Dream a little dream in a little dream in a little dream...

I overheard a conversation between two teenage girls today about Inception that went something like this:

Yeah, like, I haven't seen the movie yet, but I heard it was, like, really weird, but really good. It's like about these guys that can, like, go into your dreams. And they can tell you to give you a million dollars in your dream, and like, I guess you give them a million dollars in real life. And, like, you can do anything in these dreams. Like, jet skis driving on streets, and stuff. I don't know. It's kind of hard to explain. It's weird and stuff. I really want to see it.

Well, I'm not sure she quite got the plot right (or really much of anything), but I will agree that it was really good. Oddly though, the film wasn't really that weird, and that's surprisingly a good thing.

Dominic Cobb (Leonardo DiCaprio) is a new kind of intellectual property thief. With his team, he steals ideas, although not in the conventional way. Instead of breaking into a physical vault, they utilize a method of shared dreaming to enter the dreams of their mark and literally steal an idea locked in the subconscious safe of their minds. A heist of Saito (Ken Watanabe), a Japanese energy tycoon, is unsuccessful, but turns into an offer for Cobb and his gang that is just too good to pass up. Instead of a stealing ideas, they are tasked to plant one in the mind of Robert Fischer, Jr. (Cillian Murphy), the heir to a massive energy company that threatens to monopolize the entire global market if not broken up.

Part of what makes this film so entertaining is the whole heist aspect of the plot with a seemingly impossible item to steal (or in the case of Inception, to plant), an intricate plan to pull of the job, and a hand-picked team with each member having unique skills to contribute. Arthur (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) and Eames (Tom Hardy) are the point men of sorts for Cobb's team, Yusuf (Dileep Rao) is the science guy in charge of keeping them in their dream state, and Saito is the money man bank rolling the whole endeavor. Ariadne (Ellen Page) is a newcomer to this world who acts as an "architect" of dreamscapes for the team, and also provides the rookie questions that allows the movie to explain to the audience what the rules are in the dream world. As in any good heist movie, the method and plan is outlined up front and then put into play for us to watch and enjoy.

Now this being a dream movie, you'd expect things to get complicated. In some ways, it does, but unlike most films I recall delving into dreams, Christopher Nolan doesn't make this film overly complex or abstract. In the film, Cobb tests Ariadne during her recruitment to make up a maze on paper in two minutes that he can solve in one. Like this, Nolan creates a maze of sorts with dreams occurring within dreams, but keeps things linear enough that we can follow him on the journey, and with careful attention, not get lost. Questions arise, but are answerable with the rules and information laid out. Unlike other movies delving into dreams or other types of alternate states (e.g. The Matrix), Nolan doesn't get lost in obtuse philosophical ideas about conciousness and self-awareness to the point of running the movie in circles. And I think this is the beauty of Inception. It's a solvable puzzle, but leaves just enough ambiguity at the end to keep it interesting.

The musical orchestration by Hans Zimmer is quite good and complements the mood to the movie. I'm glad this didn't feel like an afterthought compared to most movie soundtracks lately. My only complaint is that the music may have been utilized too much. Hardly a second goes by that the music isn't playing in the background. Maybe it's just me, but it got a bit distracting when I became aware of it (almost like watching a Michael Bay movie and realizing how many damn shots the guy uses per scene). Still, after reading this post on the New York Times ArtsBeats blog, I was even more appreciative of the thought that went into composing the music for this film.

Every actor utilized in the film fits with their character. Suprisingly, Ellen Page may be the weakest link in the cast, but is probably related more to the fact that she still looks like a 13 year girl rather than a college-aged whiz kid. And this is, I think, the third movie in a row with Leonardo DiCaprio I've rated up in the Dangerously Cheesy level. The guy can do no wrong it seems, and Inception has convincingly erased any memory of him I had in Titanic.

I carved your name across three counties...

That's a line from the first track from Middle Cyclone by Neko Case, as she sings from the point of view of a tornado. It's an almost violent kind of song that seems to capture the intensity of a tornado as a metaphor for passionate love. Given the experience we've had with growing up around tornadoes here at the Kool-Aid Gang, it was quite awesome to pick apart the words to this song.

Somehow I avoided listening to this CD when it came out in June. Perhaps I was a bit skeptical given it's prominence at the checkout counter at Starbucks when it came out, but damn if it isn't the best album of 2009.

Dallas finally got a radio station playing music worth listening to, and I happened upon that first track, "This Tornado Loves You," on a drive home from work. I picked up the album shortly after. I'd suggest you do the same.

Check out her performance on Letterman earlier last year:

I kind of enjoyed this video about her creative process making this album, too:

This rating may be premature, and I may change my attitude towards this album after more repetitive listens, but for now, I'll go with:

Is it luck or is it destiny?

When I put together my Top 10 Movies of 2008 list earlier this month, I still hadn't seen Slumdog Millionaire.  I had heard Wild Willie heap quite a bit of praise onto the film over New Years, and after it beat out heavyweights for the Best Dramatic Motion Picture award at the Golden Globes, I was even more intrigued to know what I had missed.  Well, I just might agree with Willie on this one--I'm revising my list and placing this at number one.  

Now I haven't tried to hide the fact that I'm a sucker for romance.  It's a genre that if done right, seems to hit a deep chord that moves me in ways that no other type of film can.  This seems like it should be a natural feeling about good romantic films in general, though.  After all, what gives us the most joy in life if not love?  In Slumdog Millionaire, director Danny Boyle takes us on a journey of love in a most unconventional way. 

The film opens with a young man named Jamal being tortured by the police as they try and figure out how he cheated to get to the penultimate round of India's version of Who Wants to be a Millionaire.  Jamal is a "slumdog," a kid who grew up in the ghettos of Mumbai with the lowest social class of India's poor.  Most scientists, doctors, and lawyers couldn't even get past the 50,000 rupees stage, so how could a slumdog know so much if he didn't cheat?  Using the game show as a backdrop, Jamal tells his life story.  As a result, we learn how he came up with the correct answers and why he became a contestant on the show in the first place (hint: it wasn't for money).  

Relative newcomers Dev Patel (Jamal), Freida Pinto (Latika), and the rest of the supporting cast do a fine job in their roles.  However, this isn't a movie that relies on star power or heavy acting.  Instead, Danny Boyle keeps us riveted to the story and really is the one who makes us care about Jamal and his destiny.  Boyle is fast becoming one of the most versatile directors in the business and adept at mastering various genres of film. I've been amazed that a guy that first got noticed making such a dark movie like Trainspotting could go on to make a family-oriented film like Millions, sci-fi/horror like 28 Days Later, and now an uplifting romance picture like Slumdog Millionaire.  The original score by A.R. Rahman also has a prominent and vital role in providing a soul to the film.  The music never seems intrusive or over-the-top, yet invokes just the right amount of mood to let your own emotions take over.  I've often said in the movie reviews I write on this blog that memorable original music soundtracks are sorely missing in films these days.  Glad to see that someone remembered that great filmmaking needs great music, too.  

Now some could argue that Slumdog Millionaire, despite some of the harsh realities of Indian poverty portrayed in the film, isn't grounded in reality at all.  One might have to suspend some amount of disbelief to think that the questions posed to Jamal on the gameshow are in the exact same order as they pertain to events in his life.  One might complain that the bond between Jamal and Latika isn't properly developed.  And in some ways, I might agree with that.  Yet, the film's primary argument, that we all have a destiny, gives us the reason to believe what's going on.  This is the kind of film where I gladly buy into the central premise wholeheartedly, and check reality at the door.  In some sense, it is giving a glimpse of the true reality of the human condition, our despair and hope, anger and happiness, loss and love. It's a magical movie that can't be missed.  Maybe we do have a destiny waiting for us all.  Maybe it is written.

Love is a battlefield...

Marraige, at times, feels like a war.  After the veil of newlywed bliss falls away, we gradually see our spouses in an exposing light that didn't seem to exist before.  Odd habits, mildly annoying mannerisms, character traits that you thought would magically change once you said your "I do's."  Eventually, this leads to conflicts, and in an argument where you know all of your "enemy's" secrets, the fight can get quite ugly.  When we overcome our natural instincts to protect our pride and insecurities, these conflicts can bring out the best of us.  But more often it draws out the basest feelings that hide in our soul. It's this sort of personal understanding that makes watching Revolutionary Road so painful.

In the original book the film was adapted from, Richard Yates succintly sums up the sheer ugliness of marital discord in describing a fight the main protaganists Frank and Alice Wheeler have in the opening chapter:

Then the fight went out of control. It quivered their arms and legs and wrenched their faces into shapes of hatred, it urged them harder and deeper into each other's weak points, showing them cunning ways around each other's strongholds and quick chances to switch tactics, feint, and strike again. In the space of a gasp for breath it sent their memories racing back over the years for weapons to rip the scabs off old wounds; it went on and on.

The entire movie feels something like this.  I felt myself almost wincing throughout just waiting for the whole disastrous relationship to finally fall apart.  It's like watching a race knowing the mechanic sabotaged the car, or like a horror movie except the terror comes from wondering what issues Frank and Alice are dealing with that will ring too true to real life and reflect something I've faced in my own marital life.

The Wheelers are portrayed as the perfect American couple.  Frank with his comfortable city desk job, Alice with her comfortable homemaker role, two cute children, perfect picture-window house--all a facade hiding a much more troubled pair who feel trapped in an ordinary world of suburban conformity.  The unfortunate thing is that they can't come to the honest conclusion that perhaps they aren't as extraordinary as they think they are.  And maybe they aren't as in love as they think they are.  Real life comes too quickly for them.  An accidental pregnancy forces them to marry early.  Practicality forces them to move out of the excitement of the city and into the suburbs.  Even when they finally decide to escape their mediocre life and move to Paris, reality still  seems to get in their way.  It's a universal obstacle we all face, coming to grips with the loss of the freedom and fun of married life before the realities of economics and responsibility set in.

The movie actually doesn't offer much in the way of redeeming qualities for either of the Wheelers, and it's a bit of clever casting, I think, that gets us to actually empathize with them.  After all, what love story do most of us know better than Kate and Leo from Titanic?  It's like we go into the theater already feeling like we know their backstory and all the romance that led up to their pairing.  All the better to get us watching so that it can all be torn apart.  Kate Winslet won the Golden Globe for her role last night as the wife coming to the realization that her life isn't what she wanted it to be, and I can understand why.  Even Leonardo DiCaprio, who has steadily improved his acting skills with each new movie he makes, comes out with a very believable interpretation of a guy with lofty words trying to hide a fear of inadequacy.  The adaptation as a whole seems to stay true to the source material, and Sam Mendes direction seems flawless.  

This is definitely not a movie to see if you're having major marital problems.  It paints a rather bleak picture about marraige, and gives us no glimmer of hope anything good that comes out of that bond.   I left Revolutionary Road feeling like I had seen perhaps one of the best movies of 2009, yet at the same time felt almost afraid to discuss much about it with my spouse afterwards because perhaps too much of it hit too close to home.  It's an ugly movie--and oddly I mean that in a very good way.

Holy sequels, Batman!

Wow. At 3 AM after viewing a midnight showing of The Dark Knight, that's all I could think to say this morning. Not only is this the greatest film adaptation of Batman ever made, it may now be the benchmark of what any comic-book movie should be. It's smart, moody, tense, suspenseful, exciting, multilayered--everything you'd want not only in a summer blockbuster popcorn flick, but also an intelligent film that does not require any suspension of disbelief. It's exactly what we'd always hoped for when we dreamed of our favorite comic book heroes coming to life on the silver screen.

The Dark Knight takes place about where Batman Begins left off. Gotham is still a haven for mob bosses, and crooked cops, but the tide seems to be turning. Batman (Christian Bale) has put fear into criminals who now think twice about their deeds as they prowl the streets at night, and new uncorruptable district attorney, Harvey Dent (Aaron Eckhart), has publicly declared that he and the citizens of Gotham have the ability to reclaim their city. He is the "White Knight" that the city truly wants, the handsome photogenic hero that doesn't create any moral quandaries like the outlaw vigilante actions of The Dark Knight. This gives Bruce Wayne perhaps a glimmer of hope that he might be able to hang up his cape and cowl to lead a more normal life that has room for his childhood love, Rachel Dawes (Maggie Glyllenhaal). Evil always lurks in the shadows, however, and this time it's in the form of the Joker (Heath Ledger), a representative of true chaos and anarchy whose acts of crime and violence seem to have no clear purpose at all except as some sort of odd social experiment.

So much has been written about Heath Ledger's performance, and I won't add much more here. The hype regarding a possible post-humous Oscar is quite real. He lives the role of the Joker in a way that's almost a bit scary and creates a Joker that is a pure embodiment of the insanity that you feel reading any of Frank Miller's work on the comic book versions of Batman. Christian Bale, too, performs well not only in creating the imposing figure that is Batman, but also seems to be quite able to turn a complete 180 in shaping the playboy aloofness of Bruce Wayne. Michael Caine as Alfred and Morgan Freeman as Lucius Fox round out a supporting cast that is dependably strong. Even the replacement of Katie Holmes with Maggie Glyllenhaal was a nice change (although still a somewhat underdeveloped character). What surprised me the most, though, was the strength of Aaron Eckhart's role as Harvey Dent and the importance his character had in the entire movie. His evolution from pristine and heroic D.A. to what we all know ends up as Two Face is very true to what he was in the comic books, and very symbolic of the entire theme of the movie--that the line between good and evil, hero and villain, self-sacrifice and self-preservation is very fine and easily crossed given the right situation.

Also what I found good about this film was how they started to highlight Batman's intelligence and forensic capabilities--a true detective in the spirit of the original comics. In addition, you get to see how he continually tries to find ways to adapt and utilize technology in a way that's not over-the-top and distracting. It's all small glimpses of what we always read and see in the comic books that got my geeky heart all in a flutter. And if that weren't enough, they managed to throw in a bit of 007 with Lucius Fox in the role of Q Branch, and Bruce Wayne filling in for James Bond. Very cool.

The score, with some sustained off-kilter strings, really seem to heighten up the tension to the point you almost feel like those strings are about to break. At times, I thought I was watching an art house film, which is a good thing in my book.

My previous benchmark for the comic book hero genre of films has always been Superman. The Dark Knight will probably go down in my opinion as equal or even superior, but I think I'll have to give it a few years to breathe to see how time will effect my thoughts on this. What's interesting to me, though, is as I say that, you realize how polar opposite the movies Superman and The Dark Knight are. Perhaps that's the joy of watching these two films and comparing them. In the comic books, Superman and Batman are either portrayed as good friends in the fight against evil, but other times as foils in their opinions of what truth and justice really is. And in that same vein, these two films are quite different. Superman's way of bringing about justice is clean, Batman's is quite dirty and hard to stomach. It's as if you're asking the audience which camp you fall into. There's no clear right or wrong.

This has been a great summer for comic book movies. Iron Man raised the bar early in the summer, The Incredible Hulk kind of simmered, and now The Dark Knight has pushed it way up into the stratosphere. How Christopher Nolan is going to top himself in the third installment seems to be quite the challenge (and almost impossible)--I can't wait.

I don't care if you have little kiddos to watch at home. Get a babysitter. The Dark Knight is worth it.

Vegetables are good for you...

I'm not exactly known for my conversation skills, as I'm sure the Kool-Aid Gang could easily attest to. Perhaps this is why I spend so much time on this blog. Thoughts and words I could just as easily speak are sometimes easier to let out in writing or typed out on a computer. I don't know if this is a product of my personal insecurities, my obsessive-compulsiveness, or a combination of both. The fear that my spontaneous words will somehow come off as dumb, ignorant, or insulting sometimes get the best of me, and I feel more comfortable with the ability to think about my thoughts and to use a medium that's easily edited before I release it to people around me. But the power of the spoken word is something I probably take for granted, as I realized while watching The Diving Bell and the Butterfly.

The film tells the story of Jean-Dominique Bauby, the editor of French Elle magazine in the 90's after he suffers an acute stroke that leaves him "locked-in, " unable to speak or move except for the residual ability to blink his left eye. Much of the film is told in a sort of voice-over from the perspective of Bauby himself. We can hear (and at times, see) his thoughts as he reacts to his predicament and observations. Used to the high life of fashion, art, and beautiful women, he's now left somewhat disfigured and initially without any means to communicate except for a simple yes or no with one or two blinks of his functioning eye. Eventually, Bauby learns to accept his condition. With the help of a caring speech therapist, he learns to convey his thoughts via a tedious method of someone going through a rearranged alphabet with the most used letters coming first until hitting on the letters he needs to spell out a word. This method allows him not only to "talk" to his friends and family, but also to write a book about what he's learned.

Rather than creating a predictable journey in which the glamorous playboy learns the error of his ways and makes amends for his sins by the end of the movie, The Diving Bell and Butterfly avoids such canonization. Via flashbacks and visitations from people from his life, we learn that Bauby had a pretty full life before his event.  For the most part, he has no regrets, and still retains some of the flaws that plagued his love life even before his life-altering stroke.  Celine, the mother of his children, continues to stay with Jean-Do until his death despite the fact that he still yearns for the lover he left her for to come and visit him.   By the end of the movie, you get a sense that life is precious and imagination is powerful. Jean-Do, in his physical state, is like a man trapped in a diving bell being dragged down into the depths of the sea. Yet his love of life allows him to flutter outside of himself to escape and truly experience the joys still around him.

This is not a conventional "feel-good" kind of movie, but I think you'll come out of it appreciating life a bit more.

Touched by the hand of Bono...

The word for the day is "3D."


Back during our freshman year of college, Wild Willie, Fandango, and I drove down to Houston to see U2 in concert at the Astrodome.  The seats were of the nosebleed variety and I think there was even a support column somewhat blocking our sightline to the stage.  Needless to say, our tickets kind of sucked (although I still have Wankmaster Scratch's unused one in a scrapbook somewhere).  U2, though, didn't disappoint, and even though we couldn't see much, the concert itself was awesome.

I've never had the chance to see U2 live again.  I was mighty disappointed that I couldn't snag tickets to their latest Vertigo tour last year, but U2 3D may be the next best thing.  Seeing anything on an IMAX screen in traditional two dimensions is always a treat and usually breathtaking.  IMAX in 3D?  Wow.  In some ways, U2 3D is better than being at a live concert.  Shots of Adam Clayton almost stabbing you in the heart with the tip of his bass, feeling like you're sitting right next to the Edge as if you could help him strum that guitar, watching Larry Mullen tear it up on the drums, Bono literally trying to reach out and wipe the tears from your eyes.  Spotlights seem to to bathe you in light, smoke literally moves out of the screen and surrounds you--it's pretty amazing stuff.

Interspersed throughout the movie are shots from the vantage point of the audience, complete with the occasional screaming fan that come into your view.  At times, it really does feel like you're a part of the crowd.  The experience is so lively, in fact, that you almost can't help but feel the urge to wave your hands around, clap, scream, jump around--maybe you're supposed to, but it feels kind of strange to do such things in a movie theater.

At times the 3D effects aren't perfect.  There's a rare moment when things still look flat, appear like those silhouetted audience members from Mystery Science Theater 3000, or look like those old school 3D panorama toys we all used to have with the little lever on the side to advance the circular film wheel.  The majority of the time, though, it's just plain awesome!   U2 performing classics like "Where the Streets Have No Name," "Sunday Bloody Sunday," and "Pride (In the Name of Love)" will always get the adrenaline pumping, and in the lively atmosphere of the Buenos Aires stadium where this movie was filmed, it's even more of a rush.

I don't know when I'll ever get the chance to see the greatest band of our time live in concert again.  My wife never has, and it's still on her "things to do before [she] dies" list, so I'm sure we'll figure out someway to see them, even if Bono is rolling out onto stage rather than jumping.  Until then, U2 3D will do.  It will do nicely.

Oil flows through his veins, and his heart is as black as crude...

Daniel Day-Lewis has a reputation for being one of the most intense method actors in the business, often completely turning himself into his character on and off the set for months until filming is complete.  The end result is typically a chameleon-like performance that's completely unique from his previous work. With most actors, you find yourself seeing the same mannerisms and dramatic crutches being used over and over throughout any of their roles (Tom Cruise comes to mind), but not so with Day-Lewis. You won't find any remnants of Christy Brown (My Left Foot) mixed in with Hawkeye (The Last of the Mohicans). Danny Flynn (The Boxer) is nothing like the Bill the Butcher (Gangs of New York).  It's amazing he's only got one Oscar to his name, but I think his performance in There Will Be Blood has a good shot of earning him a second one. 

Written and directed by Paul Thomas Anderson and loosely based on a novel by Upton Sinclair, There Will Be Blood follows the rise of Daniel Plainview, who takes a humble sum of money earned from mining gold and silver, and turns it into a fortune during the hey-day of U.S. oil prospecting in the early twentieth century.  A fortuitous (or perhaps ominous) lead moves Plainview further west to take advantage of the sea of oil underneath yet untapped parcels of land in California.  The poor inhabitants of the area, who can't even make bread because the arid conditions prevent them from raising viable crops, are more than happy to sell their properties to Plainview.  The only resistance comes from Eli Sunday, an evangelist looking to get more money out of Plainview for his church.  And that's the basics of the plot.  

I'm not sure what most of you think of P.T. Anderson's previous works, but I happen to be a fan.  He's never formulaic, and always original.  You might even catch a little of his previous films in this movie.  A exuberant sermon by Sunday almost seems a mirror image of Tom Cruise's "respect the cock" diatribe in Magnolia.  Kind of humorous to think how these two scenes were so different, yet so similar.

There Will Be Blood, isn't so much driven by the story, though.  It's more about character development, as we watch how Daniel Plainview struggles with his greed.  An orphan child named H.W., whom Plainview adopts early on in the film, seems to be the force trying to pull him to a more righteous way of thought.  Ironically, Eli Sunday pulls him in the opposite direction, almost goading him to give in to his base instincts.  The preacher as the devil isn't such a new concept, but the subtle way that this develops is genius.  

The orchestral arrangements are chilling, reminiscent of something you'd find in a horror movie rather than a drama about oil.  Somehow, though, in the context of the film, it works.  Daniel Plainview seems to be slowly devolving and overwhelmed by his own personal demons until the very end when he succumbs to the ultimate act of greed.  It's a horrific journey, and makes sense that the musical accompaniment would convey this.

Finally, I have to end by saying Daniel Day-Lewis truly gives the performance of the year.  It's worth catching this movie purely for the enjoyment of watching a true master at work.  He's a pretty choosy actor that seems to make a movie about as often as Haley's Comet comes around, so you should always check him out when you can.  If he doesn't get the Oscar for Best Actor this year, you'll have been a witness to one of the greatest robberies in recent history.

No, not that town in Alaska...

Sometimes I read the buzz that heaps all sorts of praise and hype on a movie before it gets released.  I build up all sorts of anticipation until its premiere, but then come out of the theater feeling mighty disappointed.  Juno, the sophmore effort by young director Jason Reitman, was one such film. Yet instead of coming out feeling like I didn't quite get my money's worth, I walked out with a smile on my face and a warm, fuzzy feeling of contentment.

Juno (Ellen Page) is a wise-cracking teenage girl, although probably not quite as wise as she thinks, who gets pregnant after a spontaneous fling with her friend Paulie (Michael Cera). Perhaps too disgusted by the mediocrity of the abortion clinic yet fully aware that she's in no position to raise a baby, she finds the seemingly perfect surbabanite couple (Jason Bateman, Jennifer Garner) to adopt her unborn child.

I'm not sure what's up with the theme of pregnant single women this year (Knocked Up, Waitress), but Juno is probably the best of the three.  My wife called this a cross between a couple of lower budget non-mainstream movies of late. I guess I can see that. Juno is a bit quirky and cool in that "it's so nerdy it's hip" kind of way in the vein of Napolean Dynamite and still manages to throw in a heartwarming story like Little Miss Sunshine.  It isn't much of a stretch to think that yellow running shorts and wristbands will be the cool costume for this year and orange Tic-Tacs will be the quirky romantic gift come Valentine's Day.  Yet I think it would sell this movie short to call it a hybrid of those two films, as if this followed some formula.  The movie almost falls over on itself in the opening scenes only because the dialogue threatens to be too cool to be taken seriously.  Yet somehow, the story manages to let up from this crutch and turns into a funny and charming story about growing up and teenage love.  

Ellen Page has a bright future ahead of her. I thought she was spot-on cast as Kitty Pride in X-Men: The Last Stand, and was might impressed with her innocent teen turned castrating vigilante in Hard Candy. I don't think it's that crazy to say that she probably even deserves an Oscar nod for her performance in Juno. If this is the kind of resume she's building, I can't wait to see what she's in next.

In a year that's been somewhat forgettable cinematically, I was pleased that 2007 wrapped up with a gem like this.  Juno is probably the best movie of the year.  

More human than human is our motto...

Blade Runner: The Final Cut made its way to Dallas this week. When it first premiered, I wasn't even a decade old. I'm not even sure I was aware Blade Runner even existed that summer (and probably wouldn't have been that interested in it anyway at that point in my life). Instead, like most kids my age, I was wrapped up in E.T. mania and eating Reese's Pieces every chance I got that year. Some years later with the advent of VHS and the influence of a couple of members of this Kool-Aid Gang, I eventually got the urge to watch Blade Runner. It has since become a true favorite of mine that has continued to be engrossing with every repeat viewing. E.T. now seems like a distant fond memory--a classic movie of my youth that has just sort of stayed there. Over the years, though, Blade Runner has grown to a true work of art that will live with me for sometime to come. 25 years after its initial release, I'm still trying to wrestle with the central theme of the film--what it is that makes us all truly human. Blade Runner presents a bleak future where the world seems so polluted and crowded as if humanity is being choked out of existence. The only people in the film who care about life and seem truly human at all, end up being replicants. The Final Cut release puts to rest any doubt about Deckard--he's the most human character in the movie, and even he's a replicant.  It's our recognition of our mortality that truly makes us what we are, and no one seems to understand that more than the "skin-jobs" who are literally facing death with every minute they breathe.

Despite it's age, this new version of Blade Runner plays like a modern new release.  The special effects and the cinematography seem almost ageless.  Even Harrison Ford, with his short cropped hair, fits in with the modern trends of fashionable men today.  Sean Young is mesmerizing, which makes me baffled as to how her career turned out to be so unimpressive over the years.  News was that the entire film was re-edited, re-touched, and even re-shot in some places (which I'll have to admit, I had a hard time picking out other than the Zhora chase scene which has now eliminated any remnant of the John Hall from Hall and Oates-looking stunt double of the original cut).  The Vangelis musical score is beautiful, and sounds completely fresh in the big screen setting.

Although Blade Runner: The Final Cut comes out on DVD later this month, I think it's a shame that it's not getting a wider release in the movie theaters.  If it's out near you, be sure to make time to catch it at least once.  This is the definitive version.

A flurry of movie reviews for your procrastinating pleasure...

I've managed to watch a flurry of movies over the past few weeks given my monk-like existence living by myself, and I've gotten quite behind in throwing my Cheetos of endorsement to some mighty good flicks this season.

First up, No Country For Old Men. This may be the best movie of 2007. This film seems a bit less quirky than most of Joel and Ethan Coen's earlier works, but still holds up to the fine quality of moviemaking we're all accustomed to from them. Based on a book by Cormac McCarthy (whose prose doesn't easily lend itself to movie adaptations), No Country For Old Men follows Llewelyn Moss (Josh Brolin), a nobody guy hunting on the plains of west Texas who stumbles upon a Mexican drug deal gone bad and ends up with a briefcase full of cash. Hot on his trail is Anton Chigurh (Javier Bardem), a hired bounty hunter who seems to embody the devil himself, seemingly having no one to answer to except fate itself. Throw in a gang of Mexican drug dealers trying to recover their money, and a Tommy Lee Jones as the local sheriff trying to keep Moss out of trouble, and the entire mess becomes a bloodbath where you're not really sure what's lurking around the corner.

If for nothing else, this movie is worth watching strictly for Javier Bardem. This may be one of the scariest villains on film in quite some time, ranking up there with Jack Nicholson in The Shining or Anthony Hopkins as Hannibal Lecter in Silence of the Lambs. You may never feel comfortable around a tank of compressed gas again. And if Bardem doesn't get an Oscar for his performance, I can truly say he got robbed. The Coen Brothers manage to use only lighting, camera angles, and some strategic moments of sustained silence that will keep you on edge for the entire movie--all of this with nary a soundtrack to use as a crutch.

What's the central theme of this film? I'm not quite sure, other than an exploration of evil, and the influences of fate that seemingly have no bearing on whether we are good people or bad. There are forces of nature that exist that we can't control which will kill you or allow you to live with seemingly no reason at all other than the a flip of a coin. Like Cormac McCarthy's books, it takes some time to really digest the deeper meaning of it all, and I haven't yet had the time to figure it all out. Still, if you want a movie to chew around for awhile, this one is it.

*******

Next up--Beowulf. Beowulf was one of those epic poems I actually enjoyed reading back in high school. Telling the tale of an ancient hero slaying monsters and dragons, I'm surprised it hasn't got the high-dollar Hollywood treatment before. I was actually a bit hesitant to see this, though, given the use of that motion capture animation Robert Zemeckis has grown so fond of. I guess it's sort of cool to be able to manipulate actors at will using this technology. How else to get Anthony Hopkins to cavort around in nothing but a sheet in a beer hall, give Ray Winstone six-pack abs, and get Angelina Jolie to show full frontal nudity? Still, just a brief glimpse in those animated eyes gives you a soulless body staring back at you, which is kind of freaky.

The action, though, is top notch, and you don't need much in the way of soulful eyes to ramp up those types of scenes. The kinetic scenes alone probably saves me from giving this a "Stale" rating on the Kool-Aid Gang Cheetos scale. Given the freedom of computer animation, the laws of physics can be thrown out the window to provide the means to have epic-sized battles between mere men and dragons that will get your heart rate pumping along. And because it's all in 3-D, I managed to give it a pass on those animated zombie eyes, and stepped up it's rating just a bit. But watch this movie without the those special glasses, and I'll call this movie kind of "Bland."

*******

Finally, to round out my backlog of good films to review--Before the Devil Knows You're Dead. There's nothing spectacular about this movie about a simple jewelry heist that goes terribly wrong, but it's a good drama nonetheless. The beginning scene, watching Philip Seymour Hoffman's naked white chubby ass having doggy-style sex with a very naked and beautiful Marisa Tomei kind of puts you in an awkward situation, not knowing whether you're enjoying what you're watching or not. It's seems wholly out of place, a pairing that seems to be totally mismatched, and almost seems to be foreshadowing the whole clusterfuck that's about to happen.

Everyone in this cast has "Academy Award Winner" or "Academy Award Nominee" attached to his or her resume, so it goes without saying that the performances are great. Nothing that will get more Oscar credentials for them with the next Academy Awards, but good nonetheless. This is one of those movies that probably would play just as well in the comfort of your home on DVD as it did on the big screen.