Top Video Games (With a Heavy Emphasis on Story) #25

So, for the next 25 days, we will be unleashing a new list: the top 25 video games (with a heavy emphasis on story). I hope you come to approach this list as I do, with a great sense of nostalgia for a simpler time, when homework wasn’t very important and the biggest thing I had to worry about was whether I should wear sunscreen or not.

25. Syberia I & II (2002, 2004) - PC

I know it looks like I am cheating by combing the two games like this, but I swear they are really just one game. Syberia I ends with a cliffhanger and the sequel, Syberia II, picks up where the first one left off and concludes the story arc. It is, therefore, fair to judge them as a single game, and a gorgeous one at that.

Syberia is the creation of visionary artistic director Benoit Sokal, who began his career as a Belgian comic artist, and eventually founded his own video game company where he produces adventure games based on his own books and stories. In Syberia, Kate Walker is sent to a remote French village on behalf of a law firm, to oversee the requisition of a bankrupt toy factory. There is something odd about this town, and all the oddness seems to emanate from the toy factory. When we first enter town, a robot or automaton, the likes of which I have never seen, rolls over the crest of a hill. It is followed by a funeral procession composed entirely of these soulless mourners. It’s a strange and beautiful opening image, and it makes a powerful statement that becomes a recurring theme in Kate’s journey.

Kate travels through Eastern and Central Europe, as she continues to desert all the elements of her stressful, meaningless, big-city life-style, including a needy fiancé and an impatient employer. She eventually meets an eccentric inventor who takes her further and further into Russia, mostly via locomotive, and she does find the mythical land of Syberia, as the game’s title would suggest.

The story here is what makes this game really excellent. It is also the gorgeous art design and animation. The automatons really come to life and they provide the story with much comic relief. The environments are all breathtakingly rendered, from the quaint European villages, to the trans-Syberian railway, to the icy wildernesses that Kate must brave to find her elusive destination.

This is an adventure game, so there are puzzles. Most are easy: find the right combination of items to unlock this or that. But I don’t play these games for the puzzles. The story and the visuals will enchant you, and the journey itself is thematically rewarding in every way.

Movie Review: State of Play (2009)

State of Play (2009)

These modern times have a lot of people feeling down this spring, and Hollywood has tried to remedy that with an always heavy dose of ho-hum crumbs from the simple table. If a good stiff prairie oyster is needed for us to wake up and smell the coffee, it comes in the form of State of Play (2009). Directed by Kevin Macdonald (who helmed the excellent The Last King of Scotland (2006)) and based on the BBC miniseries, the film is a smart, exciting, aesthetic, and extremely thought provoking slap in the face for a time where we should probably be paying more attention to the world around us.

While most quasi-political thriller/dramas as of late fall into either a military or police category, State of Play engages both but grounds it all with journalism. It’s the kind of film that focuses on something that is always out of focus in this age of media sensationalism and corporatization. Russell Crowe, fresh and still fat from his Americanized Screwtape character in Body of Lies (2008), plays Cal McAffrey, an old school journalist with the Washtington Globe who starts following a seemingly inconsequential double shooting incident. Soon after, a young and beautiful woman dies under questionable circumstances in the subway. The woman is a research aid and secret lover of Cal’s friend Stephen Collins (Played by a restrained Ben Affleck), a poster boy congressman in the midst of leading an inquiry into PointCorp, a private military level security force (hello Blackwater). In the mist of it all is the young aspiring blog journalist Della Frye (the beautiful and angelic Rachael McAdams), who is quick to leak the story and even quicker to piss off Cal. Hungry yet? Under the migraine induced orders from their boss Cameron Lynne (an icy and iron clad Helen Mirren), Cal and Della team up and start connecting the dots.

And so begins their journey into a labyrinth of lies, liars, lying liars, sheep, wolves, sheep in wolves clothing, wolves in sheep clothing, and dare I say blue elephants and red donkeys, all the while adding their own tunnels to the mix in pursuit of a truth that is somewhere down there. All in all it almost should be called Body of Lies; or Body of Lies 2: More Lies; or 2 Body 2 Lies; or Body of Lies: Washington Spin; I mean it already has a fat Russell Crowe. Oh well, it’s just another day in D.C.! Crowe and McAdams portray their characters with effortless conviction. Cal is the old analog guy hanging onto his job using his guerrilla tactics, and Della is the young digital girl trying to make it in journalism. Together they are a strong but not perfect team, as everyone has their own agenda to get the job done.

On the surface, State of Play is about finding the truth in a world that treats truth like nuclear waste. Underneath it all, however, the film is about survivalism. Whether it’s for career, story, integrity, image, ideals, country, or even just life, every character is fighting to survive in the face of an uncertain future (a feeling echoed with such sincerity in a cameo by an excellent Jason Bateman). Nothing rings truer for the journalists, as the Globe itself is fighting to survive in its analog state when no one reads newspapers anymore. Having been present in both Denver and Seattle when they both recently lost their papers, I could feel the absolute devastation among those who still cared. It’s a weight known all too well to Cal and Cameron, with their weathered emotions betraying their attempts to mask the fear of becoming both obsolete and/or bankrupt. Of course, the victim in all of this is the truth itself, because if spin can generate a great story…


Those who were smart enough to view the excellent Gone Baby Gone (2007) know the true conundrum between what’s right and what’s best; multiply that by a bucket of chicken and you get the final conflict in State of Play. The film gets fairly convoluted close to the end, but the point is not the management of truth in the interim, it’s the final print that counts, and that is surprisingly crystal clear.

In the cine-gumbo of spring, there are a few nice chunks of meat (or shrimp), but most of it is just broth and, therefore, not very filling; it really seems like a free-for-all before the blockbuster buffet of summer. Food analogies aside, we are all trying to find decent films to get lost in right now while we wait for the fast approaching summer of soma. Food analogies onside now, there is a tasty morsel to be found with State of Play, but it’s one that will not be so forgiving the morning after! But at least it seems that Russell Crowe is not going hungry!

3.5/5

S. McSmoke-Smoke

Book Review: The Monster of Florence (2008)

Monster of Florence (2008)

By Douglas Preston and Mario Spezi

I wonder if you have heard about Amanda Knox, the American exchange student who, along with her Italian boyfriend of two weeks, is on trial in Italy for the murder of British student Meredith Kercher. She will likely go to jail for life, but there is no real evidence against her, and another man, who is unconnected to Knox, has already been sentenced for Kercher’s murder. I’m not trying to argue her innocence, I’m just responding to the case history as a rational, free-thinking person. At the heart of the case against her is a prosecutor who believes Knox was involved in an unsubstantiated, satanic sex ritual that accidentally killed Kercher; this is a prosecutor who relies heavily on the conspiracy theories of a radical blogger, and takes this blogger’s theories as evidence. This blogger has a reputation for spinning Italian murders into the work of deprived satanic cults. Did I mention that this prosecutor is, himself, charged with abuse of office, and is waiting for an elusive trial date? Yet he has been allowed to prosecute in this case against Ms Knox and, surprisingly, he will probably win his case due to a corrupt legal system and maligned public opinion of Knox.

Why do I bring this up in a book review? The prosecutor in question, a man named Giuliano Mignini, is the same prosecutor who arrested crime-novelist Douglas Preston under suspicion of murder. But how did this hugely successful writer and acclaimed journalist, who fulfilled his life-long dream by moving his family to the Tuscan country-side, become a suspect in his own non-fiction murder mystery? Well, you’ll have to read this book to find out.

What is truly alarming about Amanda’s case is that Magnini is allowed to get away with what he does after the mess he already made during the Monster investigation, which he leads for many years. The entire investigation is chronicled methodically, and entertainingly, in Douglas Preston’s and Mario Spezi’s The Monster of Florence. Spezi is the Italian journalist who has been following the case from the beginning, and Preston is the American crime-novelist who was unable to restrain his professional fascination with the case upon discovering that his Tuscan villa neighbored the scene of one of the most famous and grisly double murders in Italy’s history.
Over the course of three decades, 14 murders were committed in Florence, and no one has ever been convicted. There have been many theories and many suspects. Preston and Spezi argue that some of these theories are more plausible than others. There is even a point in the book when the pair feel fairly certain that they have indentified the killer, but the lesson of the story is that people, given the right circumstances, can convince themselves of anything. By the time Preston shares his final thoughts with us, he is no longer so sure what he believes. In a case this long, this complex, this warped, and this nightmarish, it’s easy to see why an investigator might come out the other end a little scatterbrained.

The Monster of Florence is a non-fiction book, but it reads like a great murder mystery. The first section of the book details the case history, as researched and documented by Mario Spezi. The second section brings us up to date, with Doug Preston’s arrival in the country and a renaissance of the investigation. This is where things really get weird. As the two writers plan their book about Italy’s most infamous serial killer, the investigation suddenly looks into them: Spezi is arrested and jailed for over a month, and Preston is banned from ever returning to the country. Even after reading it, I’m not entirely sure how this happened. I don’t think the writers even know. The book does, however, give us an intimate look into a legal system that, on the outside, looks very much like ours, but is nonetheless permeated by intimidating, culture-specific variances that may make you reconsider that future vacation to Italy.

It’s a phenomenal read. It takes me a very long time to finish most books, as I am a slow reader, but I finished The Monster of Florence in 3 days. It’s a real-life mystery you won’t be able to put down.

For more information about Knox’s case, this report is very complete.
http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/localnews/2008120524_amandaknox17m0.html

Professor P

Movie Review: Midnight Meat Train (2008)

Midnight Meat Train (2008)

Midnight Meat Train is a difficult film to assess. There is so much about it that I liked, it was exciting, violent, and stylish, but the film was almost entirely undone by a mindless and unsubstantiated decision, needlessly made by the film’s two protagonists just before the final act.

Before I go any further, I should remedy the impression given by the film’s title that this is an exploitative gorefest. It’s actually based on a short story by the always-dependable Clive Barker, although the popular horror/fantasy writer has a long history of maligned film adaptations. At least we know the source material is credible. The film also suffered from some production and distribution woes. The first director left the project, a new one was brought in, and when it was finally finished, Lionsgate opted to cut its advertising and only give it a very limited release after everyone involved, including Barker, was told Midnight Meat Train would get a wide release. The theory is that Lionsgate head, Joe Drake, screwed the film so that he could focus all his attention on another Lionsgate release, The Strangers (2008): a film on which Drake had a producing credit. So was it politics, or was Midnight Meat Train an inferior product? Well I have not seen The Strangers, a personal choice I made because it looked like a blatant rip-off of the excellent French film, Ils (2006), but I can say with some confidence that Midnight Meat Train is a lot more fun, and certainly a lot more original.

The acting is really solid. Vinnie Jones is the villain here, and he does not speak a single line, but he has that look like “I’m going to squash you like a bug.” It’s menacing and effective. The rest of the cast is strong as well, particularly Bradley Cooper who I have never heard of before. But he makes a charming leading man, and handles some of the more challenging scenes, such as when his character does stupid things, with a finesse that makes those decisions seem more likely.

My favorite thing about the movie is the music. It’s really different, but it works perfectly for the film. It actually reminded me of Vangelis’ score for Blade Runner (1982), a mix of synthesized beats and simple orchestrations.

Given that this is based on a Clive Barker story, the film does come with the requisite demons-from-another-reality angle. I’ve read some Clive Barker stories which I thought were damaged by this addition, but I have also read some where I believe Barker was on to something really brilliant. I am happy to report that Midnight Meat Train falls into the latter category; in fact I would even say that the story here is made stronger by said addition. The twists come very late in the movie, but they tie together the story in a satisfying way you may not see coming. The final fight sequences are also spectacularly choreographed and stylish, totally worth the wait if you can get over the inane decision that the protagonists make to put themselves there.
The final verdict: it’s no Hellraiser (1987) or Lord of Illusions (1995), but this is easily the best Clive Barker adaptation since. The choice is yours whether that counts for anything.

Professor P

Some of the Worst

So my top 30 favorite films list is now complete. You know what that means. It means we've been in business a month now, and it's time for me to find something else to write about. In the meantime, here's a handful of films that did not make the list.

Oceans 12 (2004)

Was it just me or did this film not actually feature a heist? Those of you who answered yes: shut the fuck up. The so-called ‘heist’ conveyed a level of creativity akin to that of a cat when it decides to piss on your carpet to mark its territory. Honestly, I felt like I was paying for a bunch of pretentious actors to have a really nice vacation. Well you won’t get me next time guys. I’ve got a heist for you, George Clooney. Why don’t you sneak up your ass and try to steal your dignity back?

Catwoman (2004)

Inspired by Madonna, the director of this piece of shit is known only as Pitof. Pitof actually made one really cool French film called Vidocq (2001), which starred (you guessed it) Gerard Depardieu. Catwoman was supposed to be his big break into Hollywood. OOPS! This film features a scene in which a painfully computer-generated cat breathes into Halle Barry’s mouth, reviving her. Really, how hard could it have possibly been to train a real cat to open its mouth over Halle Barry? I would have accepted Verne Troyer in a cat suit. You could have added the CG breath afterwards. Or here’s an idea: try using another idea that’s not so completely inane as having a housecat breath life into Halle Barry. The breakaway glass was superb, however.

Men in Black 2 (2002)

With the world and characters established in the first Men in Black, it seemed almost impossible to imagine a proceeding film that could not at least be entertaining. You had a cast of very funny humans and aliens, and you had a delightfully ignorant world population. Well someone managed to screw all that up. Clocking in at 80 minutes in length, it is obvious that the writers threw this piece of shit together the night before. Unfunny, uninspired, plot-less, cash-in.

Bad Boys 2 (2003)

Rules on how to make a shitty action film:

1) When you lack plot, try adding another uninspired car chase. Or maybe 5.
2) Since you have already cast 2 naturally funny black guys, there’s no need to actually write any humour into the script.
3) Since neither lead character seems to have any noticeably ‘bad’ qualities (in fact they are both kind of nice) I guess the filmmakers figured the movie itself would have to suck.
4) The villain in this film was so pathetic…I actually don’t even remember who he was or what his deal was. All I can remember is Will Smith and Martin Lawrence crashing cars and being incredibly unfunny.
5) The only thing that could have made this movie interesting was if Martin Lawrence decided to have a sex-change operation while Will Smith was forced to deal with his closeted attraction for his gender-confused partner.

Date Movie (2006)

Because spoofing comedies seemed like such a good idea at a time. I know a guy who liked Bad Boys 2…he walked out of the theatre on this one, 10 minutes into it.

Blade: Trinity (2004)

Because nothing is funnier than watching Ryan Reynolds being a pussy and making fart jokes. Interesting fact: Blade is a comic character famous for slicing up vampires with his badass sword. In Blade: Trinity this famed sword shows up for a mere 3 minutes in the last fight scene of the film. Congratulations filmmakers: you proved once again that, in the film business, it’s who you know, not how (un)talented you are.

Professor P

Movie Review: Fast & Furious (2009)

Fast & Furious (2009)

It’s rare that one of the highest of high concept films should be one of the year’s most ironic and reflexive movies; of course, this is not to the credit of the film or filmmaker (if you can call them that), but more to the obvious current issues in relation to a “car” movie. The motor excess of Justin Lin’s Fast & Furious (2009) feels a few years out of date, what with a world where no one is talking about the economy and American automakers are not up a creek. But maybe this is the kind of escapism we all need, sort of a real life fantasy? So yeah I was really bored and alone and felt like watching something absolutely crazy (but Crank: High Voltage (2009) had already been reviewed); plus, with a free movie ticket, how could I go wrong? And you know what, I didn’t.

As the forth installment of an OK at best franchise, Fast & Furious aims to get things back on track (semi-intended pun) as well as providing closure to certain elements. It also has the shortest title of the franchise, providing the basic core of all meat and no fat, as if to suggest that this is the definitive F&F movie. And you know what; it just might be (provided they don’t pull a better fifth one, which they certainly could). Why this movie succeeds in the franchise is unarguably thanks to the return of Vin Diesel as Dominic Toretto. He was certainly an asset in the original The Fast and the Furious (2001), but his time away from the franchise has only made him more vital. In addition, Diesel’s roles since then have never fully suited him like Dom (Riddick is debatable). Unlike Paul Walker, who has been able to prove himself in other films like the very cool Running Scared (2006), Diesel is truly meant for this role, and is the definitive character in the franchise. It is also nice to have Michelle Rodriguez back as Letty and Walker’s Brian O'Conner, the three of them certainly keep everything a float. Jordana Brewster is back as well as Mia Toretto, but her character doesn’t carry as much weight as the other three.

With the original cast in toe, the story arc is finally able to proceed, with no mention of awful 2 Fast 2 Furious (2003) and The Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift (2006) save for a one-line *wink wink* about the latter. The movie begins with an exiled Dom and Letty stealing fuel from moving tanker trucks in the Dominican Republic, you can imagine there is a pretty sweet action sequence attached to that. Because the plot is front loaded, I can reveal no more, but I can say that the rest of the movie involves Dom and O’Conner teaming up yet again to take down the same drug lord. Director Justin Lin, who also helmed Tokyo Drift, certainly knows how to craft an automotive action scene, and he does so on the streets of downtown L.A., in the deserts of Mexico, and of course in the mountains of the Dominican Republic. Lin even manages to pull off an enjoyably hilarious end-of-movie underground car race that is strangely reminiscent of Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom (1984), crazy but very fun. All in all the film is far from perfect, but nothing really gets to be too much in this, not even the love stories, which is a blessing.

While I will always be a Gone in Sixty Seconds (2000) guy – sort of a different type of movie, but whatever –, it’s always impressive to see a franchise resurrect itself after a couple crappy sequels. All in all, it’s still F&F, but it’s pretty much the best one out there, and everyone could use a little auto smash fest once in a while!

2.5/5

S. McSmoke-Smoke

Top Movies #30

Pan's Labyrinth (2006)

“But captain, to obey - just like that - for obedience's sake... without questioning... That's something only people like you do.” - Doctor

Guillermo del Toro’s American films never seem to work for me. I always get the feeling that he’s just making them to finance his next Spanish masterpiece. Chronos (1993) showed promise of what would come, and The Devil’s Backbone (2001) nearly beat Pan’s Labyrinth for the last title on my list. But Pan’s Labyrinth gets the spot, because this film is the culmination of all of del Toro’s favourite themes and styles, and he presents them here with the resolute mastery of a filmmaker who understands how to seamlessly translate his dreams into film.

The term magical realism is often used to describe Pan’s Labyrinth, and I suppose that works, as the film effortlessly blends fantastical elements with the stark horror that is fascism. It’s an awkward mix on paper. Del Toro would be hard-pressed to find a more serious topic to juxtapose against his dream-world. It works though, because del Toro uses the fantasy to criticize the real, and vice-versa. The fantasy is used sparingly, told only through the eyes of Ofelia: the most innocent and pure of young girls. The strength of del Toro’s criticism is heightened by pitting the absolute pure against the absolute evil.

There is very little I can say about this film that hasn’t already been said. Every element of this film equals the next for its high margin of quality. Thematically, Pan’s Labyrinth is a powerhouse. But the movie also comes with the personal stamp of a dreamer who, after years of sketching fauns and demons in his notebook, has finally seen his uncompromising vision come to life.

Top Movies #29

Mon Oncle Antoine (1971)

The title of this remarkable French-Canadian film tells us two important things: the first is that Antoine is going to be a focal character, and the second tells us something about perspective. All the happenings in the general store of a rural Quebecois mining town, are observed and scrutinized by young Benoit: the adopted 14-year old boy of the film’s titular character. When Benoit is watching the adults go about their business, setting up a nativity scene and preparing the store for Christmas, he is silent, watching. Often he is shown observing an event or confrontation through a plane of glass, signifying a metaphorical dissonance between him and the adult world. He sees his aunt flirt with the younger store clerk, and then cozy up with her husband, Antoine, only a few minutes later. Does he judge them? Or is he learning from them?

Curiously, the movie does not open with these main characters. We are first introduced to Jos Poulin, a disgruntled asbestos miner who is fed up with taking orders from his English-speaking boss. He quits his job and leaves his family for the winter months to work from a lumber lodge where he can be more independent. He soon becomes bored with this work and returns home early, but during his absence, his eldest son becomes sick with fever. I have the sense that this man characterizes an important parable or symbol related to rural Quebecois life and attitude of the early 1940s, although my knowledge of the history of the region is borderline-nonexistent. I do know that the events depicted in the film are a precursor to the late 1940s Asbestos Strike, a formative event that lead to the Quiet Revolution in Quebec. Poulin’s non-committal attitude, contempt for the English-speakers, and hard agrarian lifestyle, may represent the social conditions of the time period that were the spark of political change.

The bravado sequence of the film involves Benoit and Antoine’s journey to pick up the body of a 15-year old boy from an outlying property, who has succumbed to fever during the harsh winter months. Benoit is at first excited to be allowed to accompany his uncle on this very adult journey. By the end of the trip, Benoit’s innocence has been lost and the boy has come-of-age. They arrive at the house and Antoine, who has been drowning himself in alcohol, obliviously sits down to a meal offered by the dead boy’s mother. The weight of the situation is dawning on Benoit who declines food. The following moments are uncomfortably, but beautifully edited together, as Benoit glances up at the dead boy’s mother, then turns to the daughter, and the two younger boys who seem oblivious to the tragedy. Finally, Benoit’s gaze settles upon the door of a back room, cracked open only a couple inches, and beyond it lies the impenetrable darkness of death. This is a heavy, emotional scene, and it presents a significant change in Benoit. On the way back home, Antoine, who Benoit looks up to and admires as a responsible adult, drinks himself to unconsciousness. Then the coffin falls off the back of the carriage. In a drunken haze, Antoine confesses all his fears and resentments to young Benoit, who is now faced with some very adult decisions.

Mon Oncle Antoine has been voted the most important Canadian film of all time for three decades straight. Its effect is subtle, but the film gingerly draws you into to its hard, simple world, and gives you an exclusive glimpse into a day in the life of its characters. This is a movie that touches upon something sincerely profound about the human spirit, yet I find myself in a struggle to articulate this feeling. Consider the film as an authentic glance into another way of life, at another place in time, and we watch it all with reflective, silent curiosity, just as Benoit watches passively through glass window panes.

Album Review: Minibar - Road Movies (2001)

Minibar - Road Movies (2001)

What starts out as a somber confession soon turns into a bouncy romp on “Holiday From Myself,” the opening track of Minibar’s 2001 debut Road Movies. While the song itself is strong, it references the album’s MO all too soon; indeed, the album is in essence a holiday, one taken by a British band to the American southwest. The resulting music sounds like a cross between Travis and The Wallflowers, which is something that is actually original and looks good on paper. It all certainly sounds nice: the confident (yet very British) song craft filtered through an alt-country/folk-rock lens makes for a very pleasant listening experience; however, it all almost feels a bit too calculated. The themes and lyrical imagery of the album are too reliant on an idealized Americana, which is obviously faux in their case. Their inclusion of “Choked Up” (written by alt-country hero Ryan Adams) is excellent, but again it suggests that the band is stretching to connect with a fundamentally different musical lineage, and it doesn’t help that T-Bone Burnett produced Road Movies either. Where this counts the most is on the ballads. Nothing sounds bad, but “Lost In The Details” and “Sheer Volume Of Traffic” just don’t have enough momentum, leaving the songs a bit bland and sappy and making the listener go “wait a minute, aren’t they from England?” By the time the somewhat relevant closer “So Long Soho” arrives, it’s almost too late. However, if one can look beyond the authenticity issue, Road Movies is an enjoyable listen, especially on the more up-beat songs such as the rocking “Retrospect” and “Visible From Space,” and when Minibar does acknowledge its transplant status and infatuation with America, as on the winning title track, they truly shine. As a debut, Road Movies is a good start that displays plenty of promise; the trick is just finding sincerity in their imagery. Fortunately, the band would soon learn to reconcile their ambitions with their conditions by their next release, fully developing their original sound.

3/5

“Will you be my restoration? / Will you be my decline and fall? / Will you be my own road movie? / All the roads at home are too small”

S. McSmoke-Smoke

Top Movies #28

Let the Right One In (2008)

“Are you really my age.” – Oskar
“Yes. But I’ve been this age for a very long time.” - Eli

Wow, this film is cool. And I’m not just talking about the very real Swedish snow that decorates almost every frame, a meteorological phenomenon that is always so painfully forged in American cinema. The irony is that this is another vampire film. But please understand, this is not like anything you have ever seen before.

Oskar has a new best friend. Which should be a relief considering that the 12-year old boy is obviously very lonely: ignored by both parents and bullied by older boys at school. He shows the potential for violence, but lacks the conviction to carry it out. Luckily, his new best friend, Eli, is a vampire. Her familiar, a pathetic, weakened old man, is struggling to meet her needs which require him to bring her the blood of young men. It would seem that she is in the market for a new assistant. But her intentions toward Oskar are never made entirely clear. There are moments when we can genuinely believe she has feelings for Oskar, and other moments where she is clearly just using him. Nevertheless, she is always there when Oskar needs her.

There are brief moments of shocking violence in this picture, but they are spaced between long segments of character development, spiced with just the right amount of brooding atmosphere. So when the violence erupts it is that much more poignant because we have invested so carefully in the setting and characters. And we are never shown everything. What we do see is often obscured or filmed from an unusual perspective. Maybe it was for budgetary reasons that the filmmakers were forced to shoot these moments creatively, but the film is inarguably stronger for it.

On a related note, the first DVD pressing for this film came with very bland English subtitles. Apparently, the distributers wanted to avoid paying royalties to the prestigious translator who provided the subtitles for the theatrical release of the film, so they hired a cheaper colleague. The DVD translation lacks the subtle wit, sarcasm, and contextual undertones that arose with the original translation. Thankfully, fan outcry has convinced the DVD distributer to furnish all future pressings with the theatrical subtitles. Look for the DVD that advertises this moniker on the back cover.

Movie Review: The Burrowers (2008)

The Burrowers (2008)

"You killed the buffalo, so the burrowers found other food."

I’ll be damned. A Western-set, direct-to-DVD, creature-feature that’s actually good. Excuse me while I look out my window for flying pigs. The Burrowers is what Tremors 4: The Legend Begins should have been: scary, atmospheric, and minus the bouncing baby Graboids.

I was not expecting anything memorable when I played The Burrowers late one night out of boredom and restlessness. It kicked my ass. I mean, I’m watching the first scene and thinking: this is actually pretty scary, this is an effective sequence. Of course there are more horror films than I can count that begin with an excellent opener or setup, but fall to pieces once the main characters are introduced with their cardboard acting and lame script. Astonishingly, that never happened. The suspense and mystery was unleashed carefully and discretely, not giving away too much too soon, and the characters were impressively interesting. Now the writing won’t win any awards, but it is no worse than most of the garbage out in theaters right now. Everything else, the acting, direction, setting, and special effects, is strong enough to carry the film far above its limitations. So why, you may ask, did this great genre film not hit theaters? Well, there are a few simple answers. Relatively unknown actors, unknown director, low-budget, and, oh, did I mention this was a horror/western. Yeah, I gather there’s not much of a market for these babies.

Me, I love Westerns. I love Horror films. So the genre combination by itself makes the movie more appealing to me. The film stars William Mapother (Ethan from “Lost”), Clancy Brown (the preacher from “Carnivàle”), and Doug Hutchison (Horace from “Lost”). I’ve always enjoyed William Mapother’s Ethan in "Lost". I think he is really creepy and underused. What I couldn’t predict, was that by putting a mustache on him, you could make him look like a real cowboy. He plays Will Parcher, an experienced Indian tracker who leads a recue party to look for a bunch of missing women. Mapother is really very charismatic, and makes for a surprisingly compelling and confident leading man. Clancy Brown, who is never not great, gets another role where he’s not playing a jail guard: always a plus. He plays John Clay, the wise, older figure, whose advice everybody should have started listening to earlier than they did. And finally, Doug Hutchison plays Henry Victor, the leader of a small army regiment that briefly crosses paths with the rescue party. Hutchison’s role would normally be played statically - the one-note, archetypal, power-hungry villain - but Hutchison has so much fun with it that the role manages to stand out as something special. Hutchison stole the show in last year’s Punisher: Warzone. He has a talent for acting with his whole face, and his eyes can convey great oceans of madness. He clearly had a lot of fun with Henry Victor, despite the brevity of his appearance in the film.

The director, J. T. Petty, has obviously watched both Jaws and Alien. He understands that his creature is far more effective, especially with his limited budget, when remaining unseen for the majority of the film. Much like the aforementioned films, The Burrowers takes its time to build its simple story, gorgeous setting, and remarkable characters. You get the obligatory hints that something is very, very wrong. There are many truly frightening scenes during the first half, and they are made more frightening because you truly don’t know what the characters are dealing with. You get bizarre glimpses of things you can’t quite make out or explain. The mystery is so effectively kept that you will find yourself engaged in the movie predicated upon curiosity alone.

The premise may sound a lot like Tremors, but the movies share little in common. The plot itself comes with some great twists that you won’t see coming. At its heart, The Burrowers is a real character piece. The leads are all well-developed and their journeys feel genuine. You do care about these people, which is a serious compliment given the film’s generic residency. To top it all off is a shocking and gutsy ending that gives the rest of the film a lot more weight and sentiment. It could have ended with your typical horror-movie last-stand against the offensive creature, but instead the filmmakers chose to make a point. For that, I give them a great deal of respect for challenging me in a movie that didn’t have to have such substance.

It wasn’t all perfect. As I alluded to earlier, the dialogue is sometimes a little flat, but the actors still manage to have fun with it. The film is also fairly rough in its treatment of Native Americans. I understand that there is always a fine line between Western films being historically accurate and excessively offensive. It wasn’t so much the way that the characters of The Burrowers treated the Indians that bothered me (although this is a serious contention), so much as it was the way that the Indians were depicted. Their depiction was derogatory, complete with phony high-pitched yells and a conveniently profound understanding of the natural world. In the end, it wasn’t a big deal, and I didn’t feel as dirty as I did after watching Crank High Voltage.

I recommend this film as one of the finest its sub-genre has to offer; it’s certainly the best creature movie I have seen in years. The final verdict: finally a Western-themed horror film that delivers the goods even without the help of Michael Gross.

Professor P

Top Movies #27

The Leopard (1963)

“We were the leopards, the lions, those who take our place will be jackals and sheep, and the whole lot of us - leopards, lions, jackals and sheep - will continue to think ourselves the salt of the earth.” - Prince Don Fabrizio Salina

Visconti’s The Leopard tells the sad story of revolution during Italy’s Risorgimento period. Not only the revolution of Garibaldi, but also the personal revolution that surrounds the aristocratic Prince Don Fabrizio Salina, who must watch his nephew, Tancredi Falconeri, marry a young woman, Angelica Sedara (played by the always-gorgeous Claudia Cardinale), from the lower class. This is a necessary act, as Fabrizio states, “Things must change so that they can stay the same.” This is the ultimate motto of the film. For the aristocratic class to maintain some semblance of power and influence in Italy in the wake of the conquering middle class, they must relinquish many traditions of old in place of new ways of being.

Tancredi represents the encroaching new generation. He has no sense of honour, dignity, or loyalty: qualities which are most prominently represented by the aristocratic class in the film. In almost every scene he is wearing a different uniform, declaring allegiance to a different and often opposing faction, or has spontaneously changed his opinion or political beliefs to support the mass sentiments of the period. He represents that man who will forever side with whoever has the most power and influence. Reputation and principle have little value for him. This is Visconti’s way of declaring his own resentment over the loss of aristocratic values, after all, Visconti himself comes from a very affluent Italian family that descended from aristocratic lineage.

The absolute perfection of craftsmanship permeates every single frame of this film, but no scene captures this point more fully or pristinely than the ballroom dance sequence in the film’s final act. It’s been called one of the most moving mediations on personal mortality in the history of cinema, and its set-pieces have rarely been duplicated. What is brilliant about this scene is that all of the films plot lines, character arcs, and themes are neatly resolved, but almost none of this is accomplished through dialogue. It is done with dance and body language, a longing look from the Prince here, and a moment of silent contemplation there. The detail, both physical and thematic, is exquisite: you feel like you are watching something very special.

Prince Don Fabrizio Salina is one of Burt Lancaster’s best roles; Lancaster himself cites it as the best performance of his career. This is quite a claim considering all of his lines are dubbed in Italian, but Lancaster does all the acting with his graying, statuesque-face and deep sad eyes. What is Fabrizio thinking as he looks at an old portrait in his study? He is sad and alone: his country is changing, and, aesthetically, he must adapt, but in his heart nothing has changed.

Disney Alert!

Most of the time, Prof P and I partake from the same brand, if you catch my whiff… Sometimes, however, we differ. Disney is quite possibly one of those times. This is not to say a rift will develop within the democratic fabric of Lies and Gasoline, I just feel I must give fair warning to all before dropping some D on this most holy of places. Prof P doesn’t really trust Disney, but he has good reason for that. Minus the Pixar division, I feel that the modern Disney is saturated with crap in the form of Hannah Montana, J Bros, and all the other similar wholesome refuse. However, my intention is not to talk about the negatives, but more the positives, which means that I will mostly look to the past. All in all, I probably have a bit more faith in Disney than my associate, but my will is certainly being tested as of late. Now that you have been warned, expect some Disney features of decades past to grace the boards fairly soon, and you might be surprised when you find out what all the commotion is about. Stay tuned doubters, Disney is the bomb more than you realize.


S. McSmoke-Smoke

Top Movies #26

An American Werewolf in London (1981)

“A naked American man stole my balloons.” – Little Boy

This is the ultimate werewolf movie. This is the ultimate horror-comedy. John Landis captures the balance between bone-chilling scares and morbid humour perfectly in a movie that is both ambitious and unconventional.

An American Werewolf in London received a lot of attention when it was first released for its incredible werewolf transformation special effect. In fact, it was in large part because of this movie that The Academy of Motion Pictures began to recognize the contributions of makeup and special effect artists in the annual awards. The effects still look great. Sure, you can see where the trick is in a couple of shots, but I would still take the scene, as it is, over a computer-generated version. You get the sense that a lot of ingenuity and a lot of time went into each excruciating limb and jaw elongation, and this sense creates a very satisfying final product. David Naughton’s fine performance also helps, as he screams and writhes around in visible pain.

There is so much that is great about this film. Griffin Dunne, who plays David’s friend, Jack, is hysterical as the deceased psychopomp who tries to convince David that he must kill himself to prevent from turning into a monster during the next full moon. Jack always turns up at the most awkward places, like in a bathroom right after David has sex, or in a porno theatre, and his state of decay grossly exacerbates throughout the movie. He speaks to David with the same sarcasm and reprehension he displayed while he was alive, yet now loose pieces of rotted flesh jiggle around his torn throat. Somehow we still giggle.

And the car crash at the end is fabulous: it’s just an onslaught of vehicular cacophony and destruction, as the beast roams Piccadilly Circus. I have heard people complain about the film’s sudden and unexpected ending. I love it. Concluding right after this intense multi-car pile-up, my adrenaline is already at the maximum; my movie-going experience is satisfied. And come on, what kind of happy ending were you expecting anyway?

What I really like is how the music really builds the mood of particular scenes, or, in a few instances, it can even act dissonantly to great effect. We hear three different versions of “Blue Moon” throughout An American Werewolf in London, and each time it plays, the song carries new emotion. It plays during the opening scene, which depicts two friends backpacking across the Scottish Moors. It’s the classic Bobby Vinton version: slow, comforting, and familiar. These friends are clearly having a great time, not a care in the world. The second time we hear “Blue Moon” is during the werewolf transformation scene. This time it’s the Sam Cooke version: looser, more free-styled, and with a faster-tempo. This moment is clearly done as a comedic counter to the horror of David’s brutal transformation, but there are subtle differences in this version of the song that make it an ideal fit for this violent moment. The final version of the song plays over the closing credits. I love how this more upbeat, lively, doo-wop version comes out of nowhere to shock you from your stunned disbelief over the film’s abrupt finale. Somehow, this last incarnation of the song makes it easier to forgive Landis’ hasty ending.

Live Concert Review: Better Than Ezra - March 21, 2009

Who: Better Than Ezra

What: A Concert

Where: Silverton Casino - Las Vegas, Nevada, U.S.A.

When: March 21, 2009

Like most things having to do with Vegas, it began with a conquest and ended in hazy tears, hazy tears of joy that is (save for the quasi-cougars that got away). Many moons ago, Professor Puff and Smokey McSmoke-Smoke decided to take over the world, but when that didn’t work we went to plan B. Plan B, also conceived many moons ago, was to see Better Than Ezra live. Code named “Before Someone Dies”, the plan was simple enough; however, due to problems in Montreal (besides the French), BTE would most likely never play in Canada again. Therefore, it was up to us to seek them out if they ever played remotely close to us in the States, which never really happened. It wouldn’t be such a big deal for most of the younger bands that we are into, but for an aging 90s band barely treading the waters of the music scene, it felt like we were running out of time.

The answer to our prayers came in a two disc unrated extended directors cut! At the end of 2008, news from BTE’s website sung the sweet tidings of a new album. Obviously we were pooping our pants, but then we got word of an extra-Louisiana gig in none other than Sin City! And so the adventure begins!

With Professor Puff in La La Land, not working in gay porn, and Smokey McSmoke-Smoke roaming the Southlands in search of himself and an elf named Winky, there was no reason why our two heroes couldn’t make the blessed event. Not only that, but only a few moons ago the two discussed a road trip to Vegas, what with Prof P’s certain digs and such. It was like killing two Sharpclaws with one earthquake (too soon?). Clearly the boys would need to change their pants after devising a plan this sweet.

One could probably imagine that for any band, the word “Casino” might smell a bit; however, for the struggling 90s acts, it’s their bread and butter. The scene of the crime ended up being the Silverton Casino, which was off the stripe but quite attractive in a faux Rockies kind of way. Actually, the real venue was a large tent behind the main casino building, but it had a bar… After fueling up on Whiskey Sours and BTE’s new single, “Absolutely Still,” Prof P and McS walked up to the stage and were quickly the young studly hit among the slightly older senoritas. The story with them gets hazy after that.

After listening to the opening act, Harvey the Rabbit, BTE burst onto the stage with their biggest hit “Good,” a ballsy move to be sure. For a nanosecond, there was concern that the band had blown its load too soon, but those fears were soon dismissed. BTE was fired up, and they were laying on the love. They played song after song with more momentum each time, reaffirming their classic hits like “Extra Ordinary,” “Roselia,” “A Lifetime,” “King Of New Orleans,” and “At The Stars,” while even making album tracks from the fairly lame Before The Robots (2005) sound good. By the time they got to their last ditch effort “Juicy,” it felt like everyone was ready to make babies. The pre-chorus closer was a smoove take on the consistent pants destroyer “Desperately Wanting”… and how we were… The encore consisted of “The Saints Are Coming” (in honor of their recovering New Orleans), and the always iron-rich “In The Blood.” When the lights came back on, the boys were drenched in love sweat from a much sexified audience. While our two smashing gents had attended many concerts before, they had never been to something quite as sexy as this.


In the euphoria of the aftermath, the boys went after a set list, missing out on unknown pleasures with the many ladies of the crowd, but Prof P and McS meant business. Upon reviewing the set list, an unfortunate fact was discovered. The excellent “Burned” was supposed to ignite the encore, a song very dear to our duo. Besides this 11th hour change, the only other downside was the omission of the moody “On More Murder,” yet another gem for the boys. But these thorns aside, the concert was a bed of roses that everyone made love in. The band was excellent live; even with a new drummer (the original one just sold his soul to Nashville). Most of all, the band was having as much fun as the audience, and that always makes for the best concerts.

So what did Professor Puff and Smokey McSmoke-Smoke learn from all this? Well, I’m afraid that stayed in Vegas.

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S. McSmoke-Smoke

Ezra Alert!

In preparation for the upcoming release of Better Than Ezra's new album Paper Empire, Prof P and I plan on making some noise about the band, old and new. Look out for a retrospective entry to our blazing blog as well as a review of their recent Vegas concert attended by none other than JamesTaylor. Also, once we get our hands on the new album, you can be sure that a nice fresh review will follow.

Keep it juicy...

S. McSmoke-Smoke

Top Movies #25

Lifeboat (1944)

“Dying together's even more personal than living together.” – Connie Porter

This lesser-known Hitchcock masterpiece is one of his best, and it’s my personal favourite. Based on a story written by the great John Steinbeck, Lifeboat absolutely nails the small-cast, single-location premise. It places a group of misfit survivors together in a boat to fight it out under endlessly perilous conditions: this is human nature at its most pure and revelatory.

There is a genuine reason why you may not be familiar with Lifeboat. The film was initially released to wide critical acclaim, but this attention quickly turned sour when anti-German sentiment surfaced due to the film’s portrayal of a German character. Reviews turned negative out of protest against this so-called wartime propaganda film, which, today, seems ludicrous because the German character in the film is unmistakeably villainous. The effect of a couple of bad critics snowballed into a whole swarm of bad critics, and, consequently, 20th Century Fox decided to give the film a limited release, reducing its advertising, and ensuring a poor box office performance in 1944.

What instantly surprised me about this film is how dark and complicated its characters and situations were for such an old film. Lifeboat still carries a lot of raw power and insight for a film made during the era of old-style Hollywood. The German U-boat captain, for example, that the survivors pull from the sea is far from two-dimensional. He is resourceful and cunning; at one time he is invaluable to the crew, and at one time he is detrimental. There is a scene when the German is first brought on board: the crew ask him if he is the captain of the U-Boat that destroyed their ship. The fact that he denies this post makes him somehow less responsible. The crew maintains that if he was the captain, they would throw him back in the water. This punishment-by-responsibility routine is fascinating to me: someone who did not grow up during the Great War. Why does it matter what rank he is? How can anyone there judge his level of responsibility? The crew does the humane thing by saving the man, but the movie later raises the question as to whether this was the right decision. Hitchcock revels in this ambiguity between right and wrong, and it is this dissertation that makes for such a compelling viewing experience.

The acting does suffer from that old Hollywood, stage-style; it doesn’t always feel genuine or natural. As the film progresses, however, the characters become further embroiled in the horrors of being lost at sea. They become soaked in water, and even blood. Consider how this affects the actors. They seem to loosen up as the situation becomes progressively dire. I believe that by putting his actors through the proverbial ringer, Hitchcock creates the desired effect of more natural performances from his actors. Lifeboat actually creates a unique bridge between old Hollywood and new Hollywood. When the characters first meet on the lifeboat, they perform much like stage actors typical of Hollywood acting up to that point. The dialogue is performed melodramatically, with unnaturally emphases. By the time they realize they are at the mercy of a devious German U-Boat captain, by the time they are all morbidly dehydrated, and by the time they are forced to perform an amputation right there in the lifeboat, these characters have literally had the reality scared into them. Welcome to new Hollywood.

This is Hitchcock’s most underappreciated film. It is also his best.

Review: Crank High Voltage (2009)

Crank High Voltage (2009)

He was dead...But he got better.

Crank High Voltage opens with a 32-bit, videogame-styled recreation of the final events of the previous movie, because God help us if we get lost trying to follow this franchise's richly detailed and cerebral plot-line. I like to think that the filmmakers are telling us, "Yes we know it's ridiculous, but think of it like a video game. Chev Chelios still has one more credit left." I've played a lot of videogames. Most have adhered more closely to the limitations of reality than Chev Chelios does in Crank High Voltage. There is a glorious audacity, however, in a movie that begins with a man surviving a multi-thousand-foot drop from a helicopter, only to have open heart surgery to replace his "strawberry tart" with an artificial one. This is most crucial to this sequel's plot: the filmmakers have found a way to recycle the same gimmick from the first movie, so that the sequel can focus solely on one-upping its predecessor. But if you are unwilling to accept that a man has survived a fall from a helicopter without breaking a single bone, than perhaps this movie is not for you. Lucky for you, the film gets this little fact out of the way very early on so that you can still take advantage of most theater chains' ten-minute money-back policy.

If you are, like me, okay with this, then you will have a great time with this film. To say that the action never stops is like saying planet Earth never stops rotating; if it did we would all die, or, in the movie's case, we would get really bored. Thankfully this never happens. Chev must keep himself constantly juiced in order to power his dying artificial heart. It's like if the Speed bus was a man and that man was Jason Statham. So Chev tours Los Angeles trying to find his real heart, which Doc Miles (Dwight Yoakam who reprises his scene-stealing role from the first movie) thinks he may be able to put back in. Along the way, Chev charges himself back up in all kinds of offensive ways, most of which would kill you or me instantly. I can't question the plausibility though, because this man has already survived a fall from a helicopter. It's all wonderfully entertaining, and I imagine many patrons with more delicate sensibilities than I would be grossly offended at some of Chelios' unpredictable shenanigans.

Jason Statham is great in this role, a role that somehow manages to be more respectable than his Transporter character. I don't know why. I am willing to buy Jason Statham falling from a helicopter, but I am not willing to buy Jason Statham jumping a car onto a moving train. I'm not sure where the line is for me. Statham is the only modern action star who can hold a candle to last generation's stock of Bruce Willises and Sylvester Stallones. He is athletic and totally convincing during almost any action scene, and he actually looks like a man. This is the problem with a lot of today's action-star wannabes (I'm talking about you LaBoeuf).

Bai Ling is a new addition to the franchise, and she is as much of a scene-stealer as Dwight Yoakam. She milks an Engrish accent so severely that all her lines must be subtitled, but still delivers some of the movie's best lines. 

There are lots of little nods to the first Crank. Some will be apparent and hilarious, such as Amy Smart playing the message that Chelios left on her phone as he fell to his death from a helicopter, while others require more exposition to jog your memory. I recommend the film as pure entertainment, although I honestly cannot say whether I was more entertained by the film, or by the group of 10-year-olds who snuck into this R-rated picture, and were clearly very uncomfortable with some of the horrors they were being subjected to much, much too soon.

Professor P

Album Review: The Verve Pipe - The Verve Pipe (1999)

The Verve Pipe - The Verve Pipe (1999)

While 1999’s The Verve Pipe (or “Froggy” for its front cover) may not be a Pinkerton (1996) (both for technicalities and overall quality), it sure feels like one. One could view it as the epitome of a sophomore slump: trashed on its delivery while being obfuscated by the murk of its own darker production, which posed such a stark departure from the unassailable shimmer of the previous album’s reception. Of course, with Weezer's Pinkerton there was a happy ending and one of the most significant critical exonerations in modern music. Unfortunately, the same spectacle does not await The Verve Pipe for the simple reason that this is not the band’s best album; however, it’s not a bad album either. On the contrary, it’s quite a good album, and no doubt the most interesting entry in the band’s excruciatingly underrated catalog. Few bands have had such a love-hate relationship with timing. Their definitive 1997 hit “The Freshmen” couldn’t have arrived at a more ideal time, during the golden age of alt rock’s commercial reign. Conversely, their last/latest album, 2001’s Underneath was released on September 11. In this case, The Verve Pipe was released into the dynamic waters of 1999, where alt rock’s demise gave way to the ascendance of pop and nu-metal. Throughout the album there is tension from both the alt rock of their origins, and the present hard rock tendencies. This tension naturally makes the album quite inconsistent, resulting in a collection of songs that displays the band hitting startling lows, but also achieving remarkable highs. “Supergig” ignites the album with a rush of fuzz previously absent in the band’s recordings; it’s the most arresting and arguably the best opening to any Verve Pipe album. Unfortunately, “She Loves Everybody” does not sustain the momentum, but the two song experience of “Hero” and “Television” renews the sense of optimism. Both songs functioned as singles: “Hero” undeniably being one of the band’s best and most unique songs, while “Television” is the closest the band has come to techno. From there the album is submerged under its own production. The Beatlesque melodies that succeeded through cleaner production on earlier albums are smothered by the post-grunge gloom and extremis fuzz of Michael Beinhorn’s production, which is a problem for these mid-album tracks. Not even the burst of “Headlines” can overcome the lull. Interestingly enough, it’s the low key quirkiness of self referential “The F Word” that resurrects the album, continuing through a set of excellent cuts to “La La,” the album’s bombastic closer. What’s clear is that on the second half of the album the band finally seems to emerge from the gloom, and once again transcend the production, essentially being themselves. The excellent rocker “Generation” rings like a descendant of the solid Villains (1996) album, while the heartbreaking and surprisingly raw “Half A Mind” points toward lead singer/songwriter Brian Vander Ark’s recent solo successes. However, it’s drummer/songwriter Donny Brown’s “She Has Faces” and its nocturne embracing production and arrangements that serves as the real epic, clear justification of his future dominance on Underneath, the band’s true masterpiece. If anything, The Verve Pipe is a transition album, one that found the band pursuing the current commercial genre while still holding on to their roots. It’s ironic then that in trying to be commercial, the band produced something quite ambitious and experimental, something not commercial at all, and with it came some excellent songs. In light of the current state of mainstream music in the 2000s, listeners willing to consume this album in its entirety might find that The Verve Pipe deserves a bit of that Pinkerton respect, or even that the music makes more sense now then it did in 1999. In the end, there exists a small spectacle around The Verve Pipe, and in all its pros and cons it’s quite fitting that it should be this band’s eponymous release; after all, it’s no Secret Semadi.

3.5/5

"Another song, it was so wrong, the radio refused to play it / I'm not afraid to serenade, the f word saved and sucked the life from me / And I got to get arrested, to keep you interested"

S. McSmoke-Smoke

Album Review: Gin Blossoms - Major Lodge Victory (2006)

Gin Blossoms - Major Lodge Victory (2006)

It’s pretty hard to believe that it took the Gin Blossoms a decade to release their third album, 2006’s Major Lodge Victory. It’s even harder to believe then that the album sounds like no time has passed at all, which is actually a good thing. To be fair, the band was not together for the majority of that decade, and with good reason. The Gin Blossoms have always been kind of an alt rock enigma: they released only two real albums in the 90s (the folk-rock classic New Miserable Experience (1992) and the relative sophomore slump Congratulations… I’m Sorry (1996)), yet were able to rule the radio for that decade and retain a solid presence beyond; no band in the genre this side of Matchbox Twenty has been able to achieve that. However, amidst this success, the band suffered, burning too brightly too soon. Between the stress, internal conflict, and substance abuse, founding member and songwriter Doug Hopkins was fired from the band and subsequently killed himself. The band could simply not continue with the weight of its demons. All things considered, the time off was actually good timing. They missed the rise and fall of the teeny bopper fad, as well as nu-metal’s heyday (unfortunately, Nickelback is still around). Suffice to say, Major Lodge Victory is not a ten year album in the making, this is no Chinese Democracy. It’s simply the work of a band resuming their craft around where they left off, but this time they sound refreshed and revitalized, and they rock a little harder. This isn’t to say that the Gin Blossoms found punk; they just sound more like the Wallflowers instead of Toad The Wet Sprocket this time around. And it’s certainly evident from the excellent opening punch of “Learning The Hard Way” and “Come On Hard.” The harder sound actually suites the band more, and it feels like this was the plan, as reflected in “Long Time Gone.” Other highlights include the thundering “Curious Thing” and the speed-folk-rock rush of “Fool For The Taking.” The ballads, however, aren’t quite as engaging, but the fuller sound works better than before (they have never been a ballads band), and the closer “California Sun” might just be their best one. While it would be difficult to trump the 90s powerhouse of New Miserable Experience, the band more than makes up for Congratulations… I’m Sorry with a new and more optimistic chapter. The Gin Blossoms are back, and hopefully they’ll stick around this time.

3.5/5

"I've been such a fool / Didn't want to lose / It's been a long time coming"

S. McSmoke-Smoke

Top Movies #24

Near Dark (1987)

“Let's put it this way: I fought for the South. We lost.” – Jesse

As a rule, modern films about vampires are bad. They lack the creepy gothic overtones and a genuine atmosphere of dread that made the early incarnations of nosferatu so menacing. Near Dark is, therefore, an unexpected exception. Co-written and directed by the acclaimed, and often controversial, Kathryn Bigelow; it is a testament to the male dominated forum of filmmaking that one of Hollywood’s most significant female directors can produce a richly layered, challenging film about a clan of social outcasts that masquerades as an action/horror flick. Or perhaps it does so only to compete with its testosterone-fuelled contemporaries. Either way, Bigelow plays with established and iconic American settings and themes to enliven her work.

The film is unabashedly a Western, first and foremost. The focus is on the American Wild Bunch who flee from the law and impose a very real threat to the innocent civilian. The film is set in the American mid-west and is ripe with familiar imagery: spurs, dusters, revolvers, and endless hardened landscapes. At the end of it all, good is once again triumphant over evil, for the world is no longer a safe place for the vampiric outcasts.

It is interesting to mention, however, the word “vampire” is not once used throughout the course of the film. Although the outcasts are clearly defined as such: they drink blood, are immortal, and fry when exposed to the sun. But it is the practical realism (if such a remark can be made under the circumstance) of this clan of misfits dealing with their exorcism from society - while simultaneously feeding upon it - that creates the film’s most interesting discourse. The villains, which they clearly must be as they feed on human blood, at one point torment and murder the terrified patrons of an off-highway bar, only to devolve into a critical state of panic themselves when they must duct-tape the windows of their car, as they struggle to hide from the rising sun, while out-running an angered police force.

And then there’s the main character, Caleb, who gets a taste of the vampire life when he is bitten and kidnapped by the clan. He enjoys the rush, but refuses to partake in the bloodletting of innocents and so is exercised from the clan, all the while being pursued by his determined father and younger sister.

At its heart, Near Dark is a story about the strength of family. When Caleb is away from his, he is susceptible, and is taken in by the vampire family, which consists of a father and mother figure, along with adopted children. Caleb, however, does not belong, and only his true family can rescue and, ironically, cure him of the vampiric malady. Only now, with the strength of his family, can Caleb stand up to the formidable strength of his immortal captures, thereby ridding the world of an ancient and long forgotten family which, much like the Wild Bunch, simply has no safe place to settle in the modern world.

Top Movies #23

Once Upon a Time in the West (1968)

“How can you trust a man who wears both a belt and suspenders? The man can't even trust his own pants.” – Frank

Once Upon a Time in the West was Sergio Leone’s most expensive Western yet, and his most ambitious. With grand ambition comes the inherent flaws of a production that reaches for impossible goals; but with grand ambition also comes a movie that is undeniably extraordinary. Its scope, its characters, and its landscape convey unforgettable images of the greatest of American genre traditions. All this came from an Italian filmmaker who started his career making low-budget Peplums and Spaghetti Westerns.

Once Upon a Time in the West is not really a Spaghetti Western in the same way that The Man With No Name Trilogy is. Sure Leone’s style is consistent - extreme close-ups, attention to fine detail, and shoot-outs with at least fifteen minutes of anticipation – but Once Upon a Time in the West delivers a much more serious tone and a much more inhabited world. His previous films were limited by budget, but Paramount offered Leone endless resources for Once Upon a Time in the West. It shows. The towns and outposts are packed with detail and extras. A train station is so overwhelmed by passengers that we cannot even see the desert in the distance. Where Spaghetti Westerns took a much more tongue-and-cheek approach to the genre, Once Upon a Time in the West conveys a concerted historical feel.

This scale is felt most clearly during one of the film’s great shootouts. Jason Robards is having a bath in the town’s hotel when he comes under attack. A tightly orchestrated gun fight follows from the balconies, rooftops, and sidewalks of this bustling town. The background action does not call attention to itself, but it is hard to ignore the town’s continued existence outside of the fight, especially when we are so used to shootouts in emptied towns.

The film is most famous for its opening scene, and without this seven minute sequence I doubt I would have added Once Upon a Time in the West to this list. The entire sequence builds to a three second shootout, one of the best I have ever seen. Leone manifests tension and suspense by exploiting the most mundane of annoyances that occupy three impatient assassins. Water slowly drips on one man’s hat, a fly buzzes around another’s ear, and a third is distracted by the uneasy screech of an un-oiled wind fan. The sequence works by distracting these men from their impending duty, while delaying the inevitable confrontation with the oncoming train. It’s the kind of suspense where you find yourself saying, “Come on, already,” but you are nevertheless amused while you wait.

The casting of Henry Fonda as the evil villain was certainly against type for an actor who made a career out of playing the good-natured everyman. Leone’s choice instantly pays off when Fonda’s penetrating turquoise stare looks us down right before he slaughters an entire family. His good guy background and sweet blue eyes make this moment deeply unsettling, and we are convinced of Fonda’s evil without hesitation. His character, however, becomes increasingly interesting as we learn more about his past. We never sympathize with him, but are given a three-dimensional understanding of his personality. Although, considering that the film clocks in at almost three hours, most characters are given the exposition they deserve.

Claudia Cardinale also does a fine job in this film. She looks gorgeous, and clearly asserts herself as an independent woman who can manage her own affairs without the assistance of the three men vying for her attention.

Movie Review: Alien Trespass (2009)

Alien Trespass (2009)

Amidst all of the misconceptions, misunderstandings, and misdemeanors, there is no denying that this is one ballsy movie. Why? Well it’s not because of controversial subject matter within the film (its content is squeaky clean), it’s more because all factors of Alien Trespass (2009) point toward commercial suicide! But dare I say that this movie was made for art’s sake… imagine, a director who made a film that most people wouldn’t see, like, or even care about; a director who a made a film for himself and anyone else who wanted a ride. And evade-my-tractor-beam if that person doesn’t deserve a medal!

The original trailers seemed to suggest that the film would be a wacky spoof of 1950s sci-fi movies, something along the lines of a more handcrafted lampoon of what Dimension would no doubt call Alien Movie. The truth of the matter, however, is that Alien Trespass is in fact an honest-to-God 1950s sic-fi movie, replica that is… There is no outright self-awareness, no irony, no lampoonery, no postmodern buckshot, and no modern references, nothing of this sort save for a thin and very well hidden veneer of clever treats for those who know where to look.

The premise is very simple and very schlocky. A flying saucer crash lands into a hillside somewhere in the deserts of the American southwest. A gooey alien monster, the ghota, escapes from the wreckage and starts terrorizing the citizens of a nearby town; the ship’s noble alien captain, Urp, must find and capture the ghota before the entire town is neutralized into piles of goo and the monster multiplies and moves on. In order to search the town without causing mass panic, Urp inhabits the body of local scientist Ted Lewis (a refreshingly masculine and straight Eric McCormack). Chaos and confusion ensue, especially for Ted’s smoking hot wife Lana (the smoking hot Jody Thompson), Ted’s smoking hot admirer Tammy (the smoking hot Jenni Baird), a dirty minded cop Vernon (the always dry Robert Patrick), and a trio of rebellious adolescents, among others. The cast plays every character as a caricature, not because they are deconstructing the genre, but because they are playing the genre, nothing else.

Helmed by sci-fi enthusiast and expert R.W. Goodwin, who directed arguably the most important X-Files episodes – he always directed the season openers and closers (minus the pilot episode) for the Vancouver years – Alien Trespass employs all of the steady, long, and grainy shots of the 50s, no shaky cam, no handy cam, and no CGI. Filmed primarily in British Columbia’s southern interior, the beautiful and desolate landscapes look and feel authentic, and the mostly Canadian cast emulates their wooden southern neighbors with ease. In breaking from the past, the film’s employment of color/colour is its strongest and most “colorful” feature, a character in itself among the tacky sets, given the benefit of the doubt by its mostly black and white ancestors. Under the direction of Goodwin, a veteran behind the small screen, Alien Trespass retains the claustrophobic undertones of the 1950s yet fully explores the nuances afforded by the iconic landscape. In short, the film achieves its objectives, with a few twists.

All in all, there is nothing actually wrong with the film, but most people won’t find it that interesting because of its intentional mediocrity. The question remains then why wasn’t it made more interesting? After viewing various rifted films in Mystery Science Theater 3000, it makes sense. Those movies don’t need spoofs; the inherent mediocrity takes care of that. It’s almost as if the filmmakers are trying to revive MST3K themselves by giving them something ripe for the rifting! What it comes down to is that this is some of the best escapism you could hope for right now, an honest independent art movie that is true to its word, whether or not anyone actually cares.

3.5/5

S. McSmoke-Smoke

Top Movies #22

Spartan (2004)

“You're gonna leave your life or you're gonna leave the information in this room.” – Scott

Show, don’t tell. Do not waste a single word. Good advice for any writer or filmmaker, and advice that is well understood by writer/director David Mamet. Mamet is a director made famous for his use of language. Throughout his repertoire of movies and stage plays, one would be hard-pressed to find a single superfluous word or dialogue or scene. In Mamet’s work, every little moment has a distinct purpose, and it is always thrilling to watch how he ties everything together.

With Spartan, Mamet tackles the espionage thriller. What makes Spartan wholly unique within its genre is how it allows its characters to speak naturally in colloquialisms, tech jargon, and spy-speak. Initially this dialogue may appear challenging to an audience. If you go with it, however, all your questions will be answered as long as you pay attention. As I said before, every word is important so don’t miss any. Think of it as a dialogue puzzle. The clues are in the action and interaction, and eventually you will figure it out. It is really rewarding to watch a movie that doesn’t assume its audience is stupid. Many spy movies feature dialogue that is clearly catered to the most ignorant viewer with discordant lines such as, “What are we going to do now?” or “What do you think this means?” Mamet assumes that his audience is willing to think a little, and there is great pleasure in unravelling his terse, witty dialogue.

Mamet also plays with your expectations in this movie. Many scenes are set up or planned through conversation or simple generic expectation. Right before the event is to unfold, a red-herring enters the mix and the plot spirals in an entirely new and unexpected direction. These moments could just play for shock value, but here Mamet understands that if you are going to break a rule, you better have something even more exciting waiting to replace it. Spartan is filled with many surprises that even the most jaded view won’t see coming.

One final thing must be said about the always eclectic Val Kilmer. Playing the lead role, whose name or job title we’re never entirely certain about, he creates one of his most memorable characters since Doc Holiday from Tombstone. His character strikes a masterful balance between professional indifference and personal empathy. Everyone else, especially the minor characters, also shines. This is important, because if even the bit-part characters perform at the same level as the leads, it makes it that much harder to estimate a character’s life expectancy.

Book Review: Captain America Omnibus

Captain America Omnibus

Writer: Ed Brubaker
Artists: Steve Epting and Mike Perkins

“Those who expect to reap the blessings of freedom must undergo the fatigue of supporting it.” – Thomas Paine

THE WAY IT WAS

Why does Captain America appeal to me? I’m not sure. Since I first started reading comics on cross-country road trips many years ago, something drew me to the patriotic character, Steve Rogers, and his adventures. The costume certainly had something to do with it. Even as a Canadian, it is hard not to be fired up by that clever combination of red, white, and blue. And he throws a shield! This poses a personal question. What came first: my love of Frisbee, or my love of Captain America?

I think the appeal of the shield is what it represents. It represents a hero who clearly does not choose violence as a first course of action. It represents a hero whose sole weapon is designed for protection and defense. It represents a hero who stands for something important when everyone else chooses to forget. This is the ultimate tragedy of Captain America. He is an old ideal, a legend living in a world that cannot appreciate him as a mortal man. He knows it. He doesn’t fight it, but he does fight for the same things that have always been important to him. He would, and does, die for this ideal because it is the only world he understands; it is the world he has sworn to protect. Steve Rogers is a man out of time.

I hadn’t looked at a comic for at least a decade before I got an urge to catch up on the happenings of my favorite character. I had heard in the news that Captain America had died, and so I looked through the available books to find the one that featured this story arc; it seemed important. What I found is the best graphic novel I have ever read. It is called Captain America Omnibus: an omnibus because it collects the first 25 issues of Ed Brubaker’s award-winning run on the character. It opens with a bold new take on Steve Rogers and his world, and ends with his tragic death. It doesn’t feel like an episodic collection of comic book issues: it reads like a complete work. It is a reinvention of the character, with more of an espionage-tale feel than a superhero-tale feel, but it remains nostalgic and familiar to those of us who have loved the character from the beginning. The writing and characterizations are really what sets this book apart from the rest, and it has some breathtaking artwork to back it up. The dialogue is witty and thought-provoking; much of it foreshadows Cap’s final hours. It is a real testament to Ed Brubaker’s talent as a character writer that he has been able to continue the series minus its main character for the last year and still maintained such a high level of critical acclaim and success. As for the art: I’ve never seen the Red Skull drawn as creepy as Steve Epting draws him. Cap’s arch nemesis looks terrifyingly great. And Epting gives Cap’s world a real graceful, vivid, gritty look that conveys motion and action, as well as subtle, emotional stillness.

REINVENTING THE LEGEND

The first issue opens in Russia with a scene that ominously mirrors the final events of the volume. Two of the most evil men on the planet, The Red Skull and Aleksander Lukin, converse while the body of a defeated hero lies at their feet. The hero wears Russian red, but carries a white star on his chest evocative of Captain America’s own costume. Lukin asks the fallen hero, “So even after the fall, The Red Room still produces men such as yourself? I would have thought that time was long passed.” Lukin could have just as easily been talking to Steve Rogers, for America’s most famous hero finds himself in a very dark time in his life. The time of Captain America, too, has passed. Is there a place for the World War II legend in modern America?

Over the past few months, many of Steve Rogers’ close friends have died. The Avengers have disbanded. With all this tragedy and no prominent team to lead, Captain America is trying to make a new name for himself, while keeping the growing emotional strain at bay. His ex-girlfriend, Sharon Carter, is assigned to keep an eye on him by S.H.I.E.L.D. (Strategic Hazard Intervention, Espionage Logistics Directorate). S.H.I.E.L.D. feels that Rogers has become dangerous and unstable after the break-up of his legendary team, and may require some babysitting. Sharon confronts Rogers and they talk awkwardly about his troubles. It is very rare to see Captain America so fragile and these moments are limited, almost entirely, to private dialogues with Sharon. It is through these moments that we get a sense of how bad things really are. There are subtleties in the art that offer clues as well. During this first conversation, Rogers is wearing a shirt with one single word scrawled across the front: ARMY. This signifies Rogers’ last remaining loyalty: his patriotism toward defending his country. No longer an avenger, no longer infallible: Rogers is merely a soldier.

Captain America has a lot to recover from. Brubaker’s story arc builds subtly from this point, as the crafty writer plants the seeds of resistance in Rogers’ character. Rogers is lost in this modern world, and Captain America is predestined to take a fall. We know it’s happening, even though we don’t really know where it’s going yet. The tragedy is preordained in the characters and their journeys; the pleasure is in watching it unfold. The Red Skull offers some final thoughts about Rogers at the end of this first issue: “You’re at your lowest point, and that’s why you’ll never see me coming this time.” What happens next is nearly as shocking as the final event of issue #25.

The most appealing theme of the Brubaker’s book for me is the demythologized man; that is, the man out of time. Steve Rogers exists in our world carrying the shadow of his former World War II legend. This legend grew over many years, depending on which account you accept for the timeline resulting in Rogers being found in the ice. Now he has a lot to live up to. His glory days are always on his mind, and Rogers is plainly very haunted by his time in the war. He has dreams and flashbacks; he tells Sharon, “In my dreams it’s still 1944.” As soon as he dons his costume and leaves to protect the free world, these concerns are put away. Duty comes first. Captain America, however, cannot seem to shake these disturbing thoughts from his mind. By reflecting so conflictingly upon the past, we become further convinced of a bleak outlook for Rogers’ future. When Captain America is at his most fragile, Nick Fury uncovers a revelation so shocking, it is sure to crush whatever is left of the hero’s spirit. Nick Fury: “I want to be one hundred percent sure about this before I destroy his world.”

There have always been some lingering weaknesses in the Captain America history book, but Brubaker addresses them in this volume admirably. The first is how Captain America, who is almost never drawn holding a firearm, somehow fought in World War II with only a shield. The second is Cap’s pubescent side-kick during the war years, Bucky Barnes, who was originally created in response to the Hitler Youth movement. I have never been a Bucky fan, but Brubaker completely reinvents the Bucky character in such a way that it compliments my first problem. When an American colonel first introduces Cap to Bucky in a military training camp, Rogers immediately dismisses him as a talented but unseasoned youth. The colonel explains, “Just like Captain America has symbolic value, an American teenager fighting alongside him…that’s a powerful symbol too. And if he gets his hands a little dirtier than most soldiers when no one is looking…well, that’ll be our secret, right?” This is a terrific solution. Captain America, who certainly doles out his fair share of violence under Brubaker, possesses too much symbolic value to be seen as a violent, machine gun-toting soldier; therefore, Bucky becomes the figure who sneaks up behind the Nazi to slit his throat, while Captain America, with relatively clean hands, gleans the media’s attention.

THE DEATH OF THE DREAM

I do hesitate to ruin the conclusion of this excellent volume, but considering that the final spoiler was aired all over the national news, I don’t feel so bad. And I am compelled to put the event into the context of the story and its main character, if only for my own analysis.

Civil War is the final straw. Sharon asks, “If Captain America doesn’t follow the law, then who does?” Steve Rogers replies, “That’s why I can’t. The issue isn’t black and white, and those are the only colors the law can see.” The problem is that those are also the only colors Captain America can see. The Civil War truly devastates his conception of right and wrong, when he must fight a futile battle against one of his most enduring friends.

The final issue of this volume opens with a reflection upon the birth of Captain America. The captions read: “The experiment that created Captain America left one man to carry on in the place of all others that might have been. One man to carry that burden. He made it look easy. Even though it never was. And he never stopped fighting for what he believed in, or for what he believed his country should be.” After an entire volume devoted Steve Rogers’ memories, in this final issue we are offered the memories of others. The life and meaning of Captain America are reduced down to newsreels and the quiet thoughts of old ladies watching black and white televisions. This, and flashbacks to World War II, are juxtaposed with Steve having tomatoes thrown at his face by a crowd who has forgotten everything he’s done for them. This scene possesses more power than just the stark irony of feeble public opinion: it also shows the contrast of the old world and the new, the more simple, heroic war years, and the malignly complicated present.

The ultimate conflict for Rogers is how to reconcile his fight for what he believes is right with the innocent casualties that suffer collaterally. In the end, he realizes that in fighting for his beliefs and in upholding his values, he has threatened the same people he has sworn to protect. This is inexcusable. Rogers surrenders himself, the only hero to do this, to the proper authorities. His mask is removed and he is taken to a public court, but he never makes it up the steps.

Writer Ed Brubaker and artist Steve Epting do something very interesting in these final frames. Steve Rogers appears to acknowledge the location of the sniper. Rogers, however, doesn’t move. He simply calls out for the people around him to look out, as he takes a round in the back. He has accepted his fate. It is too much for this man - who is supposed to represent all that is good in an ideal America – to live with the disgrace he now feels. He realizes that the great symbol that was Captain America is already dead; it no longer fits a purpose in modern America. The symbol was burned up in the bonfire of destructive bipartisan conflict and nuclear weapons and modern warfare and inescapable media coverage. What good is the symbol in a world where good and evil are no longer so clearly defined? Perhaps in death Captain America can rally the world and remind it what is truly worth fighting for. In death his legend is preserved.

If you’ve never read Captain America, that’s okay; this is a grand introduction to the character. If you have, you’ll enjoy this book for its nostalgia as much for its new espionage-focused take on the legendary character. It is a big impressive hardcover book and so it comes with a large price tag, but you can find it on Amazon for 40% off. It is worth every penny. You will come back to this story and its unforgettable artwork time and time again to experience one of the most important and impressive runs on Captain America of all time.

Professor P