The day job’s on the beat: Wizard interviews stars Rosario Dawson and Naveen Andrews. I like Andrews more and more with each interview of his I read:
Well, Quentin [Tarantino] and Robert are beloved in England. I remember after
The day job’s on the beat: Wizard interviews stars Rosario Dawson and Naveen Andrews. I like Andrews more and more with each interview of his I read:
Well, Quentin [Tarantino] and Robert are beloved in England. I remember after
Eli Roth’s Thanksgiving trailer from Grindhouse is pretty agoddamnedmazing.
It’s so gleefully, joyously violent and sleazy and exploitative and poorly made that I’ve been in awe ever since I saw first saw it. Maybe it’s that announcer voice: “WHITE MEAT. DARK MEAT. ALL WILL BE CARVED.” It’s enough to make me reconsider my (ill-informed, but no less passionate for that) anti-Roth stance. And (the ostensible goal, of course) it’s also overcome my From Dusk Till Dawn-diminished expectations of Grindhouse.
In related news, Rose McGowan and Rosario Dawson are sexy and Rolling Stone is awful.
(Via Cinematical.)
A 300 poster for sale in Hot Topic, featuring a picture of Queen Gorgo and the words “YOU WILL NOT ENJOY THIS!” So the line used during both her rape and the murder, by her, of her rapist, is an advertising slogan. Go figure!
–from “Quint spends his final day on the set of STEPHEN KING’S THE MIST watching spiders run amuck!!”, Ain’t It Cool News.
So far, so good.
There were two things I really enjoyed about my viewing of the Korean monster movie The Host on Saturday at the Landmark Sunshine on East Houston Street:
1) That magnificent shot toward the beginning of the film, just after the monster has leapt out of the river, where he slowly rampages his way from the background of the shot to the foreground as our oblivious protagonist stares off the left of the screen. This is a shot that’s been in my head for years and years as the coolest possible rampaging-monster shot possible, and seeing it was an absolute joy, even if it’s a publish-or-perish situation for yours truly.
2) Lou Reed was there too. He looked shorter and older and more fashionable and wealthier than I imagined him, but mostly it was cool that Lou likes to go to monster movies on a Saturday afternoon.
And that was about it.
The Host suffers from a vast, er, host of problems that interfere with its supposed effectiveness as a top-drawer monster movie. For starters, there’s the monster itself, which is goofy-looking and not scary at all to behold. The visual effects used to bring it to life are excellent, and held up well to director Joon-ho Bong’s decision to keep the thing well lit and in our face rather than hiding in the water or the shadows. But that doesn’t compensate for a design that’s silly rather than scary and calls for the creature to move in ways that make no physical sense given its size and primary method of movement. (Why would a giant river monster flip around bridges like a trapeze artist, anyway?)
Then there’s the fact that the film, to me at least, was quite frankly boring. Its profligate use of slow motion made even 300‘s look judicious, and nearly every shot and sequence involving the put-upon dysfunctional family at the film’s heart lasted twice as long as it needed to. Thematically the film was very similar to the parental trauma of last year’s Great Monster-Movie Hope, The Descent. Unlike Neil Marshall, Bong seemed to believe that showy bloat would better convey this than no-frills relentlessness, a mistake that sinks the film.
Interestingly, the tonal inconsistency didn’t bother me–to a point. One of my all-time favorite movie-watching experiences was viewing Arthur Penn’s all-over-the-map Little Big Man while cataclysmically stoned, so I’m open to radical shifts in mood and even genre within the confines of one film. (I am a big fan of Kill Bill, after all.) It helped that for the most part, the funny stuff here–Gang-du’s Kafka/Brazil-esque attempts to get someone, anyone to listen to him; that hilarious shot where he breaks out of that medical trailer and shocks a parking-lot full of American soldiers away from their barbeques–was actually pretty funny. But where it did bother me–indeed, where it pretty much lost me for the rest of the movie–was when it played the ostentatious grief of the family over the death (“death”) of their little girl for laughs. Killing a child, especially one with whom we’ve spent time and for whom grown to share an affinity, is extremely dangerous ground for any movie; this goes double for horror, a genre that essentially presupposes that the audience, on some level at least, enjoys watching people get killed, and therefore has its work cut out for it if it’s going to depict the killing of a child, the least enjoyable killing possible. At first I was impressed by just how raw and unfiltered that scene in the crisis center was getting with its sobbing, screaming, inconsolable, mind-shattering grief–so imagine my dismay and disgust as it devolved into slapstick. Call me crazy, but I don’t think the death of a little girl is funny. And unkilling her later in the film doesn’t get you off the hook–especially if you’re going to re-kill her during the climax and want that to be the emotional lynchpin of the film.
I’ve written about enough movies I don’t like to realize that I tend to give them the business for plot holes and logical flaws to which, were they to appear in a movie I did like, I wouldn’t give a second thought. There were plenty of them here–the fact that the monster was able to grow to enormous size without ever having appeared at the surface and devoured countless human beings before this particular day; the fact that the filmmakers couldn’t seem to decide what, if any, effects “Agent Yellow” actually had on anything other than the monster; Gang-du’s ability to recover from some sort of trepanation and escape from a heavily guarded military installation filled with armed soldiers who honestly believed him to be the carrier of a deadly contagion–but none of them, obviously, were deal-breakers in and of themselves. The bizarrely bad fire effects at during the climax might have been deal-breakers considering the pivotal moments they mar, but again, I could probably look the other way if the rest of the movie demanded it. But its distasteful mockery of grief, lugubrious pacing, and fundamentally unfrightening creature left me in less than a charitable mood. Indeed, if it weren’t for mainstream critics’ erroneous belief that adding some melodramatic pathos and unsubtle (though funny) political allegory to a genre picture makes it A Great Film, I very much doubt whether we’d even be talking about it. As it stands, I’ll remember it as kind of like a Jaws remake that replaced Robert Shaw with tedium.
I hope Lou liked it, though.
Here’s cool news I helped break in the latest issue of Wizard, now on the website: Goonies director Richard Donner and his one-time-assistant, current-comics-big-shot Geoff Johns will be creating a sequel, Goonies: The Search for Sloth, as a comics miniseries. Booby traps!
This week’s Horror Roundtable asks its participants to name undiscovered horror classics that deserve wider release. My suggestions bridges two of my all-time favorite things…
If you’d like to know what I thought of this week’s issues of Daredevil, Green Lantern, Guy Ritchie’s The Gamekeeper, Action Comics, Batman, Superman Confidential, and Ultimate Spider-Man, then Thusrday Morning Quarterback is the place for you!
Behold! my massive interview with Battlestar Galactica co-executive producer and writer of the Season Three finale, Mark Verheiden, over at Wizard. It was a struggle to pull out a sample quote that isn’t loaded with spoilers, but I think this does the trick:
I was wondering if you went into it sighing, wondering how you
Over at Wizard, my pal Kiel Phegley has conducted a massive, informative, surprisingly candid interview with Jack Bender, executive producer and lead director of Lost.
With so much emphasis on the plotlines and characters and mysteries and other writerly aspects of the show, the fact that it’s the best-looking network television program since Twin Peaks almost always gets overlooked, and pretty much no one on the show has more of a role in that visual look than Bender. Sample quote:
So what we did is that we saved all the camera moves and all the moving shots and handheld and longer lenses and all of that stuff for the island story, and we made the flashbacks closer angles, wider lenses so that all of the background would be in focus.
I never even noticed that, for crying out loud.
Passengers who resisted the smugglers were stabbed or beaten with wooden and steel clubs, then thrown overboard where some were attacked by sharks, the agency said it learned from survivors.
“Several recovered bodies showed signs of severe mutilation,” UNHCR said.
“Battlestar Galactica” is a bit like “Lost” in that it’s what’s called a highly serialized drama, with a long continuing plotline. If someone misses a few episodes, they may stop watching entirely, thinking they’ll never be able to catch up. At the same time, once you get past the first season, new viewers can be put off by how much they don’t know about what’s going on. So you can lose the viewers you already have much more easily than you can acquire new ones, and both shows have suffered dips in their ratings. Yet this also seems to be one of the most fertile and exciting formats in the medium. How do you deal with those challenges?
I don’t. It’s a genuine problem I have no solution for. We have long conversations with the network about the extent of the serialized nature of the show. It’s certainly not something they’re in love with. We the writers are always pushing to make it more serialized because it makes for better storytelling. We’ve done a few stand-alone episodes here and there, and they’re almost never very successful for our particular series. They’re not what the audience tunes in for. But the network’s legitimate concern is just what you were saying: The audience tends to attenuate over time. It’s hard to bring new people on board. There’s the hurdle of them having to catch up on all the old episodes, and any hurdle you put in front of the audience is just a bad thing. I don’t know what to say. This is the kind of show I like to do, and we’re just going to keep doing it. Hopefully, we can persuade people to buy the DVDs and catch up at home and keep watching the show, but the show is what it is.
The availability of DVD sets seems to have made it more possible to do this kind of series.
I think it has. It’s really changed the landscape. People are much more comfortable getting on to shows like this because they can pick up a boxed set and catch up.
–Ronald D. Moore, quoted in “The Man Behind ‘Battlestar Galactica,'” Laura Miller, Salon
I latched right on to this portion of the interview because it confirmed something I postulated two years ago:
I wonder if new technologies like TiVo and DVDs aren’t also playing a major role in how narrative fiction is developing on the tube, insofar as they’re making complex series economically feasible in ways they didn’t used to be. Back in 1990, a show like Twin Peaks could make a huge splash, but if it demanded too much week-in week-out attention from its viewership, network pressure to make the show accessible (in Peaks’s case by revealing whodunit) would quickly kill what was special in the show, if not kill the show outright. Nowadays viewers, and more importantly executives and producers, know that it’s easy enough to “catch up” by hitting a few buttons on your DVR or renting the first season through Netflix. Perhaps we can expect the complexity of televised fiction, even on the benighted networks, to expand accordingly.
A nice, easy-to-navigate gallery of those America’s Next Top Model death photos I mentioned earlier can be found here.
(via Andrew Sullivan, who wants us to be outraged. But doesn’t he always, as long as it’s not South Park?)
For example, a clear sign of progress in Western society is that one does not need to argue against rape: it is
I have a phobia about skin growths, so this video by Grizzly Bear for their song “Knife” pretty much paralyzed me. But it’s eerie enough that I think you’ll find it scary, too.
I watch Tyra Banks’s America’s Next Top Model, but only for the photo shoots in which they’re all made up to look like the victims of brutal murders. Yeah, that’s the ticket.
More here. The relevant photos are #5 in any given model’s gallery.
UPDATE: An easier-to-navigate gallery of the pics can be found here.
This week’s Horror Roundtable asks its participants about their favorite horror-related song. Mine is, I think, an unusual choice, but an appropriate one.
The other day, partially in response to a post by Jon Hastings on The Host and Land of the Dead, I brought up the way that mainstream film critics will latch onto political allegory (real or perceived) in horror films, frequently to the exclusion of other, more interesting aspects of those films.
Blogger Bruce Baugh wrote to me in response:
I have a theory that the critics’ urge to find political allegory in Romero’s movies in particular is their way of staving off dealing with what always seemed to me the obvious point in his work: nihilism. It’s much easier to say “yeah, those guys over there suck” than it is to think “but maybe none of my good intentions or noble efforts matter one bit, either.” It’s not that Romero makes no distinctions between good people and bad, it’s just that he goes on to say that it doesn’t matter in the end whether you were good or bad: it won’t affect your chances of survival when things come munching. And even though I don’t think that’s the moral truth of the universe, it’s for sure an _emotional_ truth of part of our experience, if we acknowledge it rather than hide it.
As something of nihilist myself, at least in my approach to horror, that makes a lot of sense to me. Now, to be fair to the folks who come at Romero looking for the purely political message, I do think it’s there, not least because interviews I’ve read from Romero himself seem to back it up. But it seems reductive to take the complexity of, say, the shifting nature of who’s right and wrong in Night of the Living Dead and boil it down to a campaign commercial. Nihilism works a lot better as an explanation. And it is truer.
Bruce continues:
Hmm. In its way, the Romero-verse illustrates one of the classic existentialist points Camus was on about: whatever you’re trying to hold onto won’t last. You’re stuck. You have to start something new. I wonder what a zombie story would be like if I had a community of survivors who accepted that philosophical/religious despair and then went on to try to do something meaningful in the next context. Damn, like I don’t already have enough on my plate….
Robert Kirkman and Charlie Adlard’s ongoing zombie comic The Walking Dead looked, for one brief shining moment, like it was headed in that direction, but that was a year or so ago now and that hasn’t happened and doesn’t look like it will happen. DIY, Bruce!
Meanwhile, Jon Hastings himself wrote in regarding the other half of that post of mine, my surprise at the rape scene in 300:
As for the rape scene in 300, what I thought was interesting is that it wasn’t presented as something for a guy to avenge or get angsty about (a la Identity Crisis) but as the Queen making a sacrifice for the good of Sparta (just like her hubby and his men!). Still very “problematic”, of course, but I’m not sure that I’ve seen a movie that’s taken that particular POV before.
That’s a good point. She even doles out the comeuppance herself, and the whole business occurs with no expectation from either her or the rapist that her husband will ever find out about it, even. Very different than the old “women in refrigerators” approach.
On a completely unrelated note, The Horror Blog’s Steven Wintle, who knows me well, writes the following:
I’ve been watching the British sci-fi series Primeval recently. It’s about a group of scientists investigating holes in time that are releasing prehistoric creatures into the modern world. The third episode looks like it’s chock full of scary aquatic dinosaurs.
Just thought you should know.
PS: I found out about it from Bill Cunningham.
Oh boy! I gotta check this thing out–it seems kind of like The Mist with no mist and tonier accents.
Finally, I write letters too. Or at the very least I post comments. Andrew Dignan’s review of the latest episode of Lost over at The House Next Door (SPOILER ALERT! SPOILER ALERT! SPOILER ALERT!) saw him throw his hands up in despair over the introduction of the so-called “magic box,” from which the residents of the mysterious Island known as the Others claim to be able to produce their hearts’ innermost desires. “I give up” is the direct quote. I myself did not:
I think you’re taking the “magic box” concept a bit too literally. I assumed that Ben was speaking, if not metaphorically, then at least, er, poetically, and never got the impression that the room where Locke’s father was being held was an actual Magic Box that they opened up to find him in that morning. Rather, I interpreted Ben’s statement as a more explicit assertion of the already established ability of the island, and apparently some of the people on it, to make manifest their fears and desires. From Jack’s dad to Eko’s brother to Kate’s horse to Charlie’s guitar to Locke’s ability to walk to Juliet’s ex getting run over to Charlie’s plane full of heroin to (perhaps) Claire’s mother getting into a car wreck immediately following Claire wishing she were dead, the entire show has involved one character after another opening the magic box, if you take my meaning.
Later, Andrew replied, in part:
Guys, come on now. I say outright that the box is likely a metaphor, and not literally a cardboard box sitting in a corner somewhere.
Granted, but I think what all of us who accused Andrew of literalism were picking up on was that he was acting as if this aspect of the show debuted, or at the very least reached some completely unprecedented level, this week. The point I was trying to make with my list of “where there’s a will, there’s a way” moments is that this has been a part of the show for a long time, and that this ability of the Island and some of its residents was already apparent.
Hooray for interaction!
Thursday afternoon is here, and with it my opinions on 52, Justice Society of America, Amazing Spider-Man, Battlestar Galactica: Zarek, Detective Comics, Girls, Runaways Saga, The Walking Dead, and X-Men in this week’s Thursday Morning Quarterback.
“It’s one hell of a movie,” he said. “It’s just in your face, raw as they come.”
Let’s hope so. A bunch more at SciFi Wire.