BOOK ROUNDTABLE (Entry 3): Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

SPOILERS: Colbinski and Nimero are engaging in a back-and-forth discussing the final Harry Potter book. All matters in the book will be discussed. SPOILERS

Click here for Entry 1 of this Roundtable; Here for Entry 2

Harry, Ron and Hermione needed to know about the Hallows, they didn’t need to find them. It’s the knowledge of them that’s important and the knowledge jobs go to Hermione. The wand-lore and who disarmed who and it’s the wizard and not the wand and all that jazz (I can’t say I found that talk interesting or easy to follow) all plays into the myth of the deathstick or Elder Wand. Our heroes needed to know about the Hallows. To defeat Voldemort - and the Horcruxes – they had to understand what the old fiend was up to. Like I noted, the Horcrux v. the Hallows was an intriguing development. It also symbolized the differing quests Harry and Voldemort were on: one of self-sacrifice, the other for ultimate power.

Speaking of Horcruxes, I thought it would be dumb for Harry to be one of the final Horcrux. I thought the revelation of that was handled well. Sort of. But let me get this straight: all those years ago, Lily’s charm – her love for Harry – rubbed off on Voldemort at the same time Harry was implanted with part of Voldemort’s soul thus making him a Horcrux. Huh? Combine this with the wand business and the final confrontation is a calculus question and not an epic battle of good and evil.

Your observation about wizards, goblins, and elves fighting and suffering together is acute. Just as Rowling complicated Dumbledore past the Gandalf imitation he appeared as in the early books, I enjoyed the complicated relationship of “good” wizards with Goblins. The history is murky and from what we know it’s one which bad blood carries through the generations. How does Voldemort’s defeat impact these various magical creatures? Since Voldemort wanted to purify the magical world, my optimistic self sides on the fact that a new dawn has risen after this book.

Apparently, in that dawn Ron learns to do Muggle stuff like drive a car. (Remember, Mr. Weasley loved Muggle machines, so it’s not so farfetched.) On one hand I enjoyed the snapshot – and the epilogue is nothing if not a snapshot showing one morning 19 years ahead with no preamble or afterward – portrayed. It implies a simple and decent life for our trio. But we don’t know how simple. Perhaps, Harry is the head Auror and Hermione is the head of the Ministry of Magic. I don’t know. That’s part of what made it a satisfying epilogue. I just wish there was an immediate aftermath chapter that fills in some post-Voldemort developments.

I’ll leave you with a head-scratcher: the last we see the sword of Griffindor, the Goblin escapes with it but yet Neville finds it in the burning Sorting Hat (add it to the death list?) to destroy the snake Horcrux. How’d he get that sword? Wizard’s property laws are magical? Nonetheless, Longbottom screaming “Dumbledore’s Army!” while going one on one with Voldemort left me cheering.

BOOK ROUNDTABLE (Entry 2): Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

SPOILERS. Colbinski and Nimero are engaging in a back-and-forth discussing the final Harry Potter book. All matters in the book will be discussed. SPOILERS


Click here for Entry 1 of this Roundtable

I agree with Colbinski that it was an impressive and entertaining read. I do have some quibbles to be addressed, though. Both with Colbinski and with the book overall. While the story does move briskly and Rowling has an uncanny ability to end each chapter with you wanting more, there is a tendency for the story to flag a page or two into each chapter. Then the chapter picks up again, some action occurs usually preceded by helpful exposition, and then off to a humdinger of an ending.

It works. It works well. But looking back over the book there’s too much. Too much close calls. Too much of teenagers defeating adult wizards who in later scenes we see dueling evenly with other accomplished wizards. I would have been happier with spending time with the quest rather than it becoming a chase story. I agree about the Umbridge sidetrack. Umbridge is never mentioned again. Was she a Death Eater or just a loyal ministry bureaucrat? Her name isn’t mentioned during the Battle of Hogwarts so I suspect the latter although she seemed too gleeful about torture not to join, no?

I have no quarrel with how much face time Snape received. The “Is Snape good or bad?” question was one of the most important going into this book. Keeping him off the page and out of the action was wise. It did not become a distraction to attempt to parse all of Snape’s actions into answering that question. In fact, the answer to this question was about the only correct prediction I had concerning this book.

It is a very clever book set up nicely by its predecessors. Snape is explained cleverly. Sharing Dumbledore’s wisdom is clever. Having house elves and goblins we meet earlier in the series play roles is clever. I’m sure if I reread all the books at once I will see even more connections and foreshadowing (Colbinski already points out the Dumbledore trading card). One area that Rowling was not clever enough was the gifts left to Hermione. Hermione is constantly reading the book left to her by Dumbledore but I’m not sure any useful information is gained from it. She notices the Deathly Hallows sign in the book which leads them to Harry’s birthplace and then to the Lovegood house. As Dumbledore wanted them to be looking for Horcruxes and not the Hallows this obviously wasn’t the information he intended her to glean. So what was the purpose of the book to Hermione? Am I missing some other information it provided?

My biggest criticism is the epilogue. Partly because I never approved of the Harry/Ginny connection I didn’t really care to see them married with kids. Mostly because it was just too tidy. The small glimpses we see are the characters as we know them from the seven years the books cover only now with kids. There’s no insight to the effect of the world on them for the past nineteen years. They are living as you would imagine them living if Voldermort never returned and everything went swimmingly during their time at Hogwarts. At the end of the Battle of Hogwarts it is noted how wizards of all ages and Houses and bloodlines were sitting together with elves and centaurs. The scenes with the goblin and house elves intimated that there may be integration of all magical creatures throughout the wizarding world. Did that happen? Was the Minstry of Magic still a useless governmental agency or could it now affect change? I was less interested that Harry’s kid didn’t want to be a Slytherin than the fact that Hogwarts still held different Houses. I wanted to know if house elves were liberated or if goblins could use wands. I know the epilogue is there to put to rest any talk of Voldermort not being dead or a way to stop any further Harry adventures. But it seemed pointless. The last two sentences of the epilogue would have worked as well, if not better, as the last two sentences of the final chapter.

BOOK ROUNDTABLE (Entry 1): Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

SPOILERS. Colbinski and Nimero are engaging in a back-and-forth discussing the final Harry Potter book. All matters in the book will be discussed. SPOILERS

Overall, I was impressed with Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. With few exceptions it moved briskly and, as always, Rowling is a clever plotter, with even the most predictable plot points always seeming fresh when finally unveiled.

The quest set-up, as opposed to the Hogwarts school year set-up, worked well. Unfortunately it meant that meant that secondary characters waited in the wings until the final turn. This limited how much of the Hogwarts staff and students we see. It’s almost criminal how little time Snape gets, especially so when we find out how freaking important Snape is to Harry’s victory!

Before my questions and/or criticisms let me start with a device I liked: Harry & Company’s search for the Horcruxes contrasted with Harry’s vision of Voldemort’s quest, for what he would find out, is the Elder Wand of the Deathly Hallows. Harry had no idea what Voldemort was up to, and Voldemort had no idea that Harry was active and not just “in hiding.” Voldemort’s hubris is on full display in this volume and it all fits into his path of resurgance – he thought the Horcruxes were safe; he knew nothing past the obvious about the Hallows; he knew nothing of how elves could travel.

That last point struck me as somewhat of a cop-out: Dobby to the rescue! Perhaps it’s because since book 2, I’ve found the elves we’ve met, Dobby and Kreacher, to always be plot contrivances. Here, they do the same: Kreacher provides important information about the Horcrux locket and Dobby dies a hero. On the most part, I delight in Rowling’s ability to re-introduce and rehash characters and events; I just have no patience for these house-elves. Dobby death was more annoying to me than gripping.

OK, let’s get to the other deaths: Mad-Eye’s death was a wonderful red herring. It happens early and I’m sure every reader thought there was a chance he would come back. Fred’s death was inevitable – by inevitable, I mean that at least one Weasley had to perish. Lupin and Tonks’ deaths were oddly off-screen. I suppose that makes sense – Harry would have been too distracted upon seeing those deaths and that whole Battle of Hogwarts scene was through his eyes. Snape dies as soon as he enters the action. But I did like that he dies without anyone knowing what he did only to be appreciated after the smoke clears. It’s a shame that the epilogue didn’t deal with the immediate ramifications of these deaths and the wizarding world in general.

Dumbledore’s back-story was executed with grace and intrigue. Again, Rowling takes a story we learn from a collectible card in book 1 and turns it into an important event. I, of course, speak of Dumbledore and Grindelwald’s duel.

Dumbledore was all over this story in a good way. Another excellent red herring was the blue eyes in the mirror shard and I enjoyed the Aberforth storyline. Was the bartender as Hog’s Meade ever identified before?

Two major criticisms: Ron’s contrived leaving and returning with news he slowly remembers over the next few chapters. I wish Rowling found a better way for Harry, Hermoine and Ron to get information while laying low.

My second criticism is that Umbridge ended up with the locket. I could have done without the whole Ministry break-in. The break-in to Gringrotts would have sufficed.

I'll leave it here for now. I haven't even mentioned Neville's kicking ass or the convulted wand-lore that hurts my head when I think about it too long. For now, I'll turn it over you, Nimero.

MOVIE REVIEW: SiCKO

Do not view Michael Moore’s new documentary SiCKO, as an encompassing argument against the U.S healthcare system. As its title indicates the main purpose is to show what is wrong with said system. On that it does an admirable (if not easy) job. There is no argument because, other than clips of politicians praising new health policy, this documentary shows no defense for U.S. healthcare. And what it does present is not nuanced or multi-layered, as is Moore’s wont.

There is barely a mention of American exceptionalism or the history of volunteerism that has guided the U.S. healthcare system to its current paltry state. It does not mention that throughout the years labor unions have been as much to blame as the AMA for preventing any type of national healthcare from moving forward. It bandies about the terms “socialized medicine” and “national health care” without definition or context. This is especially true in the second half of the movie when the focus shifts from what’s wrong with the American way to what’s right with the healthcare systems of Canada, Great Britain, France, and Cuba. All the glories of these systems are presented but not how these systems work. Despite these failings it is still an enjoyable and good film.

If every American saw this film I have no doubt a healthcare revolution would occur. But because it offers no solutions (“other countries do it better and cheaper than we do” is not a solution) I would fear that the American people would accept any change whether it is better or worse than the current system. SiCKO makes a strong case that change is necessary but then offers no specifics on what that change should be or how it should come about. SiCKO (and most other media outlets) makes it appear that the choice is either the current U.S. system or a universal payer national system. There are no alternatives to these broad brushes mentioned even though the four countries presented as antithesis to the U.S. all have systems that differ from each other. Which one should we emulate? A professor of mine, who has studied U.S. and international healthcare for many years, once stated that the U.S. would be best off if we went more towards the French system. From my Health Policy class I took with him, I am inclined to agree but you could never come to that conclusion from watching SiCKO.

I suppose this is my biggest problem with SiCKO. Other than C-SPAN clips of politicians patting themselves on the back for passing policy written by the insurance companies there is only interviews with ordinary people adversely affected by the current system. These human-interest stories are the heart of the film but I was expecting to see some non-politician wonks talk about the system. I know this is not what Moore does but it cheats the audience. If Moore really wanted to change the U.S. healthcare system, leave out the other countries and provide various suggestions by experts on what can actually be done. The film may make you raise your fist in rage and demand that something changes but it provides no path to turn that rage into constructive energy. And that’s what is needed to change the U.S. healthcare system.

MOVIE REVIEW: In Between Days

This small film represents what I enjoyed about independent movies when the word “independent” first came into vogue. The recent change to films that seem to be all zany families, quirky characters or outlandish situations can make one forget how enjoyable indies used to be. In not trying to be more than it is, In Between Days has resonance not found in its slicker, more stylized cousins.

Aimee (Jiseon Kim) is either distracted or daydreaming forever doodling when she should be studying. She does focus on Tran (Taegu Andy Kang) but only in a teenage crush type of way. She attempts to determine his feelings for her while steering clear of revealing hers first. We see little interaction of Aimee with other friends and when it does occur she is awkward and self-conscious. Perhaps it is due to speaking English, which takes away the comfort she feels with communicating with Tran in her native Korean. But language is not the only barrier for there appears to be an uncomfortable distance between her and her mother (Bokja Kim) with whom she has recently immigrated to this unnamed North American city.

As a result of these interactions Aimee is recognizable and easily liked by the viewer. The film only takes us into the life of Aimee for a about a week but a deft performance by Jiseon Kim makes her feel like someone we know intimately. Her eyes and puffed up face hide emotions while a sly smile is sometimes used to portray the momentary glimpses of joy and hope a young teenager with a crush feels. A hand held camera that follows the characters around without staging them but is capable of getting close-ups without obtrusiveness adds to the intimacy of the story.

The slow pace and short running time are actually advantages to the overall story. The most striking scenes are of still landscape images with Aimee’s voice emanating from the background. She reads letters written to her absent father illustrating a world she imagines her father would like her to have. These unmoving images that Aimee recites these letters over not only represents the change to the new location Aimee and her mother have undergone but also illustrate the problems Aimee has dealing with these changes.

DVD REVIEW: Little Children

In my Top Movies 2006 list I mention Little Children as a film I had not yet seen but one that, perhaps, due to its critical adulation would be on that list. Well, now having watched it I can safely say that it would have had no impact at all on that list. It is not bad enough to have made any mention, even on my short list of the two worst I saw all year but it is an awful film nonetheless.

The story can be summed up as thus: uninteresting characters making uninspired choices. Lets see, we have vulture-like housewives who watch over their children in a local playground. The most bored of these housewives ends up in an affair with a clueless househusband. We know she is the most bored because we are told what subject she studied in college and that information is supposed to make her the most interesting of all the cardboard caricatures that inhabit this story. Throw in a porn addicted husband, a battle-ax mother-in-law, an ex-cop with mental problems, and some very creepy scenes involving a pederast and you have what most critics considered some sort of modern masterpiece. Instead it is the most boring, uninvolving film I have seen in some time.

I suppose certain middle-aged critics who may live in suburbia can find something to relate to. I have no idea. I also never understood why Todd Field’s first film In the Bedroom was so well received. Field may well be the most overrated filmmaker working today. “Lesser” movies, those that don’t aspire through marketing or literary pedigree to be taken as “serious films”, are often derided for the same reasons Little Children and In the Bedroom were praised: coincidences and poor character choices done solely to move towards the end of the story. In action movies it is called cliché, but, for some reason beyond my comprehension, in Todd Field’s overwrought dramas it is considered art.

On Being Born

A child was born on a cold rainy night thirteen days into the month of March. This child was brought forth at six and a half months gestation, propelled into the world by a brother who had the audacity to arrive unannounced. For seven short minutes this child was an individual, a namesake for the father. Then the surprise happened. For better or worse, this child would be known as a twin for evermore.

Most children have their first pictures taken red-faced and squalling cradled in the bosom of a harried mother. The first photo evidence for this child (and his twin brother) is a small white bundle, barely discernable as an infant, lying in a ventilation chamber visible only through the chicken wire encased window of a strong oak hospital door. Born prematurely, Death hovers in the room with him. It’s icy grip anxiously waiting to grab hold of the 4.6 ounces of human flesh and bone. This child, not knowing any better, fights on as every breath is challenged. After seventeen long days this child (and his twin brother) are permitted to go home and join his parents and other siblings.

This child has fought death and must now face life.

MOVIE REVIEW: Spiderman 3

One of the strengths of Sam Raimi’s original Spiderman was its ability to feel like a comic book. As many dreadful movies based on comics show, this task isn’t easy to pull off. Balancing of a comic’s goofy majesty and a movie’s demand for gritty realism is a precarious one to maintain even in the superhero movie genre. Spiderman accomplished this feat with easy aplomb. Whether it was Spidey’s web-slinging and wise-cracking through the city or Peter Parker’s trials as a nerdy and lonely high-school student, Raimi pulled together that first movie with a deftness and cleverness, which, remarkably enough, he was able to keep fresh for the second installment in the franchise. The newest entry to this saga, Spiderman 3, doesn’t seem burdened by the comic book magic conjured in the first two. In fact, it decides to shed that magic. Raimi re-visits old stories, re-vamps Spidey’s first – and most important lesson (“With great power comes great responsibility”) - and muddles up an overloaded plot with a climax that is lazy and contrived and, as a result, a disappointing entirety of a movie.

It starts well enough. Unfolding the daily drama of Peter Parker and his relationship with Mary Jane against Spiderman’s growing popularity the movie seems relaxed and confident. Interjected into this is the revenge plot of the New Goblin, Harry Osbourne, son of the Green Goblin, against Spiderman. This first action sequence is pretty amazing stuff: going through alleys and among rooftops, the scene plays out like a rollercoaster ride. Many times throughout the camera changes angles and one second we’re watching Spiderman in pursuit and the next we roll out in front of the Goblin then back around again. It was chaotic and exhilarating to watch.

Peter’s domestic life gets chaotic as well. Mary Jane is frustrated with her life as a singer but can’t get an oblivious Peter to understand. Spiderman’s grandstanding – he’s given a key to the city and Peter relates all this to a distraught Mary Jane - just adds to all this. Then there’s Flint Marko, an escaped criminal, who falls into a particle accelerator, or something of the like, and, in a magnificent resurrection scene, rises again with his body turned to sand. Marko is also connected to Peter’s Uncle Ben’s death (which happened in the first movie). Oh, and a meteorite falls to Earth – in Central Park right near where Peter and Mary Jane are – and a strange black goo emerges and hitches a ride on Peter’s scooter. Finally, there’s Eddie Brock, a photographer, who’s giving Peter competition at the Daily Bugle for Spiderman shots.

At first, Raimi juggles all these plotlines convincingly. They slowly merge and the pace works, balancing the Peter parker scenes with the crowd-pleasing action sequences. But soon the story hits a wall. The alien goo takes over his Spiderman costume turning it black and turning Peter into a narcissistic jackass. Raimi milks some comedy out of Peter’s newfound jerkiness but the denouement of the “black costume” Spiderman is rushed and stilted.

After that the movie surrenders to lazy writing – characters are redeemed based on an admission by an extremely minor character, which is laughably obvious and poorly executed - and boring action sequences. I sat through the final 25 minutes befuddled by how the movie went sour. As opposed to the first two, it was the comic book that imposed the limitations. But in this installment, the story seeks inspiration by throwing in characters from the comic without thought or purpose (Gwen Stacey). Finally, by cramming in the black costume/Eddie Brock/Venom storyline, Spiderman 3 became a victim – just like Peter Parker in the movie- of its own popularity.

MOVIE REVIEW: The Host

Soon after the strange creature rises from the Han River, making its first appearance in The Host, a monster movie from Korea, the title of the movie becomes clear: the creature is the host of a possible virus that threatens the populace of South Korea. But soon, the title also applies to the bumbling hero, Gang-Du, who was sprayed in the face with some of the creature’s blood and could also be hosting the virus and, as a result, is poked and prodded and treated like chattel by the authorities. Then as the film unfolds further, the host of the virus may very well be those authorities - the American military presence that still exists since the 1950’s in South Korea. After all, it was a US Military official who orders toxic chemicals are poured into the Han River, which, 6 years later, results in this monster. Then, the US sends in the CDC to help with the possible problem of the virus while also making a hero of a US serviceman who succumbs to the virus. And they may or may not be holding back some pertinent facts.

Unlike classic monster movies – like, for example, one of my all-time favorites Them - where the government and military are the heroes protecting the people from the otherworldly threat, in The Host this same intervention creates miscommunication and bureaucracy. The suspicion and cynicism directed at the military is a reflection of the current time. Here we have the authorities acting as they wish against a creature they don’t attempt to understand. The face-off climaxes with the release of a weapon to fight the creature among protests by citizens uncertain and suspicious of the way events are being handled.

Working their way through all this is the Park family. Hyun-seo, daughter of Gang-Du, is last seen wrapped in the tail of the amphibious monster that disappears under the river. The family has reason to believe that she is still alive, trapped beneath the river in a sewer. Because the authorities won’t help, the family - Gang-Du’s father, Hie-bong, the owner of a foodstand where Gang-Du also works; his brother, Nam-il, a disillusioned college graduate and current ne'er-do-well; and his sister Nam-Joo, an accomplished archer - band together to rescue Hyun-seo. The family’s quest against both the government and the monster creates a tension from which humor (many times uncomfortably hilarious slapstick scenes), warmth, and, of course, the usual family dysfunction exist.

As for the monster part of this monster movie, The Host doesn’t rely on quick editing to manufacture scares. Nor does it pile on the gore. Two of the best scenes in The Host represent a tour-de-force of directing by Joon-ho Bong. He leaves the action off-screen long enough to fool the audience into thinking one thing happens only to reveal that another has. By slowly unfolding the scenes - each one represents only a few seconds of time - and allowing us to breath a sigh of relief makes the revelation of the true terrible reality to resonate all the more.

The crowd I saw The Host with reacted the same way to both these scenes – gasps of surprise then a slow murmur of “oh no” buzzed throughout the theatre – which only drives home the humanism that Joon interjects into the movie. Sure, it’s a big monster from the river, but what the monster’s rampage tells us about our own dealings with family and society is where the real movie magic happens.

DVD REVIEW: Pusher

From Denmark and made in 1996 (the first part of the eventual Pusher Trilogy), Pusher explores a week in the life of a small-time drug dealer who tries to solve his money problems by getting in over his head on a big score. It balances the ordinariness of the everyday with gritty street life existence and does so convincingly.

Frank seems to be eking out a meager existence as a dealer. He pals around with his friend Tonny and is involved romantically with Vic, a dancer. When an old jail acquaintance comes to him with a sure thing, Frank goes into hock with even further with Milo, the local bigwig. In between he stays out late, parties, and has inane conversations with Tonny about sex and women.

As Frank’s dilemma builds the mood of the movie becomes more frantic. His brooding personality turns to distraction as he attempts to collect money form the various losers that owe him. Soon, of course, this all catches up to him. The movie is at once grim with cloudy, damp, cold Denmark as a backdrop, as well as human. Frank becomes not an anti-hero of cool as portrayed in many modern films that feature such characters, but a well-rounded and deftly conceived character that makes poor decisions to correct bad ones.

There are some heart-pounding scenes of power by director Nicolas Winding Refn – Frank running through the streets shown from a longview from the sidewalk with the police in pursuit and when Frank at his wit’s end tries to collect money from a hapless and scared junkie. The script tells it story without the flair for the melodramatic and/or grandiose exclamation point that spoils many of the genre’s endings. Instead, the finality and ambiguity of ending simply adds a period to the final shot to make all that leads up to it all the more remarkable.

DVD REVIEW: X-Men 3: The Last Stand

A mish-mash of a movie that is clumsy and shallow and an altogether poor follow-up to the previous two X-Men movies, X-Men 3: The Last Stand is disappointing mostly because of the potential that it wastes. The previous installments directed by Bryan Singer, provide much fertile ground for this story to take seed, yet it uses narrative as distraction between action scenes and doesn’t try to drill for the depths that seems to come naturally for other comic book movies (Spiderman for instance).

The story is about a mutant who is able to take powers away from other movies and the pharmaceutical company that exploits this child’s power to create a “cure” for all mutants. The allegory that exists between this and the search for the “gay gene” in our contemporary times is unexplored. The head of the drug company moves ahead with this because his son is a mutant with big feathery wings sprouting from his back. Fans of the X-Men comic book will be sorely disappointed to see how underdeveloped the character of Angel is. To say he’s a plot device to make a point about the kindness in those poor misunderstood mutant hearts is an understatement. The use of Angel and his relationship with his father is contrived, silly, and laughably resolved.

There’s also incoherence to the scenes. Wolverine murderously slices his way through Magneto’s guards outside of a forest retreat. That’s it. Nothing more happens. Just an excuse to have Wolverine go on a killing rampage. There are a few surprises but these are shoehorned in between such drivel that their dramatic effect is negated. The fate of Wolverine’s love for Jean Grey is ham-handedly foreshadowed that one waits with impatience for it to happen if only so that this ordeal of a movie can end.

DVD REVIEW: Half Nelson

Half Nelson concerns itself with a middle-school teacher with a drug habit, the student who discovers him smoking crack in the gym locker room, and the complicated relationship that ensues between the two. Its strongest point is the straightforward way that Dan Dunne’s, the teacher, and Drea’s, the student, concern for each other affect the unfolding of the story. Drea’s back-story – her imprisoned brother and her surrogate father, who is also a drug-dealer – are known to the audience but are kept from Dan. How this lack of knowledge affects the way Dan approaches Drea’s wellbeing is superbly illustrated.

Though the movie does lag a bit after the initial set-up and takes, perhaps, too long to reach its end, it’s anchored by the performances. Ryan Gosling is understated as the teacher. He reaches not for pathos but achieves sympathy for exacting the line between his own tormented actions and his need to do well in the classroom. Shareeka Epps as Drea shows a determined yet vulnerable strength as she struggles to understand her teacher’s weaknesses, her mother’s absence due to working double shifts and Frank’s, the local drug dealer, kindness and generosity.

The movie becomes episodic in its middle part – and a few of these represent the heart of the movie: Dan runs into a father of a former student at a bar and Drea visits her brother in prison. Early in the film, Dan tells an acquaintance that he just wants to reach one student and that’s all. These scenes heart-wrenchingly display the yawning divide that all teachers must navigate: their own failings and the complex tug of the world outside of the classroom.

DVD REVIEW: Why We Fight

Why We Fight looks at the motivation of the current Iraq War by documenting the half-century of the growing “military-industrial complex.” Lucidly and forthrightly presenting the business and political needs for war, this documentary powerfully explains the current imperial folly our country has undertaken and the institutions in place that allows it to do so. As one speaker explains it, the idea of war – and the businesses that manufacture the weapons, the armed forces that spend the money to buy those weapons, the think tanks that write policy supporting the use of those weapons, and the politicians that protect the weapons-makers - is so embedded in the fabric of our foreign policy that it is invisible. For example, while as Secretary of Defense under President George H.W. Bush, Dick Cheney saw a proposal for the army to outsource its service programs to private concerns. Later as CEO of Halliburton, one of its subsidiaries, Kellogg, Brown and Root becomes the country’s leader in providing these services to the Pentagon. Then as Vice President, Halliburton wins a no-bid contract for non-military services in the Iraq war. Of course, this evolution is by the book in the legal sense and there’s no paper trail of criminal misdeeds or shadowy conspiracy. This allows those that connect the dots to be written off as paranoid. But the dots are there to be connected. And to not be a little paranoid at this juncture is to be guilty of partaking in the “legalized corruption,” in the words of another commentator, of our system of laws that have allowed this entrenchment to become the status quo.

MOVIE REVIEW: Seraphim Falls

I remember while watching Nevada Smith as a boy being befuddled near the movie’s climax when Nevada has a change of heart toward the man who killed his parents. The same man he had vowed revenge on and pursued for all those years. He sought this man the entire movie only to give up now? It made no sense. My cousin explained to me that heroes don’t kill for revenge and Nevada realized this thus becoming a true hero. Oh, I thought. OK. That makes sense. The film set me up for revenge as Nevada’s triumph and instead, he achieved a triumph of a different kind. Wow, what a great movie my 8-year old self thought.

That was one of my first experiences with the Western. That archetype of the cowboy hero with the white hat has stayed with me – and stays with me still. Of course the portrayal of such heroes has become more complex. Perhaps, it was the cynical Vietnam-era movies like The Wild Bunch that ushered in the change. There the story centers on a ragtag group of anti-heroes and the viewer’s bloodlust is rewarded, in a sense, by a great violent ending (that also captivated my younger self). Live by the gun; die by the gun, so to speak. Later still, we have William Munny of Clint Eastwood’s Unforgiven. An anti-hero - his revenge scene is the best scene in a movie rife with great scenes -who can’t change yet he survives.

Mixing many of these archetypes and set on a smaller, character-driven scale – yet pregnant with epic ambition - is Seraphim Falls, a solid revenge movie that begins in the Ruby Mountains of Nevada in 1868 and ends in the cracked-earth desolation of a Nevada desert. Its main strength is the set-up: it begins as a terrific pursuit movie. Gideon (Pierce Brosnan) is shot while preparing a rabbit over a fire. He tumbles down the snowy mountain, falls into a icy river, and keeps on the move not knowing who pursues him or why. Soon we meet Carver (Liam Neeson) and 4 trackers. This opening sequence spans about 20 minutes and is done with minimal dialogue. It is exhilarating to watch. The patience of Carver contrasted with the frenzied escape of Gideon presents two elements that will define the rest of the story: Carver’s commitment to killing this man and Gideon’s ability to survive.

Carver wants Gideon dead for committing a terrible act of war involving Carver’s family in the waning days of the Civil War, an act that haunts both men. The one weakness of the screenplay (by David Von Ancken, who also directed, and Abby Everett Jaques) is that Gideon is given too much wiggle room to not be personally responsible for the crime against Carver’s family. His “it was war” excuse doesn’t satisfy Carver (and it shouldn’t), but it seemed that it tries to hard to exonerate him to the audience. In addition, the story almost loses its footing with some heavy-handed metaphors about using violence as an end versus finding a remedy to one’s problems. It worked for me – I didn’t mind the intrusion of the Indian at the waterhole or the traveling saleswoman peddling snake oil - with the exception of one scene where Gideon allows a bottle of elixir (“to fix what ails you”) to crash to the ground.

The movie is grounded by the performances: Brosnan is at his peak and probably the best I’ve ever seen him. Recovering in a small ranch while on the run, he has a gentle scene with a young boy then turns steely as the boy makes a grab for his satchel. Neeson matches him. His stature serves him well as the pursuit begins – he bullies the other trackers with the right amount of authority and threat. He faces an imperious railroad foreman with disdain and guile. Then his hulking presence, with the shoulders drooping, as he and Brosnan are both beaten and weary from the pursuit shows the cost of his obsession.

Carver’s quest for revenge puts him on the road that Gideon has been traveling all this time. Coming across an abandoned wagon in the desert, Carver remarks that there are choices a man makes to end up in a place like this. The real trick is finding out what a man needs to do to get out of a place like that.

MOVIE REVIEW: Inland Empire

David Lynch’s Inland Empire is, to be utterly unoriginal about it, an enigma. I’ve enjoyed his films in the past, most notably Eraserhead, Elephant Man, and The Straight Story. Blue Velvet had it moments as did Mulholland Drive. Of his past films (that I have viewed)Inland Empire shares the most similarities with Mulholland Drive. The aspects of Mulholland Drive that lost my interest are the same elements that take up almost 2 hours of Inland Empire’s almost 3 hour length. Sure, Inland Empire is an enigma, but it’s a candy store Chinese puzzle type of enigma: you can’t work it out and you don’t know why you bothered in the first place.

OK, perhaps not as superficial as the above example. It’s dazzling at times and the cat and mouse with the audience about what is real; what is part of the movie being made within the movie; what is a dream; has this character assumed the identity of that character is fascinating. At first. But on and on it goes with more possible dreamscapes and switched identities and movies within a movie and possibly dreams within dreams. I lustily stayed with all these gear changes waiting for a great sorting out, but as it reached its end, I knew that no narrative conclusion would be found. On and on it went. Even into the credits, where a dance number took place among the characters of the movie. That was actually fun and zany – in a regular zany way, not in the David Lynch zany way.

The story, as it where, is about Nikki Grace, an actress, (Laura Dern) getting a plum part in what could be a comeback role. Cast opposite her in the movie is a womanizing young actor named Devon Burk (Justin Theroux). Nikki also has a jealous husband. And on the first day of the shoot, they all discover that the movie was made once before with terrible ends for the actors involved (due to a gypsy curse). Also, Nikki, before getting the part, meets a new neighbor who tells her about a boy who brings evil into the world and a girl who gets lost at the market. So far, so good. The movie establishes this story thread tightly with limited interruption from the various dreams, motley characters, and settings that will soon intrude.

Then there’s a weeping woman watching a TV and three anthromorphized rabbits on a sitcom set - laugh track and all. Later there’s a bunch of Hollywood Boulevard prostitutes with hearts of gold or sad empty eyes, depending on the scene. Oh, I almost forgot about the Eastern European circus workers who show up at a suburban barbeque. And the odd office of a rumpled man atop a strip club. Somehow the movie moves along undistracted by all these seemingly incongruous elements. It’s actually sort of ingenious how it does move along: Nikki goes through a door and her reality changes. It sublimely done and I’m sure Lynch fans will pay close attention to all the doorways in future viewings and track the various levels of the story that way.

I will say this for David Lynch: he can create a sense of foreboding from familiar situations like no one else. Blue Velvet’s tension between the placid life of suburban America contrasted with it’s seedy underbelly established this foreboding in a way that was miles ahead of its time. While mimicked countless times since, other filmmakers just don’t have the surreal approach of Lynch to pull it off. This same uncomfortableness is on display in Inland Empire. Drapes are blood red, lamps buzz as if they were hives of angry hornets, and living room conversations over tea take on a sense of danger. Lynch cues this with close-ups of reaction shots and quick cuts between the conversation. Much of this is counterbalanced by other scenes that are brightly shot and are sweet or funny or absurd (like the prostitutes breaking into “Locomotion.”) These patented Lynch touches prevent the wheels from falling off. In fact, in some ways, these scenes are the glue between the dreams, the alternate realities, and the downward spiral of Nikki Grace and/or her character in the movie within the movie.

Some of Inland Empire works: what works does so as individual scenes, as wonderful examples of the medium of filmmaking. Much of it doesn’t work. Ultimately, I was nonplussed by it all. It was an interesting ride that kept my attention but I left shrugging my shoulders when it was all over. Too many doors never closed. Too many windows into David Lynch’s mind that remain wide open.

BOOK REVIEW: The Pale Blue Eye

Gus Landor, a retired New York City constable is hired by West Point to investigate a cadet’s mysterious death in the autumn of 1831. During the course of the investigation, Landor employs the help of another cadet. That cadet, it turns out, is a young Edgar Allan Poe. And thus is the set-up for Louis Bayard’s latest novel The Pale Blue Eye.

Bayard expertly maps the rigors of cadet life in the 1830’s as well as the political reasons that the U.S. Military Academy wants to keep the investigation quiet. It’s subtle and comes out through Landor’s observations and conversations. Landor, recently widowed and fairly new to the upstate New York region that houses the Academy, serves as a wonderful pair of eyes and ears for the reader. He is a stranger to military life and his past occupation as a detective allows him to provide his tale with the details of the discipline and mind-set that his investigation runs up against.

Landor immerses himself in the investigation and Poe becomes an invaluable asset. But as a similar death follows, and Poe’s performance as a cadet and sleuth come into question, Landor tests the patience of Captain Hitchcock, the Commandant of Cadets. Hitchcock wants results and views Landor as hostile to a soldier’s life and too forgiving of Poe’s eccentricities. Most importantly, he concludes the investigation to be proceeding at a snail’s pace. And for a while it is.

There’s a certain elegance to how the story simmers and simmers in the mid-parts. The deaths remain at the forefront but move to the wings as we witness Landor and Poe’s bond grow stronger, first as kindred spirits, later as intimates – only in that formal mid-19th century American way, of course – where the pretense of the formal address of “Mr. Landor” and “Mr. Poe” are stripped away to the more familiar address of Landor and Poe. (In a humorous touch added by Bayard, Landor mentions this evolution in his narration, but outside of that mention, he always addresses Poe as “Mr. Poe” throughout the telling, even in the most private of drinking sessions.)

Once the plot does boil over, it does so wearing full Gothic regalia. The mystery opens up peculiar secrets and hard truths with family histories exposed that would have made the Bronte sisters proud. It’s a credit to Bayard’s plotting and writing style that such extravagances meld so well with the personal trajectories of Landor and Poe, both of whom are guarding secrets as well.

Poe works undercover and submits to Landor written reports that are at once informative missives about his findings as well as beautiful odes to whatever topic Poe is pondering (usually involving Miss Marquis, the young beauty he falls for) that includes over-the-top flourishes that only a young poet who doesn’t yet have the life experience to know what to write about would use. Bayard charmingly strikes the balance between the genius Poe will become and the young somewhat defensive eccentric he is at this time (at least by the U.S. Military Academy’s standards of behavior). Unlike some historical fiction that use a younger version of a notable figure, Bayard doesn’t use this as an opportunity to layout a template for Poe’s later acclaim (though Poe does write a poem with a character named “Leonore” and threatens a classmate in a manner not unlike Montresor in “The Cask of Amontillado”).

The Pale Blue Eye is the sort of historical fiction I like best. It doesn’t attempt to define a time with broad strokes or fill it up with empty foreshadowing of things to come. Rather, it uses character and human interaction to transport the reader to that time. From the bucolic descriptions of upstate New York to the reserved good manners at a dinner party, Bayard achieves in creating a wonderfully ripe world full of folly, cunning, obsession, and gallows humor. In other words, a world fit for the likes of Edgar Allan Poe.

MOVIE REVIEW: Tears of the Black Tiger

Tears of the Black Tiger, a Thai film made in 2001 and now only released in the U.S., is a studied compendium of genre. There’s melodrama on par with The Girl of the Golden West and Oklahoma; stoic gunslingers who would not be out of place in 1950’s B-movie Westerns; gun violence worthy of Sergio Leone and Sam Peckinpah; and stylized violence, like bullets going through teeth or removing a skull, that echoes the post-Tarantino world of nonchalant death. From the painted techni-color of the landscapes to the angled close-ups of six-shooters firing to the wonderfully anachronistic use of bazookas, machine guns, and even cars (is this 1880’s or 1930’s Thailand? It’s never clear, and in the end it doesn’t matter) Tears of the Black Tiger works even when the back-story doesn’t quite jibe with the overall plot.

There is, of course, star-crossed lovers and unrequited love: Dum, the son of a peasant, and Rumpoey, the daughter of a local official, first meet as children. Later, after an unfortunate childhood incident involving an oar fight while out on a row, they meet at college. A year later they still pine for each other, although, she is engaged to a young captain of the local police and he is a member of a notorious gang and is known as the Black Tiger. Of course, the police captain must hunt down the gang.

This all unfolds in settings rich with a full palette of blue and pink and golden hues. Rain also falls and lighting strikes at the appropriate moments where needed. The camera races in on Dum’s face to better collect his reaction to situations. Fai, the gang leader (played by Sombat Metanee, who must be Thailand’s version of Fred Ward) sows disharmony among his ranks by elevating Dum so quickly much to the chagrin Mahesuan who formerly enjoyed that privilege. The big battle scene between the police and the gang plays out like a cartoon. In fact, much of it is cartoonish: Mahesuan laughs with a deep villainous bellow and adorns his lip with a dastardly thin mustache and his body with garish cowboy attire.

All in all, Tears of the Black Tiger just doesn’t let up. It’s smart enough to know how to incorporate years and years of genre exercises without overplaying its hand and smart enough to also know how not to over-stylize it. It’s small when it needs to be as when it fleshes out the love story of Dum and Rumpoey. It’s over the top when it needs to be as when it intrudes on that story. Most importantly, despite the inconsistencies throughout, it’s simply grand fun to watch.

COMIC BOOK REVIEW: Shock SuspenStories

EC Comics collects the first 6 issues of Shock SuspenStories, originally published in 1952, as part of its EC Archives editions. Included with the stories are the editor’s columns and letters page as well as the ads that ran in the original editions. The influence of these stories can be seen in so many comics, movies, books and TV over the last 50 years.

Shock SuspenStories served as EC’s “sampler” comic. It contained horror, crime, science fiction, and war stories. In addition, they also included another category: the “shock” story. These tackled social issues from racial injustice in the southern United States to the Red Scare. I’m no comic historian, but these, to me, are eons ahead of their time than other 1950’s comics in the message of tolerance. Of course, to live up to the billing of being a “shock” story, many aspects are bluntly and crudely portrayed, but with only 7 or 8 pages to work with, I’m sure the reading audience didn’t mind the intrusion of a political viewpoint in their horror stories.

Even at it’s silliest – and there are some silly stories in here – there’s always at least one panel of artwork in each story that is just amazingly presented. The larger size of this hardback with glossy paper in full color really brings the artwork home. There’s even a short essay about the innovative lettering style some of the EC artists employed.

Many of the stories rely on the twist or surprise ending, many of which are telegraphed way ahead of time, mostly because in the last 50 years, this method has been copied many times over. Regardless, it’s always fun to get there. This collection is essential reading for any comic book fan.

D-Train

Late morning on the last day of the year. I jump on a Brooklyn bound D-train. I have a bad feeling in the back of my head concerning the amount of water I have drunk this morning. I have an hour-long trip on the subway I should have made sure to go to the bathroom before I left my apartment.

The train pulls into my stop just as I am walking down the stairs and onto the platform. Off to a good start. Not many people around either. It’s one of the trains that in the middle of the cars the seats are arranged three in a row against the wall with a set of two perpendicular to the aforementioned three. The set of two has another two connected behind them in tandem, which are again perpendicular to three and so on. I sit closest to the wall in one of the paired seats. I could have sat anywhere, as the car was fairly empty, but I felt like being in a corner where I can just immerse myself in the book, The Brooklyn Follies by Paul Auster that I am reading. Right when I sit down, I begin to question my judgment. The seat is terrible. There is hardly any legroom even with the train near empty. I glance around. I understand the purpose of mass transit but I now realize how completely utilitarian a subway car is. The only concern is carrying capacity and efficiency. I’d be surprised if comfort ever came up in the discussion. I feel contempt for the soulless engineer that designed it.

I make myself as comfortable as possible by stretching my legs to the side, placing my elbow over the top of the seat, and having my backpack on the seat next to me. I usually try to take up only one seat while riding the subway. I don’t worry about that now because I got on the train at the West 4th station, which can be busy, so if the car is empty now, it is not going to fill up. I begin reading, ignoring my bladder, and sure enough, within a few stops there is maybe three people in the entire car. I can now concentrate on my book rather than looking up every stop to see if I need to straighten up or move my backpack to the floor.

I continue reading and the train moves along making its regular stops. Suddenly my elbow is pushed off the top of the seat by another passenger’s back. Someone has just sat directly behind me. I look up from my book. There is no one else on this half of the train. Why in the world would someone sit right behind me? I am confounded. I turn around to get a look at this person. I don’t know if this is a universal feeling but whenever I am completely annoyed by a stranger I need to put a face to such annoyance. Whether it is talking loudly during a movie or bringing extra-large carry-on baggage onto an airplane I just need to see exactly what the offending person looks like. But this person is right behind me. I can’t make out specific features. I crane my neck to look and as I do I see their head turning as if they know I am trying to look at them. I don’t want to be rude about it but I am now determined to get a gander. Frustrated I look across the aisle, out of the far window, hoping the grimy tunnel wall passing by outside provides some insight. To my surprise, I realize that I could discern the features of this personal space intruder from the reflection in the glass as we travel through the darkness. I set a lingering gaze onto that window and become a subway peeping tom. I bypass rude and step squarely into creepy.

From the reflection I can tell that this passenger is a stocky, older woman of Eastern European or, perhaps, Russian descent. She wears an old, heavy wool coat and a kerchief wrapped around her head. She could have walked through Ellis Island eighty years ago dressed like that without raising eyebrows. None of this explains why she would sit where she did. Now, I could have gotten up and moved to another seat. But why should I have to move? A stubborn force deep inside me that I neither question nor contemplate makes me stay put. I try to make some sense of it. Maybe this was the first seat she spied upon entering the train, and used to rush hour traveling where seats can be a rare commodity, she just sat down. Now that she realizes the rest of the car is empty some stubborn force within her is holding her in that seat. We are the subway version of those Dr. Seuss characters – the North-Going Zax and South-Going Zax - steadfastly holding onto our seats, refusing to budge.

I try to concentrate on my book but to no avail. I am way to annoyed. In fact, I am doubly annoyed as I realize I really should have gone to the bathroom before I got on the subway. Every stop I look up from the same page and wonder if she will finally get off. I try to think of more reasons why she may have sat there. Perhaps, in her dotage, she feels vulnerable and sat close to me so I could act as her protector. I mull this over, almost coming to a point where I feel valuable, even proud that she would think so highly of me. I look again in the window, see her reflection, and realize the ridiculousness of this assertion. I assumed she is of Eastern European or Russian heritage due to her stout, earthy stature. She won’t need protection from me. If any interlopers did board the train, I imagine her reaching into the expansive handbag sitting on her lap under her folded arms, taking out a wooden rolling pin, brandishing it high over her kerchiefed head, yelling threats in a strange tongue, and chasing them away. On second thought, maybe I should be glad she sat near me.

I now notice she is sleeping. In the window, my seeing-glass to all that annoys me, I can see her head tilted forward, bobbing slightly up and down. My annoyance grows. She sits down, ruins my train ride and now has the temerity to sleep. I decide I need to make an extra effort to bury this annoyance and just read.

I am able to do so. Quite successfully. Pages turn and I become more engrossed in the story. A chapter ends as we roll into a station. I look up to see what stop it is and she’s gone. Sometime over the last few stops she exited the train without my noticing. I should be elated. I can now read unencumbered. But disappointment envelops me. I attempt to analyze this new feeling. Am I disappointed in myself? This whole time I never looked at her as a fellow human being. Her annoying me was the only reason I even noticed her. Have I become that type of city person who, walking around in a self-involved stupor, never acknowledges another's existence unless they cause affront?

These thoughts quickly dissipate as I pinpoint why I feel disappointed. I never got to recognize her leaving, as it happened. That’s why I’m disappointed. Her sneaking away didn’t allow me gloat about her not being around to annoy me anymore. Even in her absence she finds a way to annoy me. But, then again, maybe I’m annoyed because I really have to go to the bathroom now.

MOVIES: 2006 Overview

My list of best movies for 2006 consists of 3 truly great movies at the top, any of which could be considered my favorite, followed by a few other great films then topped off by a handful of near-greats that made strong showings. Not a bad year of movie viewing – and there’s plenty of films that have high recommendations that I haven’t yet watched. Many of these have been reviewed in full elsewhere on the blog. Some may have upped their impact on me since I wrote the original. Others may have lost some momentum. It also seems as if Nimero and I, with a bit of shuffling here and there, have a Top 5 that mirrors each other. I’m sure he wouldn’t argue with my preference, as I fully know where he’s coming from with his. Now, without further interruption, here’s the Top 10:

1. The Fountain: Beautiful in concept and execution, Darren Aronofsky tells a visually stunning and daringly complex story about love. Three stories each set about 500 years apart meld together to describe the life, death, loss and hope. Intelligent and never condescending or pretentious, The Fountain kept me thinking about its story long after I left the theatre. Smart and moving and poetic, it’s all I could hope for in a movie.
Full Review

2. Pan’s Labyrinth: Guillermo del Toro deftly balances the horrors of Spain during its civil war in 1944 and a child’s escapist fantasy. The magical realm a young girl finds herself in mirrors the devastation and fright of the real one, so that it’s difficult to tell at times which one is informing the other. By examining the choices (and the lack of choices) one must make in harrowing situations, and the bravery and loyalty –and innocence and the loss of innocence – involved in those choices, the result is a beautiful, sad and yet hopeful movie.

3. The Prestige: Multi-layered story of rival magicians and their obsessions – personally and professionally and the crossing of the line with each – expertly told with fine performances by Hugh Jackman and Christian Bale. Engagingly paced, with the right elements revealed at the right time like the best of all magic tricks. It’s no illusion that this is one of the year’s best.
Full Review

4. Children of Men: A dystopian nightmare of a story set 20 years in the future in London where immigrants are the enemy and the human race can no longer reproduce. By focusing on character instead of political statements, it makes more of a statement by keeping the story small and rich. It’s thrust forward and the momentum keeps it going to the end with great direction that doesn’t get in the way even after you dare take a breath. Michael Caine gives the best supporting role of the year as an aging radical living in the woods.
Nimero’s Review

5. 13 (Tzameti) : A taut movie in the great noir tradition of the everyman getting in over his head and walking the tightrope of consequences that follows. Gripping and intense, this simply stylized film never misses a beat. A young handyman follows the directions on a note taken from a client’s house, which leads to, well, go see it. I’m not going to spoil it. And don’t watch the trailer if you want to walk into it unawares like I did.
Full Review

6. The Departed: Martin Scorcese’s thriller about a mob informant in the police force and an undercover policeman in the mob is well conceived and tightly done. The set-up to the story unfolds in time, the plot speeds up, and after a slow build-up its denouement is brutally efficient. Initially, I found aspects of it lacking, but over time it settled in as a near-great cops and robbers flick.
Full Review

7. Babel: Interesting and compelling, Babel weaves in and out of three stories loosely hinged together by a single plot device. It covers the world: Morocco, Southern California and Mexico, and Japan. Beautiful and human, it holds itself together without being overwrought or collapsing in on the weight of itself. It’s a moving testament to the unknown connections that bind us all.
Full Review

8. The Proposition: A lawman makes a devil’s bargain with a captured member of a notorious gang: he can save his younger -also captured - brother by killing his other brother, who is the grizzly and amoral leader. A bleak look at justice and duty versus right and wrong. The lonely landscapes of an untamed Australia provide an effective and moody backdrop.

9. Brick: Dashiell Hammett and Raymond Chandler hard-boiled noir set in a contemporary high school comes off astonishingly well. Inserting knowing irony or winking at the audience could have easily sidetracked this idea. Instead it plays it straight as a murder mystery unravels and the school loner embarks as the Marlowe-like errant knight to find out hat happens. Smart as a crisp shirt.

10. Night Watch: A well-made, stylistic fantasy / Sci-Fi movie from Russia that is at once straightforward and simple yet full of texture and richly drawn characters. Light and Dark’s uneasy truce triggers the plot and effective use of sub-titles as special effects adds to the enjoyment. A terrific ride.
Full Review

Most Disappointing Movie of 2006

Beowulf & Grendel: Ever since I read Seamus Heaney’s gripping translation of this epic classic a few year’s back, I’ve been waiting for a big screen experience. I’ll have to wait for one of the other Beowulf projects because this Beowulf & Grendel is not it. Beowulf lacks heroic charisma. Grendel is humanized. Grendel’s mother is almost treated as a laughable afterthought. Sarah Polley, an actress who I have admired ever since The Adventures of Baron Munchausen, is terribly miscast as witch in cahoots with both Beowulf and Grendel! It’s not terrible. It’s not epic in any way either. It’s just blah.

MOVIES 2006

2006 was a solid year for movies. I saw a surprising amount of movies released this year (over 30) considering that I began graduate school. It was tough to find one stand-out among many great films, unlike last year where 2046 was an easy top choice. As it turns out, the last movie I have seen for 2006 is also my number one this year. All of the top five could probably be interchanged "as befits my mood or general countenance." I'll be interested to revisit this list next year and see how I feel about my rankings.

The comic book movies I usually enjoy were all disappointments (V For Vendetta, X-Men: Last Stand, and Superman Returns.) I also thought I saw more documentaries than I did (An Inconvenient Truth and American Hardcore), but that must have been 2005 where I was doc heavy. Time blurs all. And there are many well reviewed movies that I have yet to see (Letters from Iwo Jima, United 93, Little Children among others.)

Below is my Top 10 list followed by five honorable mentions. I've also added what I consider to be, by far, the two worst movies I have seen this year.

2006 TOP 10 (order of preference)

Pan's Labyrinth
A young girl, Ofelia (Ivana Baquero), is brought along to a military outpost in 1944 Spain to be near her pregnant mother's new husband, who is a Captain in Franco's army. With civil war raging around her, Ofelia enters a fantasy world to escape this new reality. A deeply moving film, perfectly paced and layered. It says so much about childhood and adulthood and the coping mechanisms used to safely travel through both. Director Guillermo del Toro expertly and seamlessly mixes the fantasy world with the real world resulting in the best movie of 2006.

The Fountain
As an unabashed fan of Darren Aronofsky I may admire The Fountain more than I should. Rachel Weisz and Hugh Jackman are two lovers who through the ages – in Year 1500, 2000, and 2500 – search for eternal life. The film easily intertwines all three time periods, each individual story arc concluding and adding to that quest. It will keep you thinking about it long after you see it. I don’t have it completely figured out yet. But that’s why I like it so much.
Colbinski's Review

Children of Men
A dystopian world twenty years in the future is the setting for Alfonso Cuaron's excellent new film Children of Men. Women have become infertile, a police state rules by fear, and the youngest person on Earth, just over eighteen years old was just murdered. A government worker (Clive Owen) is thrown into the middle of an "uprising" against this world. Spectacular camera work, a where-is-this-headed story, and wonderful performances makes this one f the best of the year.
Full Review

Three Times
This film disappointed me directly after viewing. It was the first film I have seen by acclaimed filmmaker Hou Hsiao-hsien. I had heady expectations going in, knowing only the premise of three separate stories told in three different time periods with the main characters of each story played by the same actor and actress (Chang Chen and Shu Qi). Each story deals with love and observes the circumstances and obligations that make love either possible or non-existent. The first story “A Time for Love” set in the 1960’s, is perhaps the most perfect love story I have ever seen put on film. Everything about it is enchanting. Following this opening story, the next two, “A Time for Freedom” and “A Time for Youth”, while above average, felt like a letdown. It is only in subsequently dwelling upon the film as whole that I have come to appreciate all the stories. The film looks beautiful and the leads make each of their three characters their own. Even if the other two stories were a mess (which they are not) I would recommend this film on the strength of “A Time for Love” alone.

The Prestige
Two rival magicians face off in a great film filled with wonderful performances. Christian Bale and Hugh Jackman excel in the leads. Magic and intrigue drive the film forward. A story of showmanship and human drive that continues to surprise all the way to the final scene.
Colbinski's Review

13 (Tzameti)
A taut thriller about an Eastern European immigrant who, while looking to make some extra (and easy) money, gets in over his head. A gripping well-done film. I was aware of a huge spoiler before seeing this movie and it was no less gripping but it is best to see it knowing as little as possible.
Colbinski's Review

L’Enfant (The Child)
A two-bit crook sells his and his girlfriend’s newborn child to make some extra cash and thus begins a searing drama of bad choices and their consequences. Unlike most Hollywood movies that attempt to manipulate and moralize to the viewer this film from Belgium focuses an objective lens on all its subjects. It is a different sort of experience and at times seemed disconcerting to this American filmgoer. This straightforwardness in storytelling is rewarding in and of itself and not because of the machinations of the filmmakers.

Babel
Another tale of intertwining stories and fateful coincidences, Babel has much more to offer than the simple resolutions and treacle platitudes of Crash, last year’s winner of the Best Picture Oscar, to which it has been compared. Babel has a large international scope and the story divides time between the U.S., Mexico, Morocco, and Japan. Babel doesn’t try to hit you over the head with its message, if there is even a larger message than the human one told in each segment. All the stories have their positives and it is telling that the most interesting story, occurring in Japan, is the least related to all the others.
Colbiski's Review

The Illusionist
It’s turn of the century Vienna and an Illusionist (Edward Norton) enters the city to ply his trade entertaining the masses and gaining notice from the Crown Prince (Rufus Sewell), the Prince’s finance (Jessica Biel), and the local Chief Inspector (Paul Giamatti). Filmed is dashing sepia tones, this film overcomes the tired tropes of class war love triangles and provides a satisfying intelligent story.
Full Review

Little Miss Sunshine
The only movie that can be described as a comedy on this list, Little Miss Sunshine, is a delightful, if familiar, story of a dysfunctional family on a road trip. As things usually go in these movies, momentous events occur and the family gets to know each other and themselves a tad bit better. While not as predictable as you may expect from that description it doesn’t hold huge surprises either. It’s a movie that knows what it is and ends up doing that well.


2006 WORTH A MENTION (alphabetical order)

Brick
You can be forgiven if you think of Bugsy Malone upon hearing that Brick is a film noir set in high school. But Brick is no farce and takes it’s characters seriously and cleverly twists the conventions of film noir to fit teenagers’ angst. Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Lukas Haas stand out in this fine film.

The Death of Mr. Lazarescu
As in L’Enfant, the camera in The Death of Mr. Lazarescu is almost documentary like in its followings of its subjects’ story. Mr. Lazarescu, an old drunk living by himself in Bucharest grows ill and needs medical attention. Apparently, this movie is a bitter indictment of the Romanian health care system. Be thast as it may, when focused on the smaller issues we are left with a sad story of a life forgotten or ignored by the strangers a man meets in his last few hours and by those who should have been close to him for the rest of it.

The Departed
Adapted from the Hong Kong film Infernal Affairs, Martin Scorsese places this police thriller in Boston. An undercover agent (Leonardo DiCaprio) infilitrates the mob as a policeman (Matt Damon) loyal to the mob boss (Jack Nicholson) rises through the ranks of law enforcement. Although the movie seems to lose steam around three-quarters in and then ends abruptly just as the steam seemed to be coming back there are fine performances all around.
Colbinski's Review

Night Watch
A densely packed film concerning an age-old battle between the forces of Light and Dark. Light has formed the Night Watch to protect against the Dark. All this takes place in modern day Russia. A hyper frenetic movie highly stylized yet still intelligent.
Colbinski's Review

The Science of Sleep
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, directed by Michel Gondry was my #1 movie for 2004. The Science of Sleep, written and directed by Michel Gondry has the similar themes of a quirky love story where most of the main action occurs inside one the character’s head. It is decidedly offbeat and Gael Garcia Bernal fulfills all the potential he showed in Y Tu Mama Tambien. This film is well above average but lacks the cohesion to be truly great.

WORST MOVIES 2006

The Break-up
A terrible mish-mash of a movie. Too long, too uneven and despite its promotion as a “star vehicle” for Vince Vaughn and Jennifer Aniston, these “stars” are mediocre in their performances. Like any bad relationship, you’ll be glad when this movie ends.

Hard Candy
A young girl turns the tables on a would-be internet child molester and possible murderer. She’s a modern day Little Red Riding Hood (even wearing an oversized red sweatshirt) who doesn’t need the woodsman to come save her. At turns this movie is ugly, clichéd, and utterly ridiculous.

MOVIE REVIEW: Perfume: The Story of a Murderer

It is appropriate that the opening scene of Perfume: The Story of a Murderer frames a figure in silhouette and as he leans into the light only his nose is illuminated. Based on a novel by Patrick Suskind, here is a story of olfactory senses leading a man to...well, take a look at the title of this film for a hint.

Directd by Tom Tykwer, Perfume: The Story of a Murderer, has some good ideas and execution but the overall story falls flat. Ever since the frenetic Run Lola Run, Tykwer has slowed his movies down while encompassing a longer run time all in an attempt to make "meaningful movies". He succeeded splendidly in The Princess and The Warrior, worked the concept to respectable results in Heaven but now has failed with Perfume. Perhaps Tykwer needs to collabarate again with Franka Potente, the star of Run Lola Run and The Princess and The Warrior. to return him to his old form.

The opening scenes of a baby, with a preternatural sense of smell, born in an 18th century Parisian fish market, with the camera flashing around to everything and anything that may emit an odor shows promise. I enjoyed the leisurely pace showing this child, Jean-Baptiste Grenouille (Ben Wishaw) grow to appreciate his ungodly sense of smell through the orphanage and into an apprenticeship at a tannery. It is when Grenouille is taken under the wing of a perfumer, Baldini, played by a wildly out-of-place Dustin Hoffman, does the movie begin to flag. It is also here where we see where this is all going. As Grenouille explains to Baldini after an unfortunate meeting with a girl in an alley, he needs to "capture scent". This quest becomes the essence of the movie and you are either along for the ride or not. I anticipated the ride and eagerly followed along to the perfume capital of France, the city of Grasse, and Grenouille's obsession with Grasse's female's scents. But then the ride ended.

The ending, in its ridiculousness, betrays the seriousness the movie takes pains to otherwise portray. Unless the whole thing is to be taken as farce. But then the "meaning" of the ending is rendered meaningless. So its a no-win situation regardless of what viewpoint one holds. Upon reflection there is also much unfulfilled promise throughout. No explanation for the unfortunate circumstances people find themselves in after Grenouille leaves them. No investigation of what its like to be overwhelmed by all the smells in the world. It's as if Grenouille can control, at will, what odors enters his nostrils.

While the movie does not go to any lengths to have us empathize with a murderer, empathy does hover around the edges. We know the quest and have witnessed all that has led up to it. I even found myself secretly rooting for a murder that would result in the quest's completion. It is only with seeing what is done with the results that a quest can be considered successful. It's seeing these results on the screen where the disappointment sets in.

MOVIE REVIEW: Children of Men

Set in 2027 Britain, the world of Children of Men is an exaggerated version of the worst of what is witnessed today. A police state governed by fear, a war on illegal aliens, and propaganda disseminated 24 hours a day may seem distant but not at all unlikely. All this is precipitated by the inexplicable infertility of women almost twenty years prior. That we are never told why women stopped having babies or how that resulted in such a dystopia is one of this film's primary strengths. The people inhabiting this future don't understand it either; we are with them in solidarity, viewing their desperation as our own.

We begin watching Theo (Clive Owen) go through the motions of his day. Purchasing coffee, pouring liquor into the cup. Not even the death of the youngest person on Earth, at just over eighteen years old, or the bombing of the cafe he just left seem to touch him. Theo is presented as a disaffected, uncaring man able to see the world around him for what it is but eerily detached from it all the same. Even after we learn about his political activism past, the reasons for his detachment, and he is placed in a position to help usher in a possible new future, Theo still presents a knowing resignation.

Theo is kidnapped by the Fishes, a rebel group readying for an uprising against the government. Theo’s ex-wife (Julianne Moore) is their leader and brings Theo aboard because she “trusts him”. The Fishes have in their ranks Kee (Clare-Hope Ashitey), the first pregnant women in almost twenty years, and hope Theo can help bring her across borders to the Human Project, supposedly a group of scientists building a better tomorrow. At this point an already interesting premise takes a new life. The film is not predictable but never delivers unbelievable twists. Everything about it seems just so.

All the performances in this film are top notch. Clive Owen, in particular, stands out and solidifies himself as one of the best actors out there today. Alfonso Cuaron does the best directing job of the year. Using tracking shots and a hand-held camera, the viewer is immersed into the story along with the characters. The violence and action is sudden and jarring, the actors on the screen reacting as we do in our seats. The climax is relentless in its focus and the brief intermission of quiet that occurs is made that much more potent due to the subsequent explosions of fury.

Yet I would not describe it as an action movie. Nor would I pigeonhole it as a science fiction movie. Plain and simply, it is an intelligent movie. It makes you question the world you see around you everyday and forces you to answer uneasily, "Can that really happen?" It is a realistic movie set in the future with easily recognizable characters. There are no simple solutions or cures. Theo is thrust down a road of doubt but keeps moving. Theo never picks up a gun, never decides to fight the "bad guys". Circumstances control him. He is in a situation where the opportunity to do good, to do something right presents itself. And he tries. That's just the type of hero his and our world needs.

Quixote

I once knew a girl with whom I often spoke to about stories. We discussed film, books, and short stories mainly but eventually delved into everything. Comic books, television, or plays: nothing was out of reach for conversation and opinion. We shared our likes and dislikes and made recommendations to each other. After recommending a favorite author never read or a film unseen, we both waited anxiously for the other to finish reading or viewing so we could talk about it. I’m sure our conversations had the naiveté of an undergrad literature class or, worse, the pretension of an MFA thesis paper. But we didn’t care.

One day, I was in this girl’s apartment looking over her book collection, which was contained within a medium sized bookcase in an otherwise spartan bedroom. I was sitting on the floor with my legs crossed Indian-style poking around the shelves and yelling comments and questions into the other room where she was occupied. Eventually she came in and sat on the floor leaving me between her and the bookcase. While discussing what she enjoyed and asking if I could borrow this or that I began talking about some recent books I had read. I just went through a phase where I was reading classics such as The Count of Monte Cristo and Ivanhoe and I was prone to bore people with how great they are. Sensing I wasn’t going to stop prattling on about the superior storytelling prowess of Dumas and Scott any time soon, she hurriedly pointed out a classic she had on the bottom shelf.

I don’t know how I hadn’t noticed this oversized book. It was an all-together impressive, splendid tome. She explained that it was Don Quixote by Cervantes. It really was a piece of work. For all I knew monks in Spain hand-printed this copy. Not since my days as an altar boy have I held something so ornate.

As I lifted it out of its shelf I sensed from her a reluctant excitement in sharing this book with me. While I was busy admiring the handiwork of the binding and gold edged pages she quietly explained how she had always wanted a book like this and mentioned painted illustrations on the pages. I took some time exploring the outside of the book, turning it over in my hands. I felt the aged brown leather, which covered it in entirety, the exquisitely raised gold bands along the spine and gold old-style lettering indicating title and author on the front. It was compellingly beautiful. I could only wonder what the actual pages and illustrations must look like. Just as I was about to crack it open I looked up at her and caught her eyes.

She had the most expressive chestnut brown eyes. They sparkled like stars, lighting up her surroundings, especially when she smiled. And she often smiled. There was no smile or sparkle then. Her downturned mouth elongated her face disconsolately and her eyes reflected a distant sadness. I paused. She told me not to open the book. I looked back at her puzzled. She provided a defense of her “don’t open the book” policy of which the particulars escape me. I do remember it involved a childhood fondness of a Don Quixote cartoon, some family troubles, receiving this book as a surprise gift from her mother and not having read it yet. By the time she was finished it was no longer an explanation but a plea. I looked again in her eyes and was reminded of a grainy photograph of a seldom-used dirt road after a rainstorm.

I suppressed any further comment on the matter. I thought of asking a question or two about this mandate when I realized I would never understand the meaning of this to her. I let the weight of the book sink into my lap. I wondered how much this book weighed to her. I glided my fingers over the spine readying to fill the empty space it had left behind on the shelf. Even though I was seated closer to the bookshelf, as I lifted the book, I found myself handing it over to her. It was her burden, after all.

COMIC BOOK REVIEW: Superman: Red Son (DC Comics)

DC Comics’ Elseworlds line is described as thus: “In Elseworlds, heroes are taken from their usual settings and put into strange times and places – some that have existed and others that can’t, couldn’t, or shouldn’t exist. The result is stories that make characters who are as familiar as yesterday seem as fresh as tomorrow.” Just as in Marvel Comics’ What If…? series, this premise allows writers to weave stories that may not fit the hero as we know them and not to worry about the regular continuity of the respective comics universes. This premise can provide hits or misses. Superman: Red Son is most definitely a hit.

Originally published as a three issue mini-series in 2003, and now available as a trade paperback, writer Mark Millar, pencillers Dave Johnson and Killian Plunkett, and inkers Andrew Robinson and Walden Wong do a more than admirable job of re-imagining the Superman myth. Superman, that iconic symbol of truth, justice, and the American way is now a Communist. In the mid-twentieth century, a rocket ship from an alien planet crashes onto a collective farm in the Ukraine rather than the Kent’s farm in Kansas. Interestingly enough, the values he learned on that collective farm do not seem that far removed from the values he learned from Ma and Pa Kent.

The story begins with Superman making his presence known in Moscow as an adult. Stalin sends a communiqué to the rest of the world: “Let Our Enemies Beware: There Is Only One Superpower Now.” As true as this appears readers familiar with the Superman saga know that Lex Luthor is still an American. Nonetheless, President Eisenhower still laments about how if that rocket only crashed into Earth twelve hours earlier Superman might be an American.

Along with Lex Luthor the rest of Superman’s friends, enemies, and fellow heroes make appearances. There’s Lois Lane, Lana Lang, Jimmy Olsen, and Perry White. Superman’s rogues’ gallery is still Lex, Braniac and Bizarro. Working from the concept that Superman was the lynchpin for all other DC Superheroes, the story introduces us to other well-known faces in unexpected ways. Batman is around, in a post-Dark Knight Returns incarnation, that plays foil to Superman’s new socialist values, and we learn what kind of heroes Wonder Woman, Green Arrow, The Flash, and Green Lantern have become now that Superman is a Soviet hero.

An insider’s knowledge of the DC Universe can add to the overall cleverness of this set-up but even knowing the Superman myth in only broad strokes will not endanger enjoyment of the story. From the hammer and sickle replacing the S on Superman’s chest to President Kennedy, now married to Norma Jean, and dealing with civil strife and a triumphant USSR, to a play on Superman’s disguise of wearing glasses, there is much to be found different yet familiar. There’s even a reference concerning exactly these types of re-imagined stories. The greatest strengths of Superman: Red Son is that it changes the Superman myth without changing Superman himself and it has an ending that sheds new light on that myth.

MOVIE REVIEW: The Fountain

Late in Darren Aronofsky’s The Fountain the entire scope of the film accomplishes some amazing things: it successfully maps together the 3 overlaying stories of the film – a conquistador’s quest for the Tree of Life at the request of Queen Isabel; a doctor’s quest to save his wife from brain cancer in the contemporary United States; and a lone space traveler’s quest to reach a faraway star – while at the same time transcending – and confusing - any concept of a linear connection between those three arcs. (I would go into more depth about my theories of the linear connection, but that would betray Colbinski Chronicles’ unwritten “no spoiler” policy that all reviews strictly adhere to.)

This scene, and the subsequent scenes intermixing back and forth from the past and modern day and futuristic stories, introduces many more questions than it answers, but at the same time brings coherence to all the storylines. It is precisely because of this coherence that the underlying mystery – that of love and death and hope and loss- resonates so acutely. In the end, there’s clarity in what hasn’t been told. There’s no moment that safely packs all the themes into a neat box, but if there had been, I’m sure I would have felt slighted. I’m glad to leave the theater with head-scratching questions about what it all means than to be treated to treacle full of hoary clichés.

And it is in this that the beauty of The Fountain is found. (Well, that’s not true, the real beauty is found in the palette of Aronofsky’s direction and film photography. The Fountain is visually stunning – from Rachel Weisz’s illuminating Queen Isabel shrouded in white by candles to Hugh Jackman’s bald and Zen-like spaceman floating through a kaleidoscope of vibrant oranges and yellows traveling in a bubble accompanied by a tree lush with green life. Not to mention the hauntingly exquisite score by Clint Mansell and Mogwai. But I digress.)

The way The Fountain eschews many norms of storytelling is telling. Essentially, the movie is about a man who will do anything to save his wife from dying. Add to it a pseudo time-travel angle, and a Conquistador in Central America plot, and one may get the idea that the film is either science fiction claptrap or inane action flick or indulgent melodrama. The Fountain avoids the trappings of all those limitations by not involving them in the framework. That is, the possible time-travel, if that’s really what’s going on, is never explained (I have a theory on this too - but that brings us back to the “no spoiler” policy) and this in-effect cancels out any melodrama. By not knowing the linear connection from the past to the present to the future, but by giving such full attention and detail to the specific capsule of time we spend with the Conquistador, the doctor and his wife, and the man in the bubble, Aronofsky delivers a thought provoking and triumphant film that tells its story in a real and true way that is only aided by a quest for the Tree of Life or space travel.

Something I noticed about Aronofsky’s films – this includes Pi and Requiem for a Dream, as well as for The Fountain – is the absence of humor. That’s not to say that his movies are humorless because they are not. Instead, he doesn’t use laugh lines as a crutch. His characters are real – they cope, they smile, they anguish, they love, they live, they die. There’s a truth to The Fountain that overrides the snobbish dismissals I’ve read. Sure I haven’t wrapped my head around all that transpires in the movie, but I know damn well that what is up on the screen is true.

MUSIC REVIEW: Cobra Noir “Barricades” & Pulling Teeth “Vicious Skin”

There are times while listening to various modern metal and hardcore bands that one can tell right from the opening notes where the band’s history of music begins. In the first seconds of the opening songs on Chainsaw Safety Records’s latest releases, Cobra Noir’s “Barricades” and Pulling Teeth’s “Vicious Skin,” one gets the feeling that these bands spent their teen years dulling their record player needle listening to the likes of Celtic Frost and Slayer and Motorhead. That is not to say that either of these bands sounds likes the aforementioned bands. They don’t. Simply put, Cobra Noir and Pulling Teeth are informed by these (and many other) bands. They know what they are doing in the heavy genre. And they do it well.

Montreal’s Cobra Noir play a more 80’s metal sound – a mid-paced metal. The songs possess dazzling tempo changes and not a few classic slow downs. The gruff vocals consist of the right mix of anger and urgency. The songs are complex without sounding too showy or, worse yet, like they have too many ideas poorly executed. These tracks are executed with precision and power.

Baltimore’s Pulling Teeth rely on a more modern influence for their heaviness. The sonic power and the morass of guitar sounds has some paternity to “Humanity is the Devil” era Integrity. The songs are also shorter than is usually found in the crowded field of current metal-core, and so never get boring or run out of steam. They charge forward like warriors on a battlefield, sweating and bleeding, assured of victory in some ancient rite.

All of the of bands that Chainsaw Safety has been releasing recently also fall into the category of being informed by music that isn’t necessarily reflected in the band’s sound. I also know that the proprietor of Chainsaw Safety Records is one of those people whose early musical experience was influenced by the same list above. Also, for full disclosure, I used to be the co-owner of Chainsaw Safety. My final involvement with the label was The Horror 10”. Scanning the impressive assortment of bands he’s put out since – Celebrity Murders, End of the Universe, Deathcycle, Sick of Talk, and now Cobra Noir and Pulling Teeth, well, it makes me feel like I was holding good old Will Tarrant back.

But I’m still waiting for him to release a Baby Harp Seal discography.