Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: the Saturday morning TV show of Generation Y. Being born in 1991, it was a little bit before my time, but I knew and liked the franchise nonetheless. I owned some of the action figures and a board game, would rent a couple of the live action movies, and for a short time even wore a hand-me-down jean jacket with patches of the four turtles on the back and sleeves. When I was a little older I got more into some of the TMNT videogames and would catch some of the episodes of the 2003 TV series. Despite all that though, I couldn't say that I remember a single episode of the original 1987 series that brought the comic book characters into the mainstream, but now I can. That's right; over the past six months I watched all 193 episodes of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles!
Between seasons 1 through 3 you get the TMNT experience. See this incarnation's origin story of the turtles and the history between Splinter and Shredder, witness the mutation of Bebop and Rocksteady, get weirded out by Krang and the Neutrinos from Dimension X, tremble at the mighty power of the Technodrone, and meet recurring antagonists Baxter Stockman, the Rat King, Leatherhead, and Metalhead as well as allies Casey Jones, Lotus, Zach, the Punk Frogs, and Channel Six News team April O'Neill, Irma, Burne, and Vernon. A desire to learn about these characters was what sparked my interest in watching the show, and they definitely kept me engaged throughout its entirety. The personalities of Leonardo, Donatello, Michelangelo, and Raphael really begin to develop over time, and I was always excited when an episode contained one of the secondary villains like Baxter Stockman or the Rat King.
Season 1 contains just five episodes but establishes all the main characters and their backgrounds. These five episodes have the feel of an extended pilot with slightly choppy animations at times, minor quirks like turtle mix-ups in the voice-acting lines, and much more violent and graphic fighting sequences. From season 2 onward, the show was cleaned up dramatically to fine-tune and polish the character models and tone down the violence, most likely due to censorship. Too rarely post-season-1 do we see the turtles use their ninja weapons in a traditional fighting manner, robotic foot soldiers get cut to pieces, or pedestrians and villains wielding realistic rifles or pistols (everything was replaced with futuristic ray guns), leaving much to be desired in the action department, but the later 2003 and 2012 TV series would eventually both make up for this shortcoming of the original series. While the action takes a disappointing turn with the onset of season 2, many other aspects of the show refine their form. The expression of wit and humor in the writing is probably my favorite characteristic of the series. Primarily the turtles but also other characters commonly shout out puns, one-liners, and fourth-wall breaking comments. Most episodes end with some kind of funny moment to downplay the feats of the turtles in that particular episode in a humorous way. They're often bad jokes, but I've always been one to appreciate the wit required for even a bad pun. Speaking of bad puns, many episode titles are ripoffs of popular horror and sci-fi movies; take for example "It Came from Beneath the Sewers", "The Maltese Hamster", "20,000 Leaks Under the City", and "Invasion of the Turtle Snatchers". I think "Son of Return of the Fly II" takes the cake; imagine a young viewer thinking he missed an episode in the Baxter Stockman chronology due to this absurd title, what a joke. The voice-acting is very good for the most part and contributes largely to the personality of the characters, although some of the voice actors changed over the seasons. I think Shredder had at least 4 different voices, but the original voice work done by James Avery, aka Uncle Phil from The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, was the greatest. All in all, it's apparent that although they were writing to entertain kids, the writers of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles were also entertaining themselves in the process.
Seasons 4 through 7 continue the formula and maintain what made the earlier seasons great. At this point you've pretty much seen it all. I've said it before, and I mean it in the best way possible, but the show is just good enough to keep watching. That's saying a lot though if I can stick out a 193 episode cartoon series from the late '80s and early '90s because it's truly enjoyable to watch. Nothing really changes during this middle period of the series, but there're a few new character appearances including Slash, Bugman, Mondo Gecko, and Tokka and Rahzar (as seen in the live-action Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II: The Secret of the Ooze, 1991). The recurring plots with two of my favorite side characters Baxter Stockman and Lotus are among the best. While some episodes certainly feel repetitive and lackluster, most are at least status quo, and a lot stand out as memorable moments of the show's long run. Along with the episodes involving the aforementioned new characters, "Krangenstein Lives", "Snakes Alive!", "The Star-Child", and "Invasion of the Krangazoids" are several that immediately come to mind. Season 7 is probably the most fresh, with a high percentage of pretty good episodes including the seven that take place in famous European travel destinations.
Seasons 8 through 10 of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles are where things get shaken up. Right away you know things are off when they begin with a new starting sequence which contains half cartoon clips and half footage from the live action movie from 1990, all to the sound of a reworked theme song which is slowed down to about a quarter speed and sung by a different singer with about half the lines removed and a couple changed. It's weird at first and far from classic like the original, but after a few episodes it kind of grew on me. As episode 8-1 begins, a change in some of the character animations is immediately apparent. The turtles have noticeably defined muscles and more serious facial expressions with slightly tethered bandanas. To match this new look, the action sequences are a bit more technical again like in season 1 and less slapstick (which is welcome because they're supposed to be ninjas). April got a big makeover with stunning teal eyes, orangeish hair (still short), a softer, more unique facial structure, and no longer wearing the old yellow jumpsuit. Some fans probably hate this new look, but personally I like April a lot better this way. Before, her facial features were so stock she looked exactly like any generic female character from G.I. Joe with the addition of a yellow suit and breast implants.
The animation changes and starting sequence are not the major changes in the last three seasons though; what really changes is the serious tone of the show with less humor, an emphasis on recurring story arcs with the turtles becoming hated by New York and media, a mutant rights group, new alien villain Lord Dregg, human-mutant Carter, humans from the future, a should-have-been-scrapped-storyboard-idea where the turtles develop super mutations that periodically transform them into illogically and inconsistently mechanical and ugly oversized monsters, the growing irrelevance of Donatello, Leonardo, Raphael, and Michelangelo's personalities and ninja skills/use of ninja weapons as well as the slow disappearance of main characters Splinter, Shredder, and Krang, and you can forget about almost every other side character I've mentioned previously. Do the changes bode well for the show? Not really; they're interesting at first but get old fast. Season 9 was the worst by far with Lord Dregg, Carter, and the turtles' unstable super mutations. During the middle of it, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles was no longer good enough to keep watching; I just watched because I only had around twelve episodes in the entire series left. However, after 169 episodes spanning seven seasons, I understand that it was time to try something different with the show. Thankfully season 10 quickly made a turnaround by its third episode, and the series closed on a fairly good note with a couple strong multi-part episodes which included a good plot to ditch the super mutations and Carter, bring Shredder and Krang back into the mix, reemphasize the importance of Splinter, and end with a greater degree of finality then we would have had should the writers and studio called it quits after season 7. Overall, seasons 8 through 10 are worth watching the same way Beast Machines and The New Batman Adventures are worth seeing at least once; they clearly don't live up to their predecessors but often contain interesting plots and provide a fresh take on their respective series.
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles was an incredible television program and one that still holds up fairly well today. It's one of those rare shows that really displays the masterful art of cartoon writing. To think that for ten years there was a team of people who came up with progressively more absurd storyboards with alien invaders, wrote jokes and dialogue for adolescent humanoid turtles, and then voice-acted all of that in some recording studio is mind-blowing. I can't say that I have a dream job, but that sounds pretty fucking awesome to me. Damn, what am I doing with my life? Getting paid to be a CPA and watching at least one episode of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles every day. Turtles for life!
Saturday, January 4, 2014
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
The Secret Life of Walter Mitty (2013)
I'm not going to discuss the 1939 short story by James Thurber or the 1948 version with Danny Kaye, but as a movie that received less attention than other November/December releases, I'd like to share my opinion that The Secret Life of Walter Mitty was both refreshing and engaging. Directed by and starring Ben Stiller, the film falls between genres stemming from that indie-lifequest type and standard romantic-comedy, with a few brief action sequences thrown in. The romance is secondary to the plot which in my opinion makes its presence more interesting as a desirable outcome is not guaranteed. The comedy is subtle half of the time and forward the other half, and the varying surreality of Walter's daydreams cleverly adds to the context of his experiences. A couple unadvertised roles starring major and minor celebrity actors add to the mix. I thought some of the other characters were overwritten, but these were forgivable as they only slightly detracted from the story's flow. To say anything else would go against my delight in the unexpected, but suffice it to say that I enjoyed the film and would recommend it.
Monday, December 23, 2013
Monster House (2006), Part 1
At about 3pm on Saturday I turned on the TV, and before pulling up the DVR's list of recorded programs something caught my attention: an animated film on a local network. It looked kind of familiar, some CGI kids movie I remembered seeing trailers for a few years back. It was Monster House, that odd movie where the neighborhood kids are afraid of going near this one spooky house on the block because they think it's alive. Back in 2006, this movie looked really dumb. I was 15 at the time, seeing dumb movies like Talladega Nights and Lady in the Water, but I thought Monster House looked really fucking stupid. Now I think otherwise. I only watched about one or one and a half minutes before starting another program with my dad, but it really intrigued me and got me wanting to see the full movie.
The animation is what initially caught my eye. They use a very stylized CGI that reminds me of some of the more realistic claymation where everything is so detailed that you can see the intentional imperfections in the character's faces and skin. That's what this CGI is like. I saw two characters up close, an old man and maybe a 10 year old boy, and they both looked ugly, not in a cartoony way but in a realistic way. The animation is carefully rendered, much more so than the smooth, homogeneous character models seen in the likes of Disney's Tangled (2010), and yet the artist's aim is not to create something aesthetically pleasing but something crude and jarring. The animation is unattractive, yet I could immediately appreciate its style, and I found this artistic dualism fascinating.
Then there's the whole thing with this "monster-house." In the brief scene I saw, an old man is approaching the doorstep of this house as the ugly kid and a few others watch from around a bush. At this point, we see the supposed "monster-house" personified as a character as its windows shift like eyelids and the porch forms the shape of a menacing smile. The kids are nervous, and the ugly one steps out and tries to warn the old man to retreat, that he is in some form of peril, but as the man disinterestedly turns to look at the annoyance he is consumed by an opening front door and a red carpet tongue that rolls out to wrap him up and retracts to gather the aloof victim into the mouth/entryway of the titular Monster House. Then the kids scream and run away, and the fucking house gets up and chases them down the street. It actually had some kind of legs and bounded down the street like Clifford the Big Red Dog in pursuit of the children. That's all I saw, and I can't stop thinking about it. Like, in this movie the house is really supposed to be alive? Is it just a dream or somehow the kid's imagination or something? If this house is really a monster what are the implications in the story? Is that old neighbor dead now? How did this house become a monster? Is it haunted, cursed, alien, demonic, truly a breed of living creature? Does it actually need to eat people in order to survive? I'm lost in the surreality. I don't even know if this scene took place in the beginning, middle, or end of the movie. Maybe it's suspected for a long time and then revealed at the end of the film that the house is really a monster, or maybe it's just taken at face value from the very beginning.
I have no fucking idea what happens in this movie or if the house is really a monster or what the fuck is going on, but my curiosity is peaked. I never thought that I would ever have any interest in this movie, but sometimes I get a new perspective on things. I gotta see Monster House now.
The animation is what initially caught my eye. They use a very stylized CGI that reminds me of some of the more realistic claymation where everything is so detailed that you can see the intentional imperfections in the character's faces and skin. That's what this CGI is like. I saw two characters up close, an old man and maybe a 10 year old boy, and they both looked ugly, not in a cartoony way but in a realistic way. The animation is carefully rendered, much more so than the smooth, homogeneous character models seen in the likes of Disney's Tangled (2010), and yet the artist's aim is not to create something aesthetically pleasing but something crude and jarring. The animation is unattractive, yet I could immediately appreciate its style, and I found this artistic dualism fascinating.
Then there's the whole thing with this "monster-house." In the brief scene I saw, an old man is approaching the doorstep of this house as the ugly kid and a few others watch from around a bush. At this point, we see the supposed "monster-house" personified as a character as its windows shift like eyelids and the porch forms the shape of a menacing smile. The kids are nervous, and the ugly one steps out and tries to warn the old man to retreat, that he is in some form of peril, but as the man disinterestedly turns to look at the annoyance he is consumed by an opening front door and a red carpet tongue that rolls out to wrap him up and retracts to gather the aloof victim into the mouth/entryway of the titular Monster House. Then the kids scream and run away, and the fucking house gets up and chases them down the street. It actually had some kind of legs and bounded down the street like Clifford the Big Red Dog in pursuit of the children. That's all I saw, and I can't stop thinking about it. Like, in this movie the house is really supposed to be alive? Is it just a dream or somehow the kid's imagination or something? If this house is really a monster what are the implications in the story? Is that old neighbor dead now? How did this house become a monster? Is it haunted, cursed, alien, demonic, truly a breed of living creature? Does it actually need to eat people in order to survive? I'm lost in the surreality. I don't even know if this scene took place in the beginning, middle, or end of the movie. Maybe it's suspected for a long time and then revealed at the end of the film that the house is really a monster, or maybe it's just taken at face value from the very beginning.
I have no fucking idea what happens in this movie or if the house is really a monster or what the fuck is going on, but my curiosity is peaked. I never thought that I would ever have any interest in this movie, but sometimes I get a new perspective on things. I gotta see Monster House now.
Sunday, December 8, 2013
Godzilla vs. the Sea Monster (1966)
When it comes to Kaiju films (movies featuring giant monsters), Godzilla is king. Between 1954 and 2004, Japanese studio Toho Productions made 28 movies with the famous Godzilla, starting with Gojira (or Godzilla: King of the Monsters, the slightly reworked 1956 American version), a 1950s science-fiction film that stands among one of the best in the genre of its time. Although the original movie follows the '50s sci-fi flick standard of containing a serious tone, intense focus on morality, and light yet pivotal romance all revolving around something of an atomic or cosmic nature, the Godzilla sequels quickly devolved into something of a less grand scale. I use the term devolution as Godzilla movies aren't typically films of high cinematic caliber (for multiple reasons), but through great costume and miniature effects they deliver some pretty cool looking monsters that beat each other up and ravage Tokyo and other earthly locations. One has to love the Godzilla movies for doing simply that.
Godzilla vs. the Sea Monster is one of the more underwhelming entries in the early Godzilla series, so let's talk about it. Right off the bat, you notice the English dubbing is really bad (with voices reminiscent of The Three Stooges), but it's not just how the lines are read in English because the writing is just poor to begin with. The phrase "use your brain", which is frequently iterated by the island-stranded human characters, has never sounded so trite. What really bothers me about the script though is that it largely fails to identify appropriate timing of humor and seriousness. In one scene there's Beach Boys-esque, '60s beach music playing while Godzilla knocks fighter jets out of the air, resulting upon immediate explosion and certain death for their pilots. That's later on though; for most of the first hour you see a crappy cast of two dance contest losers, a purported thief, and a man in search of his lost at sea brother mistakenly set sail for open water, get lost and later shipwrecked by a mysterious sea monster, find a secret organization enslaving native villagers on an island, discover the sea monster is being used by the military group, and plan to awaken Godzilla in order to cause a diversion and escape the island. All of this happens without any monsters fighting each other.
So that's the shit you have to deal with before and between fight scenes with the Kaiju. Is the majority of the 87 minute duration of Godzilla vs. the Sea Monster worth it to see the monsters duke it out? Not really, but I decided to stick it out anyway. The sea monster is a giant lobster/crab-like crustacean known as Ebirah that shipwrecks Japanese boats and eats people after snatching them out of the ocean with its giant pincers. There's nothing very graphic shown on screen, but I will say that the suggested gore in this particular entry is higher than usual. Godzilla is awoken at about the hour mark of the film, which is fifty-five minutes too late in my opinion, but at least the movie gets speed from there. Godzilla and Ebirah throw boulders at each other for a while before engaging in sea combat. Godzilla rips off Ebirah's claws with ease, clearly irritated he had to get wet in order to cause this ugly arthropod to retreat. There's also a giant condor that Godzilla fights for a few seconds, and then of course Mothra shows up. For a giant butterfly, Mothra is actual quite rad and is always among the most well-designed monsters in the many Godzilla movies it appears in. The problem with Mothra though is that you can never just have Mothra; throughout the course of the movie you gotta sit through at least fifteen minutes of the pygmy Japanese twins, the Infant Island villagers, and the God-awful tribal/summoning songs. It's a real downside of the sub-plot of Godzilla vs. the Sea Monster just for deus ex mothra in the last ten minutes of the movie. Mothra doesn't fight or do anything in this one except serve as the getaway for the ill-developed human characters you don't give a shit about.
Oh, well. If you're watching a Toho Godzilla movie, particularly one from the Showa era, you know what you're getting yourself into. As far as this series of the first fifteen movies goes, I'd recommend Ghidrah (1964), Destroy All Monsters (1968), or Godzilla vs. Mechagodzilla (1974) if you're interested in seeing what these movies have to offer and want to choose one that has more action and monsters and sucks less. Don't forget the original Gojira or Godzilla: King of the Monsters if you happen to like the previously mentioned style of self-important 1950s romantic sci-fi.
Godzilla vs. the Sea Monster is one of the more underwhelming entries in the early Godzilla series, so let's talk about it. Right off the bat, you notice the English dubbing is really bad (with voices reminiscent of The Three Stooges), but it's not just how the lines are read in English because the writing is just poor to begin with. The phrase "use your brain", which is frequently iterated by the island-stranded human characters, has never sounded so trite. What really bothers me about the script though is that it largely fails to identify appropriate timing of humor and seriousness. In one scene there's Beach Boys-esque, '60s beach music playing while Godzilla knocks fighter jets out of the air, resulting upon immediate explosion and certain death for their pilots. That's later on though; for most of the first hour you see a crappy cast of two dance contest losers, a purported thief, and a man in search of his lost at sea brother mistakenly set sail for open water, get lost and later shipwrecked by a mysterious sea monster, find a secret organization enslaving native villagers on an island, discover the sea monster is being used by the military group, and plan to awaken Godzilla in order to cause a diversion and escape the island. All of this happens without any monsters fighting each other.
So that's the shit you have to deal with before and between fight scenes with the Kaiju. Is the majority of the 87 minute duration of Godzilla vs. the Sea Monster worth it to see the monsters duke it out? Not really, but I decided to stick it out anyway. The sea monster is a giant lobster/crab-like crustacean known as Ebirah that shipwrecks Japanese boats and eats people after snatching them out of the ocean with its giant pincers. There's nothing very graphic shown on screen, but I will say that the suggested gore in this particular entry is higher than usual. Godzilla is awoken at about the hour mark of the film, which is fifty-five minutes too late in my opinion, but at least the movie gets speed from there. Godzilla and Ebirah throw boulders at each other for a while before engaging in sea combat. Godzilla rips off Ebirah's claws with ease, clearly irritated he had to get wet in order to cause this ugly arthropod to retreat. There's also a giant condor that Godzilla fights for a few seconds, and then of course Mothra shows up. For a giant butterfly, Mothra is actual quite rad and is always among the most well-designed monsters in the many Godzilla movies it appears in. The problem with Mothra though is that you can never just have Mothra; throughout the course of the movie you gotta sit through at least fifteen minutes of the pygmy Japanese twins, the Infant Island villagers, and the God-awful tribal/summoning songs. It's a real downside of the sub-plot of Godzilla vs. the Sea Monster just for deus ex mothra in the last ten minutes of the movie. Mothra doesn't fight or do anything in this one except serve as the getaway for the ill-developed human characters you don't give a shit about.
Oh, well. If you're watching a Toho Godzilla movie, particularly one from the Showa era, you know what you're getting yourself into. As far as this series of the first fifteen movies goes, I'd recommend Ghidrah (1964), Destroy All Monsters (1968), or Godzilla vs. Mechagodzilla (1974) if you're interested in seeing what these movies have to offer and want to choose one that has more action and monsters and sucks less. Don't forget the original Gojira or Godzilla: King of the Monsters if you happen to like the previously mentioned style of self-important 1950s romantic sci-fi.
Monday, November 11, 2013
Never Say Never Again (1983)
When Sean Connery hung up the tux in 1967 after playing secret agent 007 for the fifth time in You Only Live Twice, he was replaced by George Lazenby for 1969's On Her Majesty's Secret Service. The retirement was brief, however, as Connery reprised the iconic role in 1971 for one of the franchise's worst entries to date, Diamonds Are Forever. It was at this point in history when the legendary actor stated that he would never again play the part of James Bond. Near the end of the Roger Moore era, as fate would have it, this broken promise would lead to the title of the 1983 film Never Say Never Again.
The thing to keep in mind with Never Say Never Again is that it wasn't developed by Eon Productions and therefore isn't considered to be part of the main James Bond series. Consequently, viewers won't find this entry in any of the series DVD or Blu-Ray box sets. Twenty-three James Bond movies were made by Eon between 1962 and 2012, and Never Say Never Again is one of just two non-Eon movies from this time period to feature the 007 character. The other, a comedic spoof, Casino Royale (1967), would sully the title of Ian Fleming's original novel until Daniel Craig's debut in 2006. Never Say Never Again is actually a loose remake of 1965's Thunderball which features 007 as an older agent getting closer to his retirement. Roger Moore's sixth Bond movie, Octopussy (1983), was the Eon film released in the same year as Never Say Never Again and proves an interesting comparison in regards to the age of the two most prominent actors who played Bond. Roger Moore is three years older than Sean Connery and played the role of Bond in the fourteen years that followed Connery's last Eon picture, so a script that treated an aging actor as an aging Bond was an appropriate change of pace because the complaints of Moore's seniority are certainly valid (just wait for Roger Moore's 58 year-old sex scene in A View to a Kill, 1985). As for the actual films, Octopussy takes the cake for 1983; it's my favorite of the Roger Moore era, if only surpassing Live and Let Die (1973) due to its major flaws.
That being said Never Say Never Again isn't bad and is better than at least a handful of the Eon films. Despite being a remake, it feels surprisingly different from Thunderball, and this tonal difference validates its existence. There's no reason to make an exact replica of a film like they did with Psycho in 1998, and thankfully this is not what they did here. When it comes down to it, I think, if any, Thunderball was the one to remake because, although it's good, it's a bit weaker than Dr. No (1962), From Russia With Love (1963), and Goldfinger (1964, my personal favorite Bond film) and was the first time the series felt repetitive to me. You Only Live Twice (1967) still stands as incredibly unique and striking among the series, and Diamonds Are Forever (1971) was just a flop. As for the others, I don't think you can fairly put Connery in movies that weren't written for him. Lazenby may not have worked in any single other Bond movie, but he works in On Her Majesty's Secret Service because he's just that vulnerable shade of Bond one doesn't see very often which that particular story requires.
But I digress. Never Say Never Again is a different take on the story of Thunderball that legitimately feels different. Similar characters and plots feel fresh. Reimagined versions of villain Emilio Largo and girly Domino Vitali provide a more modern vision of an abusive relationship, and the people cast look and act differently than their 1965 counterparts. There's a lot of boat and water scenes, but nothing looks remotely copied from Thunderball, which in retrospect serves to the benefit of both. Felix Leiter is black for the first time. Connery is good, and the older character of Bond was well-played. Maybe it's just me, but his Scottish accent sounds more pronounced here, and his charisma still exceeds an equally or even lesser aged Moore. The film's title track, "Never Say Never Again" performed by Lani Hall, is a light and melodic soft rock song that I personally like quite a lot. I have all of the Bond themes in my iTunes library, and this is one of the 24 that gets played more frequently.
As for the Bond girls, they're nice. Claudine Auger, who original played Domino in 1965, was one of the finest Bond girls of all time, but Kim Basinger looks alright here, better than in Batman (1989), and those see-through ballet leotards push the envelope for nudity in a James Bond movie and help her make the grade. Basinger is nowhere near the fairest or the sultriest when it comes to the many actresses and models who've starred alongside 007, but she's flaunted to her potential here and character-wise does a decent job with this new version of Domino. As the secondary female character, Nicaraguan-American Barbara Carrera plays Fatima Blush, the easy vixen whose exotic charm seduces Bond and viewers alike.
All in all, Never Say Never Again is definitely worth checking out at some point if you're a fan of James Bond, particularly Connery's Bond. With continuity as loose as it gets in these movies, a remake with the same actor eighteen years later both in actuality and character doesn't really feel out of place. In my opinion, this movie ranks somewhere in the middle-back when compared to the 23 Eon films but has its unique merits that make it stand out.
The thing to keep in mind with Never Say Never Again is that it wasn't developed by Eon Productions and therefore isn't considered to be part of the main James Bond series. Consequently, viewers won't find this entry in any of the series DVD or Blu-Ray box sets. Twenty-three James Bond movies were made by Eon between 1962 and 2012, and Never Say Never Again is one of just two non-Eon movies from this time period to feature the 007 character. The other, a comedic spoof, Casino Royale (1967), would sully the title of Ian Fleming's original novel until Daniel Craig's debut in 2006. Never Say Never Again is actually a loose remake of 1965's Thunderball which features 007 as an older agent getting closer to his retirement. Roger Moore's sixth Bond movie, Octopussy (1983), was the Eon film released in the same year as Never Say Never Again and proves an interesting comparison in regards to the age of the two most prominent actors who played Bond. Roger Moore is three years older than Sean Connery and played the role of Bond in the fourteen years that followed Connery's last Eon picture, so a script that treated an aging actor as an aging Bond was an appropriate change of pace because the complaints of Moore's seniority are certainly valid (just wait for Roger Moore's 58 year-old sex scene in A View to a Kill, 1985). As for the actual films, Octopussy takes the cake for 1983; it's my favorite of the Roger Moore era, if only surpassing Live and Let Die (1973) due to its major flaws.
That being said Never Say Never Again isn't bad and is better than at least a handful of the Eon films. Despite being a remake, it feels surprisingly different from Thunderball, and this tonal difference validates its existence. There's no reason to make an exact replica of a film like they did with Psycho in 1998, and thankfully this is not what they did here. When it comes down to it, I think, if any, Thunderball was the one to remake because, although it's good, it's a bit weaker than Dr. No (1962), From Russia With Love (1963), and Goldfinger (1964, my personal favorite Bond film) and was the first time the series felt repetitive to me. You Only Live Twice (1967) still stands as incredibly unique and striking among the series, and Diamonds Are Forever (1971) was just a flop. As for the others, I don't think you can fairly put Connery in movies that weren't written for him. Lazenby may not have worked in any single other Bond movie, but he works in On Her Majesty's Secret Service because he's just that vulnerable shade of Bond one doesn't see very often which that particular story requires.
But I digress. Never Say Never Again is a different take on the story of Thunderball that legitimately feels different. Similar characters and plots feel fresh. Reimagined versions of villain Emilio Largo and girly Domino Vitali provide a more modern vision of an abusive relationship, and the people cast look and act differently than their 1965 counterparts. There's a lot of boat and water scenes, but nothing looks remotely copied from Thunderball, which in retrospect serves to the benefit of both. Felix Leiter is black for the first time. Connery is good, and the older character of Bond was well-played. Maybe it's just me, but his Scottish accent sounds more pronounced here, and his charisma still exceeds an equally or even lesser aged Moore. The film's title track, "Never Say Never Again" performed by Lani Hall, is a light and melodic soft rock song that I personally like quite a lot. I have all of the Bond themes in my iTunes library, and this is one of the 24 that gets played more frequently.
As for the Bond girls, they're nice. Claudine Auger, who original played Domino in 1965, was one of the finest Bond girls of all time, but Kim Basinger looks alright here, better than in Batman (1989), and those see-through ballet leotards push the envelope for nudity in a James Bond movie and help her make the grade. Basinger is nowhere near the fairest or the sultriest when it comes to the many actresses and models who've starred alongside 007, but she's flaunted to her potential here and character-wise does a decent job with this new version of Domino. As the secondary female character, Nicaraguan-American Barbara Carrera plays Fatima Blush, the easy vixen whose exotic charm seduces Bond and viewers alike.
All in all, Never Say Never Again is definitely worth checking out at some point if you're a fan of James Bond, particularly Connery's Bond. With continuity as loose as it gets in these movies, a remake with the same actor eighteen years later both in actuality and character doesn't really feel out of place. In my opinion, this movie ranks somewhere in the middle-back when compared to the 23 Eon films but has its unique merits that make it stand out.
Monday, November 4, 2013
Gremlins 2: The New Batch (1990)
The year was 1984, and the long toil of writer-director-producer trio Chris Columbus, Joe Dante, and Steven Spielberg had come to fruition; their creative endeavor Gremlins jumped on the silver screen to take Hollywood by the haunches. Its story begins when a mysterious creature known as a Mogwai is negligently purchased from a Chinatown pawn shop and given to a teenage boy as a pet. The caretaking rules for these cute Ferbie-looking critters are simple: 1) No bright lights 2) No water 3) No feeding after midnight. Sure enough the rules are broken, the first two by mistake, and the third by a nasty trick of the soon to be transformed scaly, clawed, and evil-looking little monsters henceforth known as Gremlins. Hell breaks loose as the Gremlins attempt to take over the town, but they're eventually bested by the bright rays of morning sun. Even though it might be scary for a young audience, Gremlins is light on the horror, focusing more on plot, comedy, and badass animatronics. There's even a bit of suspense as we slowly discover the life cycle of the Mogwai (think Alien, 1979). Gremlins is a great movie that successfully blends multiple genres and tells a holiday tale for the ages. Despite a strong Christmas theme throughout the film, Gremlins was released to theaters in the contradictory month of June, but who cares? Fuck it. This would be the Gremlins mentality for the duration of this short-lived franchise. Gremlins had a diverse line of toys, trading cards, other memorabilia, and even a sequel in 1990. This sequel would be the last we ever saw of the Gremlins, but God damn did they go out with a bang.
Gremlins 2: The New Batch. What can I even say about this movie to describe it? It's undeniably terrible for so many reasons, but under the surface it might just be brilliant. The plot sucks, a shitty attempt at story just to bring back the main character and his Mogwai friend, Gizmo. Six years after the original run-in with the Gremlins, Billy Peltzer and his fiancee Katie (who both still look like they could be in high school) are working at Clamp Enterprises, a corporate behemoth which specializes in all products and services imaginable. Secretly in one of the in-house laboratories, animal experimenting and cloning has been taking place at the whim and sick imagination of a mad scientist. Somehow Gizmo comes back (does it really matter how or why?) and some dumbass janitor gets him wet when trying to fix a water fountain, and once again his evil brethren are unleashed to make their new habitat their playground. It's all a big excuse to set up for the introduction of new and ridiculous mutant-Gremlins which take the form of bats, giant spiders, vegetables, and even ugly hookers, all causing chaos and pandemonium when the secret lab is taken over and vial after vial of tranformative potions are consumed by the little monsters. It's clear that they spread the budget over a much wider array of effects and new Gremlins because although there are much more of them, most of the special effects look pretty crappy in comparison to the original's. Don't forget the ultra-intelligent talking Gremlin-Professor who can actually say "fuck you" in English in addition to giving the usual scaly, Gremlin middle finger. The fact that he never degrades the viewer in as many words is a testament to the sly bastards who wrote this sequel because for the duration of Gremlins 2, I couldn't help but feel that the joke was on me for deciding to watch this dumb movie in the first place.
I think one of the greatest lines I've ever heard in a film is simply an uncredited voice blaring over the company intercom at a random point in the movie, "Tonight on the Clamp Cable Classic Movie Channel, don't miss Casablanca, now in full color with a happier ending." The fact that Steven Spielberg, great and mighty re-editor of the Indiana Jones series, might have had something to with this line makes it all the more hilarious and depressing. Of course you can't rip on Hollywood without some star power of your own. Cue Christopher Lee as the twisted, maniacal Dr. Catheter (I am not making this up) and a fourth-wall-breaking cameo by Hulk Hogan (who was presumably a big deal in 1990). Last but not least, Chuck Jones himself made a comeback to animation for Gremlins 2 to create brand new Looney Tunes/Gremlins animated microshorts. They're incredibly brief and primarily exist to feature some naughty Gremlins crashing Merry Melodies sketches, once again illogically crossing the reality barrier and interrupting the flow of the film.
Gremlins 2: The New Batch. I can't make sense of it, but this movie has balls. Is it garbage? Is it brain pollution? Is it a masterpiece in disguise? Is it the world's greatest practical joke? Fuck if I know.
Gremlins 2: The New Batch. What can I even say about this movie to describe it? It's undeniably terrible for so many reasons, but under the surface it might just be brilliant. The plot sucks, a shitty attempt at story just to bring back the main character and his Mogwai friend, Gizmo. Six years after the original run-in with the Gremlins, Billy Peltzer and his fiancee Katie (who both still look like they could be in high school) are working at Clamp Enterprises, a corporate behemoth which specializes in all products and services imaginable. Secretly in one of the in-house laboratories, animal experimenting and cloning has been taking place at the whim and sick imagination of a mad scientist. Somehow Gizmo comes back (does it really matter how or why?) and some dumbass janitor gets him wet when trying to fix a water fountain, and once again his evil brethren are unleashed to make their new habitat their playground. It's all a big excuse to set up for the introduction of new and ridiculous mutant-Gremlins which take the form of bats, giant spiders, vegetables, and even ugly hookers, all causing chaos and pandemonium when the secret lab is taken over and vial after vial of tranformative potions are consumed by the little monsters. It's clear that they spread the budget over a much wider array of effects and new Gremlins because although there are much more of them, most of the special effects look pretty crappy in comparison to the original's. Don't forget the ultra-intelligent talking Gremlin-Professor who can actually say "fuck you" in English in addition to giving the usual scaly, Gremlin middle finger. The fact that he never degrades the viewer in as many words is a testament to the sly bastards who wrote this sequel because for the duration of Gremlins 2, I couldn't help but feel that the joke was on me for deciding to watch this dumb movie in the first place.
I think one of the greatest lines I've ever heard in a film is simply an uncredited voice blaring over the company intercom at a random point in the movie, "Tonight on the Clamp Cable Classic Movie Channel, don't miss Casablanca, now in full color with a happier ending." The fact that Steven Spielberg, great and mighty re-editor of the Indiana Jones series, might have had something to with this line makes it all the more hilarious and depressing. Of course you can't rip on Hollywood without some star power of your own. Cue Christopher Lee as the twisted, maniacal Dr. Catheter (I am not making this up) and a fourth-wall-breaking cameo by Hulk Hogan (who was presumably a big deal in 1990). Last but not least, Chuck Jones himself made a comeback to animation for Gremlins 2 to create brand new Looney Tunes/Gremlins animated microshorts. They're incredibly brief and primarily exist to feature some naughty Gremlins crashing Merry Melodies sketches, once again illogically crossing the reality barrier and interrupting the flow of the film.
Gremlins 2: The New Batch. I can't make sense of it, but this movie has balls. Is it garbage? Is it brain pollution? Is it a masterpiece in disguise? Is it the world's greatest practical joke? Fuck if I know.
Wednesday, October 30, 2013
Jeepers Creepers (2001)
As kids grow up and begin to challenge the images and ideas that once scared them, a common form of conquest is the endurance of a scary movie. The commercials alone for Mars Attacks! (1996) and Bride of Chucky (1998) were enough to fuel my nightmares when I was in kindergarten and second grade, respectively, and I wouldn't subject myself to their full 90 minute terror until well into my teenage years, but by fifth grade I was comfortable enough to up the ante and watch suspense/thrillers. I think the first thriller I watched was What Lies Beneath (2000) starring Michelle Pfeiffer and Harrison Ford. My older sister introduced me to it after she saw it at sleepover, and for the two of us the film would serve as a gateway to the likes of Double Jeopardy (1999), Domestic Disturbance (2001), The Glass House (2001), and Signs (2002).
In those preteen years, I could handle thrillers, appreciate the scares that come from a movie like Signs, and slowly gain enough comfort to delve into the horror genre. Around this time period when I was in fifth grade, there were two films that I remember my friend Brandon Koubratoff talking about extensively, both scary movies released in 2001 that coincidentally both started with the letter "J". To this day they're still burned into my brain, schematically going hand in hand: Jeepers Creepers and Joy Ride. One weekend we rented Joy Ride together and watched it multiple times. It's a striking and suspenseful story about some college kids who play practical jokes on truckers via CB radio on a road trip and eventually discover much to their misfortune that they've messed with a psychopath. Naturally, as this psychotic big rig driver discovers their identity and whereabouts, the chase is on. The film was scary in a clean way; looking back everything about it seems finely polished, especially when taking a look at the choice of actors for the protagonists: Steve Zahn and Paul Walker. Gore and other gruesome trademarks of the horror genre are missing or scarce to be seen; it's a pure thriller. Joy Ride was a crucial movie when I was an impressionable boy that reinforced the idea that I could enjoy scary movies and continue to push the envelope with what I was capable of handling. Jeepers Creepers would have served well as a followup with its tinge of horror and the supernatural, but as fate would have it, I never actually saw it as a kid.
Well, I finally got my hands on Jeepers Creepers a few weeks ago, and after seeing it for the first time, I must say that I was quite impressed. Looking back, Jeepers Creepers shares even more similarities with Joy Ride, as the plot begins with a couple of college kids on their way home from a distant university, this time a bickering brother and sister. Although unsolicited, trouble comes in the form of a lunatic driver in an old 1920s-style truck who runs them off the road. The pair manage to recover but eventually pass this same truck stopped at an old barn and witness a cloaked man disposing of what appears to be a bloody, wrapped body into a sewer pipe. At a safe point in time, the brother and sister return to the abandoned barn to investigate with hopes of rescuing a possible victim. I really like the premise to the movie but especially its name, which gives credibility to that old 1969 episode of Scooby-Doo, Where Are You! "Jeepers, it's the Creeper". When I was little, I always wondered, "Who's the Creeper? I've never heard of him." Jeepers Creepers establishes the character and myth of the Creeper, a feature which I personally think gives the film a strong sense of validity. To my knowledge, there weren't any significant movies before it which attempted to define this character. With the worked-in use of the 1938 whistly tune "Jeepers Creepers", the established lore within this film is masterful.
As far as cinematography, Jeepers Creepers features strong visuals, angles, and contrasts of light and color in its shots, and it's no wonder: Francis Ford Coppola was one of three producers. For a horror movie, I'll say that the acting is very good and even the bullshit dialogue in the exposition feels genuine, insignificant but that's its beauty. Justin Long stars as the younger brother and in my opinion is the cast member who really excels in his role. Released three years before his breakout in DodgeBall: A True Underdog Story (2004), I was unaware Justin Long was even in this movie, so to see him have such an uncharacteristic role and perform so well was a pleasant surprise when seeing this movie in 2013. Watching the story unfold was a legitimately thrilling experience which had me on edge until its conclusion. As holds true for most movies, I think the less you know about it ahead of time the better your chances of enjoying it will be. Thankfully, Brandon didn't spoil too much twelve years ago, and Jeepers Creepers manages to hold up surprisingly well today. I can't speak for the 2003 sequel, but if you happened to miss this original back in grade school, it's definitely worth checking out.
In those preteen years, I could handle thrillers, appreciate the scares that come from a movie like Signs, and slowly gain enough comfort to delve into the horror genre. Around this time period when I was in fifth grade, there were two films that I remember my friend Brandon Koubratoff talking about extensively, both scary movies released in 2001 that coincidentally both started with the letter "J". To this day they're still burned into my brain, schematically going hand in hand: Jeepers Creepers and Joy Ride. One weekend we rented Joy Ride together and watched it multiple times. It's a striking and suspenseful story about some college kids who play practical jokes on truckers via CB radio on a road trip and eventually discover much to their misfortune that they've messed with a psychopath. Naturally, as this psychotic big rig driver discovers their identity and whereabouts, the chase is on. The film was scary in a clean way; looking back everything about it seems finely polished, especially when taking a look at the choice of actors for the protagonists: Steve Zahn and Paul Walker. Gore and other gruesome trademarks of the horror genre are missing or scarce to be seen; it's a pure thriller. Joy Ride was a crucial movie when I was an impressionable boy that reinforced the idea that I could enjoy scary movies and continue to push the envelope with what I was capable of handling. Jeepers Creepers would have served well as a followup with its tinge of horror and the supernatural, but as fate would have it, I never actually saw it as a kid.
Well, I finally got my hands on Jeepers Creepers a few weeks ago, and after seeing it for the first time, I must say that I was quite impressed. Looking back, Jeepers Creepers shares even more similarities with Joy Ride, as the plot begins with a couple of college kids on their way home from a distant university, this time a bickering brother and sister. Although unsolicited, trouble comes in the form of a lunatic driver in an old 1920s-style truck who runs them off the road. The pair manage to recover but eventually pass this same truck stopped at an old barn and witness a cloaked man disposing of what appears to be a bloody, wrapped body into a sewer pipe. At a safe point in time, the brother and sister return to the abandoned barn to investigate with hopes of rescuing a possible victim. I really like the premise to the movie but especially its name, which gives credibility to that old 1969 episode of Scooby-Doo, Where Are You! "Jeepers, it's the Creeper". When I was little, I always wondered, "Who's the Creeper? I've never heard of him." Jeepers Creepers establishes the character and myth of the Creeper, a feature which I personally think gives the film a strong sense of validity. To my knowledge, there weren't any significant movies before it which attempted to define this character. With the worked-in use of the 1938 whistly tune "Jeepers Creepers", the established lore within this film is masterful.
As far as cinematography, Jeepers Creepers features strong visuals, angles, and contrasts of light and color in its shots, and it's no wonder: Francis Ford Coppola was one of three producers. For a horror movie, I'll say that the acting is very good and even the bullshit dialogue in the exposition feels genuine, insignificant but that's its beauty. Justin Long stars as the younger brother and in my opinion is the cast member who really excels in his role. Released three years before his breakout in DodgeBall: A True Underdog Story (2004), I was unaware Justin Long was even in this movie, so to see him have such an uncharacteristic role and perform so well was a pleasant surprise when seeing this movie in 2013. Watching the story unfold was a legitimately thrilling experience which had me on edge until its conclusion. As holds true for most movies, I think the less you know about it ahead of time the better your chances of enjoying it will be. Thankfully, Brandon didn't spoil too much twelve years ago, and Jeepers Creepers manages to hold up surprisingly well today. I can't speak for the 2003 sequel, but if you happened to miss this original back in grade school, it's definitely worth checking out.
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