmar Bergman, of whom Tarkovsky was a huge fan.  Takovsky was one of the few directors asking the big questions, and much like Bergman, not being afraid to admit to not having the answers.

FROM PARIS WITH LOVE

I followed this up with From Paris With Love, a film that was recommended to me as a "so bad, it's great" type pic.  To some degree, I understand that sentiment, though I might change "bad" to "stupid".  It's ridiculous in every imaginable way, but it does accomplish what it set out to do - entertain the masses through cathartic violence perpetrated by, as Tracy Jordan would refer to them, "metal penises".

Director Morel does nothing to dispel his reputation as a bigot, going out of his way to mock every downtrodden minority possible through the mouthpiece of Uber-Angry American Charlie Wax (John Travolta), a secret agent in Paris on a mission to do. . .  something.  Things are blown up, and people are kicked.  Jonathan Rhys Meyers provides backup, and a half-hearted stab at pathos, as Wax's straightman partner.  In the spirit of fairness, Morel makes sure to add some mockery of his home country into his Un-Politically Correct tirades.

Say what you will about From Paris (Ok!  The script makes no sense, the characters are paper thin, and the acting is universally atrocious), but it's got it where it counts, kid.  Travolta's performance is pitch-perfect for the proceedings, and no scenery is left unconsumed.  As in Taken, the violence is well designed to shock, numb, and then shock again, and never gets boring.  Not only do the bads die, but they die, um, hard.  And the wooden performances, silly dialogue, and complete lack of taste (in addition to a truly "classic" ending) actually blend quite well with several moments of adept direction.  I, for one, would see a sequel in the theater, if they brought the same team back.

FREDERICK OPINES:

STALKER - GREAT

FROM PARIS WITH LOVE - GOOD

As I prepare to hunker down

Alright;  I've got my script concept, some preliminary research done, and a basic outline:  Bring it on, Script Frenzy.  I'll have to write an average of three-and-a-third pages per day to reach my goal by the end of April.  No sweat.

Anna seems mostly recovered from her ordeal, and has thrown herself into preparation for the upcoming wedding.  We've been slipping this past week, both in frugality and diet (several boxes of Cheez-Its lay dessicated in our recycling box), so it's time to renew our dedication.

Agatha Christie's elderly sleuth Miss Marple is making a return to the big screen for the first time in a few decades, and the lead actress for the role is. . .  Jennifer Garner?!?  Will I be forced to start an Agebending website?  Maybe it's like a prequel, or Marple Begins.  The role was last played by Angela Lansbury in The Mirror Crack'd (who later went on to, in essence, rip-off the role for several years, on the TV show Murder She Wrote).

Bryan Cranston cast in the Total Recall remake, and Geoffrey Rush is voicing Tomar Re in the Green Lantern film.  Ain't gonna save 'em, guys.