Tederick.com: dr. jones Archives
Archives | Back to blog

January 19, 2009

POTUS.

Take your ease, people of the earth. George W. Bush is no longer President of the United States. At least not in any significant way. (Which differs from the past 8 years... how?) Obamabia (I spelled that wrong but I kinda like it like this) reaches its zenitharack tomorrow, and then who knows what happens. At what point in the week do you reckon they take Barack in the back and tell him about the proof of the existence of extraterrestrials? Do they wait till Thursday, then take him on a tour of all the downed spacecraft and alien corpses? Or do they just show him Crystal Skull on the weekend, and when he looks over at them quizically, they nod and say "yeah"?

Weird that at some point in the last year, and in spite of its suckitude, Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull became the definitive treatise in my mind on the American relationship with extraterrestrials. Huh.

EDGAR WRIGHT IS MAKING SCOTT PILGRIM IN TORONTO STARTING REALLY SOON! I know we knew that already, but with day-and-date pix of the director standing in our current blizzardscape, it became scarily present in my mind. I pretty much don't agree with any of the casting, at all. (Mary Elizabeth Winstead? What? The?) Though i can certainly see a Culkin as gay, slat-eyelidded roommate Wallace. The last few weeks, though, have made me realize that if they ever get off their ass and make a Runaways movie, I'll probably have to just leave the country.

So after 2 weeks of near-nonstop computer troubles, I arrived at work today (sick, sad, tired) and found that THE GODDAMN THING WOULDN'T EVEN TURN ON. I'm on a loaner right now while they re-install Windows. The loaner has all the functional capacity of a brick of soft cheese. I can read and reply to emails, maybe. If I try real hard.

I think the next time I am sick, sad and tired, I am gonna read the damn tea leaves and stay on my damn couch. Damn it.

January 4, 2009

This year, I was unimpressed

Just about to roll the year-end Mamo, so I guess there's no harm in finally publishing this:

What a weird, bad, troubling year it was for movies. Nominally, I assign a top ten list to the films I've seen in a given year - but some years just don't get there. In my head I call these "A.I. years" - because 2001 was the best recent example, a year where the overall offerings were so poor (or at least, the ones that I saw were so poor) that I ended up, not with a top ten or even a top five, but in that case with a top four - a "hopeful" top five list where I left an empty seat at the table for a guest to arrive later. (I ended up filling that fifth slot with A.I., not because the movie is good, but because Chris and I spent the better part of the next 2 years having occasional, enthusiastic discussions about just what in the hell we were supposed to make of that movie. It affected the moviegoing landscape profoundly for the year, which was more than I could say for most of the rest of the flicks out of 2001.)

This year came out about the same. For a year where I saw a handful of films that I pretty much loved as much as any others I've ever seen, 2008 was a film year without a middle class - a few greats, a number of goods, and an almost overwhelming slew of "mehs." You can tell you're in a year like this by examining the reviews of your three favourite critics: I guarantee they will not agree. Two of the critics I greatly admire put Benjamin Button on their Top Ten list; the third thinks the film is profoundly misguided and unsettling. Perhaps this is par for the course, but it felt like the waters were more troubled than usual in 2008; subjectivity ruled. Picking and choosing from among the informed masses was pointless. I returned to the basic set of tools: find out what a film's about (but not too much), who made it and who's in it, and go with your gut. The result, though, was a pretty wobbly year.

As a result, 2008 has a top five instead of a top ten, and even that just barely. I was tempted to leave an "empty seat" again, given that there are a number of films I haven't seen yet which might otherwise have proved list-worthy. Among those are Valkyrie, Man on Wire, Doubt, Rachel Getting Married, Milk and of course Revolutionary Road. In the meantime, though, the films of the year are...

  1. The Dark Knight
  2. Let the Right One In
  3. Wall-E
  4. Ché
  5. It Might Get Loud

Sure, it's become unseasonably fashionable to skewer The Dark Knight since its release; American culture (and ours by inevitable association) is nothing if not bipolar in its twin barrels of a) insistence upon enormous achievement, and b) resentment of same. Now, six months later, even some of the same people who were singing in the rafters about the newfound strength of the comic book movie in July, are down in the church basement fucking alter-boys a billion dollars later. Everybody hates a winner. But a winner it was, glossy and canny, and between The Dark Knight and Let the Right One In, 2008 continued one of this decade's key filmic movements - the LOTR-inaugurated march towards fully exploiting and expurgating the mythic strengths of archetypal stories. Fantasy is a genre in glorious bloom, unlike almost any other genre in movies right now. For a comic book movie and a Swedish vampire movie, these two films were, also, among the most cunning excisions of American political, moral, and sexual mores that have graced our screens this year. Not bad for "pop."

WALL-E, of course, is pop beyond pop; it is not a film of subtlety in its razing of American consumerism, but doesn't need to be, because it is furthermore such a lovingly enraptured tale of two individuals just plain needing each other - a strength in Let the Right One In, as well - that it's difficult not to be utterly beguiled. Love seemed to return to the movie screens this year after a long absence - real love, love where each partner completes the other and thereby opens the boundaries of the possible, not the grim (and dramatically facile) tragedy of love-of-the-doomed. 2008 held a number of refreshing returns to stories that say that great love does not need to end in poisoning, sinking ships, or Alzheimer's.

Ché gains the list almost by virtue of sheer mass; in essaying a guerrilla movie about guerrilla war (using guerrilla cameras, no less), Soderbergh generates enough electricity in 5 hours of running time to more than overwhelm any 2-hour entry on the list. The distinct halves of Ché, though, are also sharp, entertaining, and thoughtful, refreshing the memory of the landscape of possibilities of a filmmaker, a camera, and a sense of artistic fun. This was true of It Might Get Loud as well, to a surprisingly strong degree; for such a humdrum premise (2 hours on the cultural importance of the electric guitar?) it's stunning how much this film makes you want to run outdoors with a camera(/the artistic tool of your choice) in your hand and just make something beautiful.

Honourable Mentions

In spite of the overall weakness of the formal list, this was the year of Honourable Mentions. The Honourable Mention slot, for me, goes to the film that was quite usefully distinct in the overall viewing, but "missed it by this much" because there's something about it that just doesn't seem inherently list-worthy. Normally, I pick one. This year, I picked four:

  • Citron and Flame, the movie Valkyrie wishes it could be
  • Ce'st pas moi, je le jure, another meaty and grim essay of troubled boyhood that would make a fine real-world companion piece to Let the Right One In
  • The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, one of those rare films which was actually originally included in my top five but slowly dropped as the days since I saw the film passed. Its strengths do not linger, and its weaknesses gain scale after the fact.
  • And for whatever reason, I am quite after-the-fact obsessed with Sauna, a movie which everyone (and me) didn't think very much of at the Toronto Film Festival, but which has sort of kicked around the back of my head since then. It would probably earn the "A.I. slot," if one were available. Flawed, disturbing, fearless.

I would also heartily suggest that while Cloverfield might not belong on this list, it belongs on some list, somewhere, because from a purely technical perspective, it is one of the great achievements of the year. Would have loved it if they'd come up with some miraculous solution to the clichés, but it's still film school in a can for anyone who wants to deconstruct the Bourne run-and-gun filmic style. Additionally, obviously, it is a master class in film marketing, and unlikely to be challenged in that regard for years. (Incidentally: if you watch the film with the presumption that at the instant of the attack, Hud goes completely insane and can no longer rationally assess "reality," the movie works significantly better.)

Worst film of the year

There was no clear winner this year for worst film, either, probably because I just didn't end up going to anything that really made me want to skullfuck my eyes out at the Van Helsing level of awfulness. Even Martyrs - certainly the worst filmgoing experience I had this year - is too disreputably vile to be counted against real movies; it is not so much "bad" as "horrid," and as useful to me as rotten salad.

Instead, I am going to name Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull in this slot, which is unfair and whiny; it is not a terrible film nor even a terrible disappointment, but certainly ended up being the most negative relationship I had with a movie this year. For such an underwhelming and ultimately unimportant film, Indy 4 sure irritates the fuck out of me, and my empathy for the Phantom Menace haters grew tenfold this year. It's foolish to think that your "childhood" is some sovereign territory that lives for your agency only, but it's also horrible when you willingly allow some piece of it to be despoiled by fallen men. We should all be stronger.

Best technology of the year

Nonsensical made-uppy category, but shinybludisks made a major impact in my film enjoyment this year. It took a while, but I am apparently turning into the sort of loser who would rather be home with his home theatre than out at the Scotiamount with the assholes. (Well, the Scotiamount sucks regardless.)

Other and miscellany

Best original score: The Dark Knight

Best performance: Mickey Rourke in The Wrestler

Best sequence of a boat hitting another boat: At the Edge of the World

Better on Blu than at the movies: Encounters at the End of the World

Best Blu-Ray overall: The Dark Knight (picture), WALL-E (features & extras), Lost: The Complete Fourth Season (watchability), Juno (huggability)

Most overrated film of any length: Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog

You'll never see it, but you really should: Medicine for Melancholy

Biggest disappointment: Hellboy 2

Best karate kick... to my heart!: Jean-Claude Van Damme's soliloquy in JCVD

Best... something: Synechdoche, New York

Unexpected words to live by: "If I run, you run." (Mila Kunis to Jason Segel in Forgetting Sarah Marshall)

November 27, 2008

Meltyface indeed

That is some spectacular grossness.

I'm pretty impressed overall. The price is way too high for an un-armoured figure, but the attention to detail is frickin' fanatical. The meltyface swap-out head is not actually the exclusive (the really expensive Ark of the Covenant is, for those who want it), so everyone gets to partake of the meltyface fun. Plus, he comes with every other damn thing right down to the unfolding coat hanger. This will be to next year what the Hot Toys Joker was to this year - the one.

November 26, 2008

Dallas

DID! YOU! KNOW! that Umbrella Academy Vol. 2 starts today with issue #1 of Dallas? I wonder if that's city Dallas, TV show Dallas, or captain of the Nostromo Dallas. (Speaking of which: working lights!) I guess we'll find out in a few short hours.

I messed my hair up a bit this morning in an attempt to look emo like Gerard Way or Spider-Man Three, but my hair doesn't work like that. I did, however, spontaneously dance.

Also, today is the day that Batman theoretically either dies, retires from crimefighting, or turns into a giant elk or moose. I'm betting on the latter because Batmooseman is not only a great idea for a comic, but is also the name of a city in Turkey.

For those interested, Michael Crawford's review of the Sideshow Indy figure - which looks in some ways better than I expected, and in some ways worse - is here. I cancelled my order on this a few months ago in a fit of pique, because after all, toys are for little kids. (Still no word on meltyface Toht, by the way.)

And that's yer geek news for today.

November 21, 2008

Perhaps you would like to have a conversation with THIS??

Nothin' says Christmas like a Nazi doll! Woot! He'd better come with a glowing poker and an alternate melty-head (the latter to make up for the cancellation of melty-face Toht from the 3 3/4" Hasbro line).

He could also have a little pull-string on the back that makes him say "Net." And he could come with Mohan, that Mongolian feller. And springs in his legs to make him jump up and down in the snow. HOLY SHIT - what about a puppy. Toht could totally eat a puppy.

November 16, 2008

How did I miss this...?

The fact that something I have been hoping for since I was about 15 years old, being a boxed set of the majority of the music from the Indiana Jones trilogy (yeah fucking TRILOGY), including the lion's share of unreleased stuff from Temple, went to the stands this week and I had no idea it was even in the works, sorta makes me nauseous for some reason. But there it stands.

Really wish I hadn't bought the Skull soundtrack in May.

October 31, 2008

In the sand

On the same subject, if you go over to IndyGear.com and scroll all the way to the bottom of the page about the fedora, you'll find a pretty stupendous little tale of a fan and collector stumbling on what might actually be the hero fedora from, at the very least, the Cairo sequences of Raiders of the Lost Ark. (Unlike the collector and the site, I am unconvinced that the same hero hat is used through the entirety of Raiders. The slope from the top of the crown to the front edge of the brim is very different in the Cairo scenes than in, say, the jungle at the beginning of the movie. Yes I notice these things.) Still, that's sort of amazing. When I was a kid and they put the hat from Crusade in the Smithsonian, I was still under the delusion that there was only one Indiana Jones hat, and that was it in the glass case, enshrined to stand the test of time... and yet, the possibility that Harrison Ford's actual shoot-the-Arab-dead hat ended up in a miscellaneous costume box and was taken away by a nameless stunt man to lie in a basement for 30 years is so goddamned beautiful it almost makes my eyes hurt. That is Indiana Jones, man. That's a story worthy of the art.

This has been a rough week. Not bad, not good, just rough - crises and explosions and affirmations and kinship. Pulling closer. 2009 is going to be a big year, and lines are starting to form now which tell me a bit about what's going to be up for decision, and when, and by who. And even if the calendars don't roll over until Jan 1, it feels like '09 started sometime in the past few days. I wrote in my journal: "Really? This is my life?"

I'm taking it back

Photography by Cannobo le Bobo

October 22, 2008

Mighty Mola

BEST THING EVER.

When I looked at him a minute ago I thought it said "I rip out your heart, Charlie!" which is in a lot of ways even funnier.

October 13, 2008

Gay love on the rez

There are apparently two things I simply cannot forgive:

  • Abusing my liberal guilt
  • Making a bad Indiana Jones movie.

While in the list-making mode, the Thanksgiving weekend has made me realize that I left two important signposts off my recent list of things that make you an actual grown-up:

  • The ability to host dinner parties
  • The ability to have people from out of town sleep over
  • Formally engaging some kind of financial "retirement plan"
  • **NEW!** Cooking a whole turkey
  • **NEW!** Waking up in your own bed on Christmas Day, at a home not owned by your parents.

That colour, by the way, was "firebrick." Hex code #800517 for those looking.

Incidentally, my brother tells me some crazy son'bitch out there actually wrapped a turducken (which is actually, by default, a turduckenage, as we explored yesterday) in bacon, thus creating (for all intents and purposes) a bacoturduckenage. Five meats.

Hot Toys Two-Face: not shabby! Neo-Toht with meltyface: not coming! That latter was worth my updating my meagre little Toht fan page from back when the internet had fan pages, for the first time in about eleven years.

Right, so I went to see a puppet show with Rebecca today, which was as decent enough as any a way to spend a holiday Monday. Plus, it's unseasonably warm in T.O. today. I might go for a bike ride back to my old abode, and see if that frickin' crystal skeleton ever showed up. And tonight is all about watching Batman with Mark. Doin' just fine over here.

"Guy rips out the other guy's heart, shows it to him, and tosses him into a fire pit." - Me, explaining to Bex why Temple of Doom continues to have a profound hold on my subconscious

October 9, 2008

DL CL Chewbacca

A tiny, vicious-looking miniature helicopter would go nicely with my trebuchet, don't you think? I could send out sorties into the rest of the office, lure enemies back to my desk with the promise of RC helicopterin' fun, and then hit them with a fusillade of trebuchet-flung hellfire. But I don't trust ThinkGeek any more, not since the Venus Flytrap incident of 2006, which was admittedly my own fault for thinking that the climate in Toronto was somehow equivalent to that of Buenos Aires, but I blame ThinkGeek nevertheless. Because I'm a dork.

Sarafina and I took a lap around the Spaced block last night, with delicious foods to go along with, and she's also working her way through the first season of Lost rather ravenously, which has made me want to go back and watch the whole thing all over again, or at least get to December quickly so I can watch Season 4 when it comes out on the DVD. The dino-natives are restless.

Television programs I apparently no longer watch:

  • House
  • The Simpsons
  • Pushing Daisies

Television programs I continue to watch in spite of myself:

  • Sookie Stackhouse or whatever the fuck it's called

Thus returning us to my long-held, little-believed assertion that I don't watch TV any more.

July 26, 2008

Aliens from space

Between me and my brother, this morning:

Me: Check it out, aliens are actually real.
Adam: Damn... here's hoping he's sane. I wiki'd him and he's 78 so he may just be senile from all the age and space travel.
Me: Or maybe he has a CRYSTAL SKULL??
Adam: More likely, yes.

It wasn't until a few days ago that I actually registered the full measure of my disappointment about Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. I was tooling around indianajones.com, there were some video clips from the movie on there, and I just sorta gawped at it. Good lord in fuck, why on earth would anyone ever do a thing like this. It's amazing that three Star Wars prequels couldn't make me hate George Lucas, but this one did it with one computer-animated gopher poking out of a dune hill, and took down my teenboy love of Spielberg with it. They're freezing Lucas in carbonite over in Japan in officially sanctioned product now; can we get desk-sized ones on this side of the Pacific?

On a much lower scale of disappointment is the X Files sequel. For years I have been crying "The world needs Fox Mulder!" so I guess I'm getting what I paid for this weekend; in the post-Batman orgasmic high it barely mattered to me at all that this movie was even coming out, and the results bear out:

I genuinely do: I want to believe. I want to believe in aliens and psychics and fluke men. More than that, though, I desperately want to believe that if the Man is being a scary, lying sonofabitch, there's a couple of methodical, deadpan FBI agents out there with flashlights and cell phones and a drab mid-size sedan, patrolling the highways and biways of middle America / Vancouver with a dogged (Doggett?) interest in figuring out just what the hell is going on. Maybe not solving, maybe not saving, but at least seeing. I believe in The X Files.

Rest of the review is here.

Now utterly unsure of what the hell I'm supposed to go do with myself, I'm going wander around the city and try to find new gods.

June 12, 2008

...and the City of the Gods

I have the Darabont draft.

I am so fucking excited right now. Holy geekgasm. I will not disburse it to anyone, because that would be illegal. And I will not link to where you can find it, because then I could get a C&D from the Man. But I highly encourage you web Indys to get your shit together and bullwhip yourself a PDF.

Meanwhile, things continue apace. I think I've actually encountered roughly 80% of the people I know in the world in the past three days alone, due to a few closely-spaced common gatherings... Rebecca and Mark and I actually standing in one place talking to each other, when the fuck does that ever happen any more. Boy: we are getting old. Almost like grown-ups, except for the hobbit on my desk. Otherwise, the words of the last few days have been, in this order, "hum" and "drum." I'm getting up to speed on new responsibilities and trying to keep the way clear in the after-work life, too, and tackling the next thing, and the thing after that. It's a process, not a goal, as I've been reminded repeatedly over the past few weeks; if I could sit in one place and really take it all in for a few minutes, that would help me feel a bit less like I'm scrambling to keep up with my own life. But that'll pass too.

i AM now IN SEARCH OF MY CREATIVE ENERGY having found the Darabont draft. HAVE YOU SEEN IT???

June 3, 2008

They're digging in the wrong place!

Why does this Indy figure come with the Ark and a bunch of other stuff he never uses or sees during the Map Room scene, but doesn't come with the Staff of fucking Ra?

(I tried, but this has been bugging me for weeks.)

"He doesn't use his bullwhip in that scene, he certainly doesn't open fire on it!" - Me, to Mark, at the Silver Snail on May 21

May 25, 2008

Mamo #115: Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Unwieldy Title That Robs the Movie of a Certain Elegance Required for this Kind of Thing to Work

I'm fairly sure one of our Mamo listeners actually stood up and warned us not to review Indy IV negatively - something about not wanting to be one of those hater thirtysomethings who can't enjoy a flick cuz they're just generally grumpy about everything. Well, grumpy or not... though film criticism is hardly our regular bag on this show, we spend about the first twenty minutes of this particular Mamo discussing what went wrong with the eminent archaeologist this time around. Then, we get into the numbahs. It's good to be Mamo.

Flick made money, anyway. I also wouldn't mind linking out to these two reviews, not to pile on the hate, but just because I think they're rather well done.

May 23, 2008

AND THEN HE STALKED HER UNTIL SHE LEFT THE PARTY

I took today off, sorta like last year when I took the day off after Pirates 3 came out, though it wasn't really about Pirates 3 then, and it wasn't really about Indy 4 now. Just circumstantial. Actually, yesternight was Sarafina and I's 6-monthiversary (seems like only yesterday it was phone calls to Japan and pancakes and Back to the Future and me shouting at Chris for some reason), but being as that she's all jobbed up and awesome, I'm spending the day on my own recognizance, reading Scott Pilgrim - which is excellent, by the way, boy do I love seeing Toronto in comic book form! - , listening to the Indy IV score, and drinking beers. And, y'know, figuring shit out. And I have a little plastic Russian man with a gun in my bag, because no movie can make me hate Indiana Jones. And the last of the breakfast-related key chains. And hope. Yeah.

So last night with the flick and the headache, sure, but like I said before, it was all good before I even went in the door, because I was with the people I like most. Right now I am trying to get reorganized on my overall physical and mental well being, due to the sudden and intense nature of my job life at the mo'. But having just sketched everything out in a variety of Word tables, I'm not too worried actually. As it turns out - and this should not necessarily come as news - things are going pretty well. I wish I was writing (well, something other than this blog anyway), and I wish I had a billion dollars. Otherwise... well, I'm humbled before the pile of graces. So... uh... thanks, universe.

Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull

I haven't received a headache from a movie like that since Magnolia drilled a migraine into my brain.

I know what I'm in for when I step into an Indiana Jones movie, and it ain't common sense, or even layman archaeology. To paraphrase Dr. Jones, the danger is folklore: brilliant for its MacGuffiny, quest-inducing power, but a little thin on credibility. Still, believable or not, the Ark had rules. (Indy even spelled them out, in a brisk 2-minute scene, relying occasionally on a blackboard to help him do so.) The creators of Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull have apparently observed no rules whatsoever.

Click here to read my review. Spoilers abound, but then, the word "spoilers" implies some effort on the part of the filmmakers at keeping the plot twists in some way veiled.

May 22, 2008

I solemnly swear

Faaaaaaaaaaancy. He even has the socks.

Also, there's gotta be a joke in this Holy Grail paperclip holder, but I can't think of one right now. I throw it open to the floor.

This week I am giving up coffee, toys, delicious foods, spending unnecessarily, DVDs, books, and moping. (It's important to give up moping when you give up other things.) By "giving up" I usually mean "am cutting down / reconsidering / giving a short break", but whatever. It's been a fat and decadent couple of months, but honestly, who has the time any more anyway?

May 21, 2008

I CAN'T SEE JUPITER!!!

"What do these vegan bean-eaters have against cream?" - Matt

I am very content, thank you; content and happy, the last several days were lovely, sunshiney even without the sun, fresh airy even when indoors, excellent in all respects, no you can't have any, go away. Sarafina and I closed the V-day weekend at Skin Tight Outta Sight, where there was much winnings of things and other merry-making, which was a perfect cap to a solidly enjoyable long weekend and involved a Boy Scouts uniform top. So... hot. Things have just resolved and clarified in new and exciting ways over the past few days, and look to further improve in the coming weeks. The only shock to the system was a rather unexpected launch into my new position at work - I'm basically in the management role as of right now. But that's okay, because I feel a lot more solid right now about what I'm doing, who I'm doing it with, and where the major signposts are over the next 4 months or so. It was Sarafina's first day at her new job yesterday, too, so we debriefed our mutual awesomeness over sushi, and finished off The War of the Roses before bed. I'm liking all this. I have a slew of team meetings next week, and a very big exciting long weekend to look forward to in June, and I have to hire someone at some point. Otherwise the summer is looking clean, enjoyable, and Batman. Is Batman an adjective? It is now.

Gulu's getting married! Good for Gulu.

Aragorn's in The Hobbit! Good for Aragorn. Boy that seems to have freaked some folk out; I'm more worried that they'll try to shoehorn Orlando Bloom into the Elvenking's palace somewhere. More importantly, though, it looks like we're a few days out from confirmation of the screenwriting tasks on the flick - I'm assuming it's Fran and Phillipa for screenplay, Guillermo and PJ for story. But jeez lord, I want to know what the sequel movie deal is going to be. I don't get it.

I've been listening to "Desert Chase" from the Raiders of the Lost Ark score repeatedly all week. I think it is my very favourite piece of John Williams music, or at least is in the top three, or the top two. Everything that is different and better about Raiders vs. the other movies can be boiled down into that one track - a difference in mood, or intention, or something. We watched the whole trilogy on Friday night - don't do that, eh? It's hard. And it makes Raiders glow like a Shankara Stone, and Temple kick hard ass like a Thugee guard on methamphetamines. And Crusade sorta sucks all of a sudden.

Crystal skulls? I dunno. I'm excited, but very hesitant, about my commitment to Dr. Jones tomorrow night. But I'm going to enjoy seeing it with my girl and my best friend and Christy too, so it's sort of a win regardless of what happens in the eponymous Kingdom.

"And here... we... go." - The Joker

May 9, 2008

Alpert all along

By happy coincidence, I watched season three's "The Man Behind the Curtain" right before I watched last night's episode of Lost, "Cabin Fever." The two rhyme beautifully. The two darkest characters on the show - Ben and Locke - are both born in relatively horrible circumstances at the head of each episode; the mass Dharma grave (and resident corpse Horace Goodspeed) feature prominently in both; and let's face it, both episodes are creepy as fuck. (It's not every TV show that can actually make me nervous, but walking toward that fucking cabin is now shaking loose collywobbles born of every childhood nightmare about the woods behind the cottage.) But really, the most important thing about both episodes is that they kick us square in the face of the obvious: all this time, we really should have been paying closer attention to Guyliner. "Doctor" Richard Alpert, and his perennially boyish girl-eyes, has done some serious traveling of note, hasn't he? Come next season, mightn't we be saying things similar regarding one Matthew Abaddon, keeper of the greatest name in the history of great names? Who exactly was behind the wheel of the truck that hit young Swoosie Kurtz, anyway? Time will tell, and be damn wooshy about it in the meanwhile.

Regardless, last night's was indeed the balls-out goodness. The grounds shifted.

Grounds shifting further: I'll be stepping up to manage my team at work for the coming year. It's been in the works a while but only finally got announced today, so I guess I can actually talk about it. I'm excited. A lot of things that I had been working on since the day I started with the company came to a thrilling conclusion about six weeks ago, and at almost exactly the same time, this next major sequence of events got started moving forward. When I look at the sheer distance I've traveled in my two and a halfish years here, well... I sorta get vertigo. I owe one Old Man a cookie, that's for sure. Big tackle and mysterious ways. Came on like old leather.

All week I've kept having this weird dream that I buy The Golden Compass on blu-ray because I can't resist the foil wrapping, and another one that Indiana Jones is as strange and unsettling as the green M&Ms they've tied in - I mean, they're not really bad, but who looked at the silhouette of Indiana Jones in the prison of their dripping, subconscious mind and thought "mint"? What if his shadow in our eyes was wrong all along?

May 3, 2008

I am Iron Man.

Two things have come from my screening of Iron Man:

  • Miscellaneous successes (like finding the right door to the subway) are made funnier if you say "I am Iron Man."
  • I should start calling everyone "Obadiah."

Woe! For I must be the lone voice of dissent on this Comic Book Friday, when the Iron Man flick is clocking a whopping 94% on the tomatometer. It's not that the flick's bad - it's just not terribly good, either, is it? It reminded me a lot of Spider-Man 1, actually (though its structural Batman Begins aspirations are so blatant as to be painful) - just sort of obvious and uninspired throughout. Fun to watch the big red-and-gold meanie fly around and beat shit up, but then, so was watching Optimus Prime kick the shit out of Megatron for eight seconds last summer. It doesn't make for good.

Yes, Downey is fantastic. The script, meanwhile, phones every note in, and Favreau bowls straight down the middle of the lane for easy, slow strikes. We're rewarding mere competence with hurrahs here, people. It can be a lot better than this. Actually, my estimation of the flick jumped leaps and bounds right at the very end, but since these leaps and bounds are not just spoilers but spoil the (in my opinion) two best things about the film, I must deign to hide them AFTER THE JUMP!

More after the jump...

April 29, 2008

How you can be an adventure hero like me

I gave up on Monster Blood Tattoo; I loathe the truly pathetic attempts to capitalize on everything awesome about the truly great works of fantasy fiction (structure from Harry Potter, language-smithry from Tolkien, parallel worldism from Lyra) as though something new or interesting will come out of the blender-parts of the achievements of the past. Synergize, people, don't just homogenize. Ain't brain surgery. So instead, I'm reading The Indiana Jones Handbook. Which is crappy in an entirely different set of ways but is at least entertaining, especially given all the veiled "the crystal skulls are from aliens!!!" references. It's sort of like The Worst Case Scenario If You're Indiana Jones. I am learning how to pass under a moving truck, how to cut a rope bridge in half (if only I'd known 2 weeks ago!), and how to survive poisoning by a bloodthirsty Chinese ganglord. Given the poor pedigree of the book's writing, most of these involve "well, do the best you can, I guess." Which, to be fair, is probably how Indy approaches life, too.

I never bought The Worst Case Scenario If You're Batman (or whatever it's called). Wish I had. I imagine Batman has a number of seriously worst-case scenarios.

Hey, in the good news, I suspect the postal tag that arrived on my doorknob yesterday is actually my Raiders jacket, back after a 4-month sojourn in its home country of England. Words cannot express how much I've missed having this thing, and how much airplane flights suck when you're not wearing it. It's the all-purpose awesomegarment. Hats are for jerks: jackets are where the real adventure-wear lies.

April 22, 2008

Indiana Jones and the...

...Nightmare Airport of Doom! Sure, I knew on Wednesday (last) that there was going to be snow in Vancouver on Friday night. The Vancouver airport, on the other hand, apparently didn't figure this out until the dirty great chunks of the shit were falling from the gods. And since they had not planned for any snowsomeness, they had sent the de-icing crews home, and since the plane upon which I had just been seated was now, in fact, covered in ice, we spent four hours waiting for the ice to melt off on its own. That is how I spent my Friday night redeye flight home from Vancouver: wishing for my own death. Which, thankfully, never came because the subsequent days have been awesome!

...Miracle of the Unloved Sequel! I don't care what anybody says, Temple of Doom is awesome. I'm sorry they couldn't handle it back in 1984, but that speaks of their own weakness, not the film's. That goddamn thing is a firecracker, and Sarafina and I watched it last night under blankets and after a sensational meal of appetizers, and if this isn't the stuff that vacations are (or should be) made of, I don't know what.

...Curse of the Absent Store! Retro Fun is retro gone. What the bleepin' F, internet, where am I supposed to get a metal Indiana Jones lunchbox in Toronto if Retro Fun is gone and fuckin' Suspect burned down? This town is without retro awesomeness! There is an obvious gap: someone needs to fill it! Hearty entrepreneurs, this is your time.

...Robots! Brain pills! The Kingdom of Patio Springtime! And many more!!

April 10, 2008

I'm gonna DJ at the end of the worrrrrrrrrrrld

Round trip to Brantford last night for my lady, home late and up later, woke up this morning not entirely sure who I am, until I remembered: "Oh yeah, I'm the guy who did that." It's nice when the strings connect.

It took me a few go-throughs but I am enjoying the new R.E.M. album. Better than Around the Sun anyway, but I really didn't get much out of that one. Still, I'm aware that nothing's really shaking my shit loose like it did back in the day. But then, one should not expect a band to be able to do anything like they did "back in the day." "The day" is where bands live, and every day since "the day" is a Sick Boy rant I can recite from memory which comes from a movie that is, in its own way, indicative of the exact phenomena it so effectively critiqued.

Apparently someone can actually sculpt Harrison Ford's face. Worth tossing the 12" to move up to Premium Format? Nah, probably not. It would be better if these things weren't shipping so late in the year, anyway. By third quarter I'm gonna want none of this; if they'd streeted in the second week of May, it'd be nothing but Indiana Jones all over my damn self. As it is, I guess I'll buy this measly Oldiana Jones figure. It amuses me. And the like-scaled Slave Leia can worship hiim as a god-thing.

I gobbled up the first issue of Millar's run on Fantastic Four last night, because everyone said it was so darn good... and it is so darn good. Plus, Serenity: Better Days #2 was actually the first time in five Serenity comics that I actually got that "new story smell," i.e. feeling like I was actually watching an episode of the TV show I never saw before. It was a bit vague, but I liked it. Why does the art have to suck so much?

Thank Christ, they finally found my Raiders jacket at Wested in the UK, new lining not yet installed, and mistaken for a "pre-distressed" jacket on order because it's just so spectacularly Jonesy in its beaten-up-ness. Now it might actually get back just in time for it to be too hot for me to wear it!

February 15, 2008

Nobody In The World Can Sculpt Harrison Ford's Face: Final Edition

Ah well. I'd held out vague hopes that Sideshow would somehow come through in the clinch and become (in spite of their own track record) the first company in history to be able to sculpt Harrison Ford's face. The proto, after all, showed some potential. And you can't argue (much) with the costume detailing on the final piece. But it still ain't no Indiana Jones.

You know what'd be great? A 12" Mola Ram. I bet those sunzabitches could sculpt the scary walkin' shit outta Amrish Puri.

February 14, 2008

Oh, all right...

...Indy's back.

It's possible - it's just possible - I'm becoming cantankerous in my old age. I'll tell you what I like most - the single-frame hint of a smile after he delivers "part-time." That tells me more about this movie than pretty much all the rest of the trailer... although the hat gag, the old age gag, the magnetic resonance field gag, the jeep gag, and the whip gag are pretty cool too.

February 13, 2008

Time to get over that fear of snakes, Indiana.

Points against Indy IV: 11**
Points for Indy IV: 5

**forgot to tally on the last 5 posts.

February 10, 2008

Stop talking like a dick!

Strikewatch: day! It's over. Kinda. Whatever. You know, this whole thing really was like that Simpsons episode where TV went away and everyone went outside. I watched a couple of episodes of House back to back last night which was, aside from the two new episodes of Lost, the first time I've watched network TV since November. It felt strange and unusual, and I began to get a glimmer of the feeling of what it would be like to not watch television at all. Not so bad. If those episodes of House (and Lost) weren't so darned scintillating, I'd say to hell with the whole thing.

Now let's gripe about Indy IV. When I found out that Shia LaBeouff's character's name was Mutt, I started to feel like really, we all oughta just not go see this movie at all. I mean, I know we will. But think about what we're putting on the line here: I genuinely love all three of the flicks, albeit in completely different ways apiece. How much would it suck to just have to deal with the fact that the fourth one was jive, with characters named Mutt in it? All right, it's the most obvious point to make. But it was really drilling into me over the past few days. My jacket's in the UK, the Sideshow announcement is coming soon, I've got Last Crusade spinning in my DVD player right now. I love me the Indy. I don't want change.

Had a terrific day which involved, in no particular order, watching the last great Tim Burton movie (cuz fuck Tim Burton!), welcoming D-Coc and B-Gold back from G-ny, eating cold chicken, and lolling around in bed for like a near-criminal quantity of hours. If all days were like this, I'd need no other sustenance.

February 8, 2008

I am the Nosmo King

And why that is, shall remain my burden (and one other's).

Stress leave day: which mostly involved being in bed for a really long time, visiting many Starbuckses, seeing Juno, and carrying the girl across puddles. Really, I should flip out more often. Like Jeremy Davies, the most nervous man alive. I don't know, after last week's Lost epilogue I thought Davies might finally have escaped his own twitchiness. No such luck. That man's jumpy as a ferret and twice as scrawny. Anyways: that's apparently me as well. Or was, before today's loveliness. It's amazing what puddle-carriage does for the soul.

Y'know, it's pretty nice that I've got this girl on the one hand, and still time and tide enough to order me up some Davy Jones on the other, and a pretty solid summer (and year) ahead of me to boot. (Barnacled boot.) Life, she good.

Someone wanna tell me why they couldn't just go back to Wested to make Indy's jacket this time around? That smacks of filmmakers being too cool for their own shit.

OK, I gotta go cook something complicated.

February 5, 2008

I got the best one.

and I pity any one who isn't me (tonight, tra la la la la la la la la la la).

What are you doing today, Matt? Oh, y'know. Hanging around, making e.learning, eating Cracker Jack. Lemme tell ya something, Internet: Cracker Jack gets it done. Things aren't quite as hellfuck at the office as they've been for the last few weeks; it's probably just an eye in the storm, but it's a welcome eye. What I would really like to do is go on some serious vacation. It's on my mind a lot lately. Too bad I suck at organizing things. This is for why I need a large staff. (Of people, not wood. I have the latter already. And that's not even trying to be a double entendre - I literally have a wooden staff. For defence.)

The last few months have pretty much lame-ducked every single writing project I've had, though I am now within 30 pages of being done Snapdragon for the immediate nowness. And I've got a 3-issue dealie called "Today's the Day" that I'd like to start next. I tell ya though, that get-up-at-6-to-write thing was a lot easier before winter hit. Now it just seems like suicidal anti-sleepdom.

Strikewatch: day 2! If the whole thing gets concluded this week, does that mean they'd actually be able to finish out the Lost season? I really liked the premiere, with or without Spooky Christian in the chair. Here's my guess on the Oceanic Six:

  • Jackwise J. Shephard
  • Evangeline Katey
  • Jabba
  • Benjamin H. Gale, The Man In The Coffin
  • Sunny Sucksalot
  • and, oh, let's say, Moe.**

**Moe = one of the freighter people, a.k.a. the "he" in "he'll be waiting for me". Romance ahead!

I'lll tell ya something: Indiana Jones should not find proof of alien intervention in the dawn of the human race. That would be Dumb. Sure, a golden box that the Hebrews carried into battle to prove themselves God's chosen people which, when prompted, melts Nazi faces, is sorta dumb in its own way. But it's also classy.

Yeah, I'm pretty lame right now. But I feel like I'm improving.

Fuck this week.

February 1, 2008 5:52 PM

Nobody In The World Can Sculpt Harrison Ford's Face, Part 2

January 14, 2008 1:25 PM

Think like Will. Think like Will. Think like Will.

December 11, 2007 9:36 AM

I am officially the world's whiniest fanboy.

December 1, 2007 6:08 PM

Something for everyone

November 14, 2007 3:24 PM

Marion, where's Abner?

October 9, 2007 7:13 PM

The golden age

September 10, 2007 5:15 PM

At world's end

July 29, 2007 12:23 PM

Sold

July 27, 2007 10:10 AM

Trip sevens

July 8, 2007 12:01 PM

Ladies and gentlemen... Indiana Jones

June 22, 2007 7:51 AM

All I want is a really good Indiana Jones action figure

June 18, 2007 1:39 PM

Connery's out

June 7, 2007 3:30 PM

Indiana Jones and the City of the Gods

April 26, 2007 10:36 AM

No Sallah

April 16, 2007 2:55 PM

The Tao of Lucas via the Jones

April 5, 2007 6:10 AM

The rectification of the Vuldronaii

March 16, 2007 6:22 PM

Attention Indiana Jones: Use Condoms

March 8, 2007 7:41 AM

The Kaminski equation

February 6, 2007 2:16 PM

Ford demands whip.

February 5, 2007 1:52 PM