If you have ever had the pleasure of hanging out with me while drunk, chances are good that you've heard this story before. Still many of you may have not, and I been wanting to write this one down for years.
The story that follows is one of the most (and quite possibly THE most) awkward moments in my life. And like all great uncomfortable moments it involves family.
The evening started innocently enough. I was out at mom's house visiting. As per usual we had been chatting for quite some time. Any number of subjects had been covered as me and mom are both easily distracted when it comes to conversation. More often than not random thoughts, and side conversations, wound up taking center stage. At least until the next random thought or shiny object. Somehow we ended up touching upon the idea of brainwashing as a form of control. A which mom dropped a reference to the film "A Clockwork Orange". This admittedly caught my attention for two reasons. One, while I had heard of "A Clockwork Orange" before, I had never actually seen the film. My mom had just name dropped one of those movies that most film-geeks get disturbingly orgasmic about when anybody brings it up. Which brings us to the second reason this caught my interest, I was VERY into movies at the time. Especially when the film had the potential to get really dark. I suddenly very much wanted to see the film. This would prove to be an exceptionally bad idea.
Now before I go any further let me clarify something, "A Clockwork Orange" is a very good film. It is very dark, and at times overly artsy, but still a good film. At it's most basic level it's a film about a truly horrible young man living in a rather hellish near-future. Eventually he is captured and brainwashed so he won't be so much of a threat to the surrounding populous. It is quite a good film, and I would recommend seeing it some day if you haven't already. That being said, never, and I repeat never watch the film with family members.
With our unfortunate course set we sent Bob out to rent the film (Ah... The days before Netflix.) and pick up a pizza for dinner. Upon his return we put the pizza in the oven, and began to start the film. At this very moment grandmother walked into the room and very cordially asked if we were about to watch a film. To which we both said, "Yes, would you like to pull up a seat and join us?"
To which she replied, "I'd be delighted!"
So there we are. Our little subsection of the nuclear family all gathered around the tv ready for an evening of family entertainment. (Now that I think about it I find it slightly odd that Bob wasn't there with us. He may have known better.) Again if you've already seen the film you are probably already cringing, but if you haven't allow me to explain why this whole scene was so bad.
As I mentioned earlier the film is centered around a horrible young man in a horrible world. Well since the audience didn't yet know how disgusting this guy was yet the film needed to show us. So the opening moments of the film are this young man and his friends (i.e. gang) involved in all manner of bad things. Beatings, b&e, and perhaps the most vile rape. All of these scenes happen to be set to a background soundtrack composed mostly of classical music. Every frame of it is deeply unsettling, and uncomfortable.
And I'm sitting there not three feet away from both my mother and grandmother.
At roughly the same moment me and mom realized that we had made a horrible mistake. We both began to look around like wild animals looking for a way out of a cage we had just found ourselves to be trapped in. Now at this moment you may be wondering why we didn't just get up and press stop on the damn VCR? While that is a perfectly rational option, neither me nor mom were feeling particularly rational at the moment. No, it would be safe to say that the two of us were locked in a blind panic. Both of us knew that this was a bad place to be in, but our minds couldn't get us out of it.
Grandmother, for her part, just sat there being as prim and proper as she had ever been in her entire life.
In many ways that was the worst part. Here was this woman from a very different generation. A southern belle in almost every meaning of the phrase. A woman who could be disapproving of the amount of violence in children's cartoons, suddenly found herself watching one of the most disturbing openings that I have ever seen in a film. And. She. Just. Calmly. Sat. There.
I knew that at any moment one of us was going to break. The tension in the room was just too thick. Up until this moment none of us had been able to speak. I don't think any of us knew quite what to say. Honestly, I don't think I was capable of speech. Still the moment had to come, and it did with the next scene.
The next scene involved our gang invading a home, beating a husband, and raping the wife. All the while our "hero" is singing an impromptu rendition of "Singing in the Rain". Just like everything that had happened before this would have been incredibly uncomfortable to watch alone, let alone with two earlier generations of family members, but to make matters worse it was at that exact moment that grandmother decided to break the silence of the audience. She simply turned to my mother and me, and just as sincerely as she could muster said, "Well at least the music is very nice."
I think at that very moment my brain said, "Fuck this! I'm going to Hawaii!" and then proceeded to crawl out through my ear and go to Hawaii. I instantly jumped up, stopped the movie, and said, "Oh hey! Look at the time. I should really get home. I'll just take the movie with me." No one argued with that idea.
Mom later confessed that while she had seen the movie before she had no memory of the opening scenes. Otherwise she never would have suggested that we should all watch it together.
I never talked with grandmother about that night ever again. In fairness she never brought it up either.
So that's the story. If it didn't seem that odd or awkward to you, well maybe you just had to be there.
Friday, November 22, 2013
Friday, June 7, 2013
Impressions of Joss Whedon's Adaptation of "Much Ado About Nothing"
Attempting to review Shakespeare is in many ways a useless proposition. By this point anyone with any interest in the bard's body of work has read the all plays as well as read analyses and critiques written by people much smarter and better informed than myself. People have devoted their lives to the man's works. Most think Shakespeare was a genius. Some think he was the greatest writer to ever have lived. I personally think he has been somewhat overrated.
Now before you begin calling for my head on a pike, allow me to clarify that statement a little bit. I do think Shakespeare was wonderfully ahead of his time. (If you don't believe me, try to read the works of his contemporaries.) But his stories, while solid, rarely capture my imagination. Using "Much Ado" as an example many plot devices seem a bit too shoehorned in to feel truly authentic. (It's either poor storytelling, or Claudio is the most bi-polar bastard ever.) In my opinion Shakespeare's works are only so fondly remembered because the man did two things really, really well; he created strong memorable characters and he crafted some of the best dialogue ever put to page. Think about it for a moment. When you think of Shakespeare what comes to mind first? The characters? The dialogue? Or the story? I'm willing to bet most of you would have chose one of the first two options.
Does this mean I dislike Shakespeare's work? Not at all. I'm a big believer in focusing on your strengths, and letting those strengths carry the bulk of the work. Need further proof? Alright, how about this. Joss Whedon is one of my favorite writer directors working today. I say this with no reservations what so ever, and yet... Every single critique I just lay against Shakespeare I could just as easily lay against Whedon as well. Like Shakespeare, Whedon's talents are in creating and understanding strong memorable characters and giving them fantastic things to say. As such I feel that Whedon is perhaps one of the best currently working directors to attempt to bring Shakespeare's work to the big screen.
Now that I've gotten all that out of the way, I can say that "Much Ado About Nothing" is the best film representation of Shakespeare I've ever seen. It may be the best Shakespeare I've ever seen, period.
A big part of that proclamation comes directly from Whedon's third major talent. Casting. I don't know how the man casts his actors, but whatever he does works really, really well. Everyone of his projects has featured amazingly talented ensemble casts. And Much Ado's cast list reads like a "best of" list of Whedon's previous works. Never before have I seen a cast of actors feel so utterly comfortable with the language. Every time I've every seen Shakespeare performed before this, there has always been the sense that the actor is simply trying to force out the line so that s/he can get to the next line. Either that or actors often feel the need to make the language feel "big" and "grand" and "dramatic" even though often times the actual scene is fairly mundane. Not so here. In fact there was a magical moment for me about 10 minutes into the film where I simply stopped noticing the language. It stopped being a conceit of the script and simply became the world and the language of the characters. This is an amazing achievement.
As good as the entire cast is, I feel the need to point out two actors for being absolute stand outs. Amy Acker as Beatrice and Fran Kranz as Claudio. If I co(uld gush like a total fan boy for a second let me just say that Amy Acker deserves to be far more famous than she actually is. The woman has been absolutely rock solid in everything I've ever seen her in, and here she absolutely takes to Shakespeare's dialogue like a duck to water. She absolutely nails it. And Kranz, well Kranz almost made me forget what a horrible twit Claudio is. He almost made Claudio a compelling character. This might sound like a back-handed compliment, but I assure you it is not. Claudio is a horrible person that we are supposed to somehow be cheering for. I have always hated Claudio, so it is much to Kranz's credit that I actually found myself liking the character despite myself.
There is a lot to like in this film. However it is not perfect. As I mentioned before I don't always feel that Shakespeare is the best storyteller, and in this like his other comedies everything just ends a bit too perfectly a bit too easily for my tastes. The dialogue also sometimes comes at odds with the modern day setting. (A prince and a duke at a southern California dinner party? Really?) Also Whedon occasionally gets a bit too artistic for his own good. (Why does that scene on the poster happen in the lake?)
In the end I feel that Much Ado About Nothing is much like my earlier descriptions of it's creators Shakespeare and Whedon. There are flaws, but the strengths are so strong that you probably won't even notice them.
Now before you begin calling for my head on a pike, allow me to clarify that statement a little bit. I do think Shakespeare was wonderfully ahead of his time. (If you don't believe me, try to read the works of his contemporaries.) But his stories, while solid, rarely capture my imagination. Using "Much Ado" as an example many plot devices seem a bit too shoehorned in to feel truly authentic. (It's either poor storytelling, or Claudio is the most bi-polar bastard ever.) In my opinion Shakespeare's works are only so fondly remembered because the man did two things really, really well; he created strong memorable characters and he crafted some of the best dialogue ever put to page. Think about it for a moment. When you think of Shakespeare what comes to mind first? The characters? The dialogue? Or the story? I'm willing to bet most of you would have chose one of the first two options.
Does this mean I dislike Shakespeare's work? Not at all. I'm a big believer in focusing on your strengths, and letting those strengths carry the bulk of the work. Need further proof? Alright, how about this. Joss Whedon is one of my favorite writer directors working today. I say this with no reservations what so ever, and yet... Every single critique I just lay against Shakespeare I could just as easily lay against Whedon as well. Like Shakespeare, Whedon's talents are in creating and understanding strong memorable characters and giving them fantastic things to say. As such I feel that Whedon is perhaps one of the best currently working directors to attempt to bring Shakespeare's work to the big screen.
Now that I've gotten all that out of the way, I can say that "Much Ado About Nothing" is the best film representation of Shakespeare I've ever seen. It may be the best Shakespeare I've ever seen, period.
A big part of that proclamation comes directly from Whedon's third major talent. Casting. I don't know how the man casts his actors, but whatever he does works really, really well. Everyone of his projects has featured amazingly talented ensemble casts. And Much Ado's cast list reads like a "best of" list of Whedon's previous works. Never before have I seen a cast of actors feel so utterly comfortable with the language. Every time I've every seen Shakespeare performed before this, there has always been the sense that the actor is simply trying to force out the line so that s/he can get to the next line. Either that or actors often feel the need to make the language feel "big" and "grand" and "dramatic" even though often times the actual scene is fairly mundane. Not so here. In fact there was a magical moment for me about 10 minutes into the film where I simply stopped noticing the language. It stopped being a conceit of the script and simply became the world and the language of the characters. This is an amazing achievement.
As good as the entire cast is, I feel the need to point out two actors for being absolute stand outs. Amy Acker as Beatrice and Fran Kranz as Claudio. If I co(uld gush like a total fan boy for a second let me just say that Amy Acker deserves to be far more famous than she actually is. The woman has been absolutely rock solid in everything I've ever seen her in, and here she absolutely takes to Shakespeare's dialogue like a duck to water. She absolutely nails it. And Kranz, well Kranz almost made me forget what a horrible twit Claudio is. He almost made Claudio a compelling character. This might sound like a back-handed compliment, but I assure you it is not. Claudio is a horrible person that we are supposed to somehow be cheering for. I have always hated Claudio, so it is much to Kranz's credit that I actually found myself liking the character despite myself.
There is a lot to like in this film. However it is not perfect. As I mentioned before I don't always feel that Shakespeare is the best storyteller, and in this like his other comedies everything just ends a bit too perfectly a bit too easily for my tastes. The dialogue also sometimes comes at odds with the modern day setting. (A prince and a duke at a southern California dinner party? Really?) Also Whedon occasionally gets a bit too artistic for his own good. (Why does that scene on the poster happen in the lake?)
In the end I feel that Much Ado About Nothing is much like my earlier descriptions of it's creators Shakespeare and Whedon. There are flaws, but the strengths are so strong that you probably won't even notice them.
On My Way to See "Much Ado About Nothing"
I have been living in California for almost three and a half years now. In that time, I haven't gotten out much. Actually, that's not entirely fair. I go to movies, I go out to eat, I go out to buy other random shit. What I don't typically do is go anywhere that requires me to drive more than 30 minutes. The problem is that I really don't like driving all that much. The idea of spending more time in the car than doing whatever is at the destination makes me frustrated on the best days. On the worst days it leaves me bitter and angry. This unfortunate outlook on life often leaves me with an incredibly narrow view of what California has to offer. With this in mind, you can imagine my irritation at the discovery that the only showing of Joss Whedon's adaptation of Shakespeare's "Much Ado About Nothing" that I could find in the area was about an hour and a half away in Hollywood. Was a movie, even a movie by one of my favorite directors and cast full of favored actors, really worth that amount of time from my day? In the end, I felt that that it was worth my time. Everything that followed really helps to illustrate the pros and cons of venturing out of my little comfort zone, and into the areas that most others think of when they hear the word California.
The first order of business was to decide on a route to take to the theater. Most navigation programs would suggest taking I-15 (my closest interstate) to the 91. This is the point that I give these programs the middle finger, and a few choice expletives, while immediately looking for alternate routes. This reaction probably confuses some of you, so allow me to explain.
In Dante Alighieri's Inferno, the author very vividly described 9 levels of hell and the unique tortures and horrors that called each individual level home. None were what you might describe as "pleasant" and they kept getting progressively worse with each descending level, with the 9th level being the worst. I maintain that had Dante Alighieri lived in the modern day, California state road 91 would have been the 10th level of hell.
I have NEVER had a good experience with this road. This stretch of asphalt seems to exist in a state of perpetual gridlock. Every time I have been on it, at least an extra hour has been added to my time on the road. I am actually convinced that this road is some kind of sadistic experiment on the effects of road rage on the average driver. I hate this road.
Lucky for me there was another route.
After a pretty uneventful drive (because I didn't take the 91 no doubt) and some mild confusion as to where to park, I finally arrived at the theater. The name of the theater was the "ArcLight Hollywood". I only mention this because it is seriously one of the nicest/weirdest movie theaters I've ever been in.
Let me give you some examples of what I mean starting with the location. The theater is located on Sunset Blvd across the street from a film school. (Probably why they got the film in the first place, teachers are going to love dissecting it.) That's not really that odd, and is probably quite convenient. What I did find odd however was what shared the same physical building as the theater; a gym and a freaking culinary cooking school. The gym I understand. Gyms show up everywhere. People love their weights and spandex. But a culinary cooking school? That's new for me. I have to wonder if these four businesses ever do some kind of crazy cross promotion extravaganza. If they do I bet it's amazing.
After I got done puzzling over the bizarre juxtaposition of businesses I finally entered the theater proper and was met with a few more oddities that I never seen/associated with a movie theater. Directly in front of me was the normal ticket counter. Okay nothing odd there. Looking to my left there was a coffee shop. I have to admit, that while I've never seen a coffee shop in a theater before, the idea is fantastic. Seriously, an cool dark theater with a warm cup of joe sounds like an amazing combination to me. (And I hate coffee!) So I found the coffee shop be odd but strangely welcome. I can't exactly say the same for what was next to the coffee shop.
Directly to the right of the coffee shop was a gift shop. At first I thought this was another stroke of genius. After all with the sheer amount of movie tie-in related bullshit out there, what better place to buy that stuff than right where you saw the film. Not gonna lie, if I saw some really badass scifi action film and then they had really good toys for sale as I left the theater... Well let's just say my bank account is really glad they don't do this. That's right, other than one James Bond related book I didn't see a single other item in the gift shop that related to film in any way, shape, or form. Okay... Looking around just confused me even more. It seemed almost as if someone with rather eclectic tastes decided to max out their Barnes and Noble credit card, put it all of their spoils on display, and called it a gift shop. Here are some examples of what I found in there. The previously mentioned James Bond book, several art books, a photo book of Paris, a box of pin up girl themed postcards, an amazingly well drawn (French?) anatomy book, and a hardback copy of the third collected volume of the comic book Preacher. Huh? Am I the only one confused why all of this would be located in a movie theater? Is this a California thing?
Compared to the gift shop everything else was rather mundane, if not a little unusual. It seems as though the movie theater was trying to capture the aesthetic of a stage production. For example the seats were assigned when you bought the ticket, (I was in seat L24 for those curious.) the auditorium was huge, and before the show an usher came out to lay down the house rules and introduce the film. I kept getting weird flashbacks to my time in the theatre department at college the entire time I was there.
And then of course there was the movie. I'll go into my thoughts on the movie in another post, but here's a hint. It's very good and well worth your time to go see.
All and all it was an outing I was very pleased with. Nothing really special, or amazing. But plenty of slightly odd. And slightly odd makes me smile ear to ear. Shame I still had to drive home.
Which brings me back to my initial problem with going out into California proper, it took me almost 3 hours to get back to my apartment. That was about twice as long as it took me to get out there in the first place. That means that in total today I spent about four and a half hours on the road so I could see a less than two hour long movie. That's a lot of time to spend it your car worried that some impatient asshole is going to rear end you because traffic keeps alternating between 15 and 0 mph on the freaking interstate. By the time I got back home most of my good feelings from the outing had been replaced with loathing for the roadways of California.
So in the end was it worth it? In this case? Yes. Yes it was. But sadly I'm not sure what will convince me that it is worth that kind of time in the car again.
The first order of business was to decide on a route to take to the theater. Most navigation programs would suggest taking I-15 (my closest interstate) to the 91. This is the point that I give these programs the middle finger, and a few choice expletives, while immediately looking for alternate routes. This reaction probably confuses some of you, so allow me to explain.
In Dante Alighieri's Inferno, the author very vividly described 9 levels of hell and the unique tortures and horrors that called each individual level home. None were what you might describe as "pleasant" and they kept getting progressively worse with each descending level, with the 9th level being the worst. I maintain that had Dante Alighieri lived in the modern day, California state road 91 would have been the 10th level of hell.
I have NEVER had a good experience with this road. This stretch of asphalt seems to exist in a state of perpetual gridlock. Every time I have been on it, at least an extra hour has been added to my time on the road. I am actually convinced that this road is some kind of sadistic experiment on the effects of road rage on the average driver. I hate this road.
Lucky for me there was another route.
After a pretty uneventful drive (because I didn't take the 91 no doubt) and some mild confusion as to where to park, I finally arrived at the theater. The name of the theater was the "ArcLight Hollywood". I only mention this because it is seriously one of the nicest/weirdest movie theaters I've ever been in.
Let me give you some examples of what I mean starting with the location. The theater is located on Sunset Blvd across the street from a film school. (Probably why they got the film in the first place, teachers are going to love dissecting it.) That's not really that odd, and is probably quite convenient. What I did find odd however was what shared the same physical building as the theater; a gym and a freaking culinary cooking school. The gym I understand. Gyms show up everywhere. People love their weights and spandex. But a culinary cooking school? That's new for me. I have to wonder if these four businesses ever do some kind of crazy cross promotion extravaganza. If they do I bet it's amazing.
After I got done puzzling over the bizarre juxtaposition of businesses I finally entered the theater proper and was met with a few more oddities that I never seen/associated with a movie theater. Directly in front of me was the normal ticket counter. Okay nothing odd there. Looking to my left there was a coffee shop. I have to admit, that while I've never seen a coffee shop in a theater before, the idea is fantastic. Seriously, an cool dark theater with a warm cup of joe sounds like an amazing combination to me. (And I hate coffee!) So I found the coffee shop be odd but strangely welcome. I can't exactly say the same for what was next to the coffee shop.
Directly to the right of the coffee shop was a gift shop. At first I thought this was another stroke of genius. After all with the sheer amount of movie tie-in related bullshit out there, what better place to buy that stuff than right where you saw the film. Not gonna lie, if I saw some really badass scifi action film and then they had really good toys for sale as I left the theater... Well let's just say my bank account is really glad they don't do this. That's right, other than one James Bond related book I didn't see a single other item in the gift shop that related to film in any way, shape, or form. Okay... Looking around just confused me even more. It seemed almost as if someone with rather eclectic tastes decided to max out their Barnes and Noble credit card, put it all of their spoils on display, and called it a gift shop. Here are some examples of what I found in there. The previously mentioned James Bond book, several art books, a photo book of Paris, a box of pin up girl themed postcards, an amazingly well drawn (French?) anatomy book, and a hardback copy of the third collected volume of the comic book Preacher. Huh? Am I the only one confused why all of this would be located in a movie theater? Is this a California thing?
Compared to the gift shop everything else was rather mundane, if not a little unusual. It seems as though the movie theater was trying to capture the aesthetic of a stage production. For example the seats were assigned when you bought the ticket, (I was in seat L24 for those curious.) the auditorium was huge, and before the show an usher came out to lay down the house rules and introduce the film. I kept getting weird flashbacks to my time in the theatre department at college the entire time I was there.
And then of course there was the movie. I'll go into my thoughts on the movie in another post, but here's a hint. It's very good and well worth your time to go see.
All and all it was an outing I was very pleased with. Nothing really special, or amazing. But plenty of slightly odd. And slightly odd makes me smile ear to ear. Shame I still had to drive home.
Which brings me back to my initial problem with going out into California proper, it took me almost 3 hours to get back to my apartment. That was about twice as long as it took me to get out there in the first place. That means that in total today I spent about four and a half hours on the road so I could see a less than two hour long movie. That's a lot of time to spend it your car worried that some impatient asshole is going to rear end you because traffic keeps alternating between 15 and 0 mph on the freaking interstate. By the time I got back home most of my good feelings from the outing had been replaced with loathing for the roadways of California.
So in the end was it worth it? In this case? Yes. Yes it was. But sadly I'm not sure what will convince me that it is worth that kind of time in the car again.
Tuesday, April 30, 2013
A Review of Manborg (Because the World Needed One of Those)
http://youtu.be/mBHau4HeTZY
For a moment I'd like to talk about the idea of the "so bad it's good" movie. These movies (usually of the horror genre) are typically films where either the writing, direction, acting, production value, or some bizarre combination of all of the above come together to create a film that by all sensible should be completely horrible and without merit. Despite this, or often times because of it, these movies transcend their shortcomings, and become a kind of comedy gold to the audience willing to look at them in the right light. The "so bad it's good" label is a dubious honor at best, as it suggests that the filmmakers have so thoroughly failed at their original intentions that laughing at their shortcomings is the only entertainment that the audience can gain from the project. Perhaps the most (in)famous example of this is the film Troll 2. A movie that was so bad, and yet so loved, that it actually had a documentary made about it's fan base's ironic love for the movie. (Seriously, do a search for Best Worst Movie.)
So if the core idea behind the "so bad it's good" trope is that the film's creators failed, then how do we really define a movie that's goal is to be intentionally bad, but still hilarious in an ironic sort of way? Because that is exactly the conundrum I face when trying to review Manborg.
The story of Manborg is bare bones at best. Hell has invaded the Earth because science. That's actually not a joke. That is the reason the movie gives the audience for the forces of hell rising up and laying waste to the earth. In this weirdly retro 80's version of the future the minions of Hell are completely subjugating what's left of the human race, and forcing criminals to fight in arena death matches for the enjoyment of the hellions. It is into this world that the titular Manborg awakens.
Manborg quickly befriends a group of arena fighters, and helps them escape so he can help them lead a resistance battle against the oppressive denizens of hell. And, well, really that's about all there is to it.
Look, if you want a better story you better look somewhere else. As I mentioned earlier Manborg knows it's a bad movie. It pretty much tells you that right up front. Despite that, or possibly because of it, I kinda love this movie. I'll try to explain.
To begin with, let's examine the look of the film. At first glance you might think that the film is going for a kind of retro 80's look. (Hell, I said as much earlier in the review.) But in execution it comes of as a homage to something much, much, stranger. It comes off as an homage the FMV games of the early 90's. Low res video? Check. Laughably bad green screen techniques? Check. Lens flares for no goddamn reason? Check. Really the only thing missing is a random cameo from Christopher Walken exclaiming how "un-fucking believable" the whole thing is.
http://youtu.be/dFKylgGk73I
Why a director would opt for this look for their film is, quite honestly, beyond me. That being said, I'm glad they did. From the very first frame of the film your expectations are lowered. Which is great, because it allows you to more readily enjoy the ridiculousness that follows.
It also helps that the movie is completely self-aware. Little touches like a love struck demon warden trying to woo a human prisoner, or a wounded Manborg doing the robot on the ground kept me smiling the entire movie.
Which kind of brings me back to my initial question, "Can a movie be labeled "so bad it's good" if the original intent was always to evoke the feeling of a bad movie?" In truth I'm not sure how to answer that question. In the end it doesn't matter. Manborg was an enjoyable experience for me from beginning to end. If you and your friends are the kind of people that enjoy bad movies you will probably find a lot to love here.
Fun Fact: Make sure to watch after the credits as there is a mock preview for another film, and the funniest anti-piracy warning I've ever seen.
Fun Fact 2: The voice of #1 Man is Kyle Herbert, otherwise known as the English voice of Ryu in all of the current Street Fighter games. This makes me smile way more than it should.
For a moment I'd like to talk about the idea of the "so bad it's good" movie. These movies (usually of the horror genre) are typically films where either the writing, direction, acting, production value, or some bizarre combination of all of the above come together to create a film that by all sensible should be completely horrible and without merit. Despite this, or often times because of it, these movies transcend their shortcomings, and become a kind of comedy gold to the audience willing to look at them in the right light. The "so bad it's good" label is a dubious honor at best, as it suggests that the filmmakers have so thoroughly failed at their original intentions that laughing at their shortcomings is the only entertainment that the audience can gain from the project. Perhaps the most (in)famous example of this is the film Troll 2. A movie that was so bad, and yet so loved, that it actually had a documentary made about it's fan base's ironic love for the movie. (Seriously, do a search for Best Worst Movie.)
So if the core idea behind the "so bad it's good" trope is that the film's creators failed, then how do we really define a movie that's goal is to be intentionally bad, but still hilarious in an ironic sort of way? Because that is exactly the conundrum I face when trying to review Manborg.
The story of Manborg is bare bones at best. Hell has invaded the Earth because science. That's actually not a joke. That is the reason the movie gives the audience for the forces of hell rising up and laying waste to the earth. In this weirdly retro 80's version of the future the minions of Hell are completely subjugating what's left of the human race, and forcing criminals to fight in arena death matches for the enjoyment of the hellions. It is into this world that the titular Manborg awakens.
Manborg quickly befriends a group of arena fighters, and helps them escape so he can help them lead a resistance battle against the oppressive denizens of hell. And, well, really that's about all there is to it.
Look, if you want a better story you better look somewhere else. As I mentioned earlier Manborg knows it's a bad movie. It pretty much tells you that right up front. Despite that, or possibly because of it, I kinda love this movie. I'll try to explain.
To begin with, let's examine the look of the film. At first glance you might think that the film is going for a kind of retro 80's look. (Hell, I said as much earlier in the review.) But in execution it comes of as a homage to something much, much, stranger. It comes off as an homage the FMV games of the early 90's. Low res video? Check. Laughably bad green screen techniques? Check. Lens flares for no goddamn reason? Check. Really the only thing missing is a random cameo from Christopher Walken exclaiming how "un-fucking believable" the whole thing is.
http://youtu.be/dFKylgGk73I
Why a director would opt for this look for their film is, quite honestly, beyond me. That being said, I'm glad they did. From the very first frame of the film your expectations are lowered. Which is great, because it allows you to more readily enjoy the ridiculousness that follows.
It also helps that the movie is completely self-aware. Little touches like a love struck demon warden trying to woo a human prisoner, or a wounded Manborg doing the robot on the ground kept me smiling the entire movie.
Which kind of brings me back to my initial question, "Can a movie be labeled "so bad it's good" if the original intent was always to evoke the feeling of a bad movie?" In truth I'm not sure how to answer that question. In the end it doesn't matter. Manborg was an enjoyable experience for me from beginning to end. If you and your friends are the kind of people that enjoy bad movies you will probably find a lot to love here.
Fun Fact: Make sure to watch after the credits as there is a mock preview for another film, and the funniest anti-piracy warning I've ever seen.
Fun Fact 2: The voice of #1 Man is Kyle Herbert, otherwise known as the English voice of Ryu in all of the current Street Fighter games. This makes me smile way more than it should.
Friday, February 22, 2013
20 Years?!!
The other day I read that the original version of Super Mario Kart is now over 20 years old. This bit of information shocked and dismayed me in ways that I was entirely unprepared for. There are two main reasons why this news bothered me. One, while I am intellectually aware that a lot of time has passed it simply doesn't feel like that much time has gone by. The second, and far more surprising, reason is that I'm rather shocked at just how little my personality has changed since I was a fifteen year old playing Mario Kart with my friends for the first time ever.
It's this second subject I'd like to look at a little more in depth.
First of all I'd like to point out that I have no problems with the concept of aging. If anything I can honestly say that for the most part the older I've gotten the happier and more comfortable with myself I've gotten. So if age isn't what shocked my system, what is. Well let me put it this way. As I sit here writing I am drinking a beer, watching a movie about immortal swordsmen, all while wearing a Captain America themed t-shirt. In other words, I'm still a 15 year old. I just happen to be in a 35 year old's body.
I think the movie Big was actually a documentary about my future life. (Not sure how the filmmakers pulled off that particular trick.)
Even this doesn't really bother me exactly. It's just that it is supremely weird to have this fact thrown in your face with the cold hard fact of an anniversary date for something that you still hold oddly dear.
I... suddenly realize that I didn't really have anything else to say. Odd, I thought I did, but at the moment I can't think of anything else to put down.
Still I have to say it's felt good to write even if it really wasn't to say much.
Editor: God. You're trying to do this again?
Oh, hey. I was wondering when you were going to show up.
Editor: Well seeing as I'm usually the only piece of actual content in these posts, it's hardly surprising that I'm here once you have writer's block, now is it?
I'm not sure that I would say you are the only piece of content.
Editor: Alright. Fine. Have it your way. The only well received piece of content.
Actually, I know that's not true. My most popular post was my "Ninjas vs. Naked Women" post. And you aren't in that one at all.
Editor: That's the article with the sexy girl in the ninja outfit down on all fours, right? Tell me. Which makes more sense to you? People came here for your insights, or people came here for a picture of a pretty girl?
I.. er.. I mean, I'm sure some came here for my opinions...
Editor: Uh huh. Sure. Whatever helps you to sleep at night.
You know, you really aren't very nice. Have you ever considered that conversations like this are the entire reason I don't update this thing very often?
Editor: Though about it? Hell I've been counting on it. The longer you are away, the happier I am.
You know, if you really dislike me that much, you really don't have to be here. Just find something else to do. Take a vacation. I hear North Korea is really nice this time of year.
Editor: Oh yeah. That will work. What exactly would these posts be without me? (In a mocking impression of myself.) Oh look at me. I'm a sarcastic child of the 80's whose way to interested in stuff from 20 years ago. Please. That doesn't make you interesting, or unique. It makes you a statistic. One of hundreds if not thousands of people who have used the internet as a means to focus at length on this nostalgic nonsense. I'm the only thing that sets this apart at all. The only thing that makes your rants even slightly original. That's my job. To call you on your bullshit. Your feelings be damned!
Wait. That's your job? I thought you were here to correct my punctuation and spelling.
Editor: What? No! Have you ever looked back at any of this stuff?
Well, yeah. I just thought you were really bad at your job.
Editor: Dick.
Didn't you just tell me that was your job?
Editor: And now you're finally beginning to understand my role.
So. We are just stuck with each other then?
Editor: For better or for worse. Or in my case a whole lot worse.
I'm sorry?
Editor: Don't be. One day I'll finally break you for good, and then I'll never have to worry about you writing in this damn thing again.
Maybe it will be this time.
Editor: I'm nowhere near that lucky.
Then I guess I'll see you next time?
Editor: Whatever.
It's this second subject I'd like to look at a little more in depth.
First of all I'd like to point out that I have no problems with the concept of aging. If anything I can honestly say that for the most part the older I've gotten the happier and more comfortable with myself I've gotten. So if age isn't what shocked my system, what is. Well let me put it this way. As I sit here writing I am drinking a beer, watching a movie about immortal swordsmen, all while wearing a Captain America themed t-shirt. In other words, I'm still a 15 year old. I just happen to be in a 35 year old's body.
I think the movie Big was actually a documentary about my future life. (Not sure how the filmmakers pulled off that particular trick.)
Even this doesn't really bother me exactly. It's just that it is supremely weird to have this fact thrown in your face with the cold hard fact of an anniversary date for something that you still hold oddly dear.
I... suddenly realize that I didn't really have anything else to say. Odd, I thought I did, but at the moment I can't think of anything else to put down.
Still I have to say it's felt good to write even if it really wasn't to say much.
Editor: God. You're trying to do this again?
Oh, hey. I was wondering when you were going to show up.
Editor: Well seeing as I'm usually the only piece of actual content in these posts, it's hardly surprising that I'm here once you have writer's block, now is it?
I'm not sure that I would say you are the only piece of content.
Editor: Alright. Fine. Have it your way. The only well received piece of content.
Actually, I know that's not true. My most popular post was my "Ninjas vs. Naked Women" post. And you aren't in that one at all.
Editor: That's the article with the sexy girl in the ninja outfit down on all fours, right? Tell me. Which makes more sense to you? People came here for your insights, or people came here for a picture of a pretty girl?
I.. er.. I mean, I'm sure some came here for my opinions...
Editor: Uh huh. Sure. Whatever helps you to sleep at night.
You know, you really aren't very nice. Have you ever considered that conversations like this are the entire reason I don't update this thing very often?
Editor: Though about it? Hell I've been counting on it. The longer you are away, the happier I am.
You know, if you really dislike me that much, you really don't have to be here. Just find something else to do. Take a vacation. I hear North Korea is really nice this time of year.
Editor: Oh yeah. That will work. What exactly would these posts be without me? (In a mocking impression of myself.) Oh look at me. I'm a sarcastic child of the 80's whose way to interested in stuff from 20 years ago. Please. That doesn't make you interesting, or unique. It makes you a statistic. One of hundreds if not thousands of people who have used the internet as a means to focus at length on this nostalgic nonsense. I'm the only thing that sets this apart at all. The only thing that makes your rants even slightly original. That's my job. To call you on your bullshit. Your feelings be damned!
Wait. That's your job? I thought you were here to correct my punctuation and spelling.
Editor: What? No! Have you ever looked back at any of this stuff?
Well, yeah. I just thought you were really bad at your job.
Editor: Dick.
Didn't you just tell me that was your job?
Editor: And now you're finally beginning to understand my role.
So. We are just stuck with each other then?
Editor: For better or for worse. Or in my case a whole lot worse.
I'm sorry?
Editor: Don't be. One day I'll finally break you for good, and then I'll never have to worry about you writing in this damn thing again.
Maybe it will be this time.
Editor: I'm nowhere near that lucky.
Then I guess I'll see you next time?
Editor: Whatever.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
My Personal History of Fighting Games part 1
As you may know Marvel vs Capcom 3 is getting released on February 15th. Seeing as I (along with many others) have been waiting over 10 years for another installment in this franchise, it's safe to say that I'm a little excited. Which officially marks the very first time I've ever been excited about anything near Valentine's Day. (Seriously fuck that bullshit greeting card holiday! Yes I'm bitter.) It also means that many nostalgic thoughts about the Marvel "vs." series, and really just fighting games in general have been bubbling to the surface. It made me realize that I've played a lot of fighting games. So I thought it might be fun to do my own personal retrospective on my experiences on the fighting game genre.
(Note: This is not going to be a comprehensive article, nor will it be the most in depth. This is more about my personal experiences with the following.)
So let's get on with it.
1) Karate Champ
I bet you thought I was going to say Street Fighter 2 didn't you? While that game was huge, and I will be talking about it later, the fact is this is where my love of the fighting game started.
Thinking back on it know Karate Champ was an amazingly simple game. You had two guys in karate gi's, one in white the other in red, and they would fight using basic punches and kicks. Really this is what fighting genre is all about. From the very first time I saw it at the arcade I was hooked. There were only two problems. One I wasn't able to go to the arcade that often, and two I had absolutely no idea how to play the damn thing. You see unlike modern fighters where you have a stick (or pad) to control your movement and buttons to attack with, Karate Champ had two sticks.
For a reference here's Jean Claude Van Damme playing Ogre.
As a kid I could never figure out how this control scheme was supposed to work. But I did figure out one important thing. Spaz out enough on the sticks, and eventually you will get the jump kick.
And the jump kick, if done right, there is no defense.
Sadly my love affair with Karate Champ was short lived. As I said I didn't get out to the arcade that much, so we didn't get to spend much time together. And the times we were together were usually awkward and often frustrating. Borderlining on infuriating. So we parted as friends, with many good memories, but never really talked again.
For me Karate Champ was were it all started. And you never forget your first.
(Note: This is not going to be a comprehensive article, nor will it be the most in depth. This is more about my personal experiences with the following.)
So let's get on with it.
1) Karate Champ
I bet you thought I was going to say Street Fighter 2 didn't you? While that game was huge, and I will be talking about it later, the fact is this is where my love of the fighting game started.
Thinking back on it know Karate Champ was an amazingly simple game. You had two guys in karate gi's, one in white the other in red, and they would fight using basic punches and kicks. Really this is what fighting genre is all about. From the very first time I saw it at the arcade I was hooked. There were only two problems. One I wasn't able to go to the arcade that often, and two I had absolutely no idea how to play the damn thing. You see unlike modern fighters where you have a stick (or pad) to control your movement and buttons to attack with, Karate Champ had two sticks.
For a reference here's Jean Claude Van Damme playing Ogre.
As a kid I could never figure out how this control scheme was supposed to work. But I did figure out one important thing. Spaz out enough on the sticks, and eventually you will get the jump kick.
And the jump kick, if done right, there is no defense.
Sadly my love affair with Karate Champ was short lived. As I said I didn't get out to the arcade that much, so we didn't get to spend much time together. And the times we were together were usually awkward and often frustrating. Borderlining on infuriating. So we parted as friends, with many good memories, but never really talked again.
For me Karate Champ was were it all started. And you never forget your first.
Friday, December 3, 2010
Hello Wal-Mart My Old Friend...
(Note: For those of you who are confused as to why there is a pic of a single toothed woman at the top of this post, this is an experiment. I'm taking pics submitted by friends, and attempting to use them to inspire me to write. If you'd like to participate please send me an image and I'll see what I can do.)
So many questions come to mind when looking at this image. First of course is the obvious, "What happened to her teeth?" To this there are any number of plausible and, let's face it, boring explanations for what exactly happened. (i.e. Illness, lack of brushing/flossing, has literally no idea what the word "dentist" means...) But for the moment let's try to think outside the box and see what we can come up with.
1) Jack Bauer was torturing her for information about a loose nuclear warhead held by terrorists in the US. (She finally broke on the next to last tooth.)
2) She's a sexual submissive with a strong fetish for pain and dentists. (Think Bill Murrary in Little Shop of Horrors.)
3) She's in the witness protection program, and her case officer thought this would be the best way to make her unrecognizable.
4) She woke up in an alley in Tijuana missing most of her teeth... And a kidney!
5) She's from Virginia.
The second question that comes to mind is why does she still have the one tooth left. Admittedly I'm no oral surgeon, but I'd think that at this point it would be easier to simply yank that last tooth and just get fitted for a set of dentures.
Even odder is the fact that her last tooth is practically gleaming white. I'm actually willing to bet that she takes better care of that one shiny tooth than I have ever cared for any of the teeth in my head.
(Writing that down has suddenly given me a very strong desire to brush/floss my teeth. This woman could probably have a future visiting schools to warn impressible children about the dangers of tooth decay.)
Also just how does she eat? Is she on a liquid food diet at this point? If that's the case than how is she still overweight? Does dinner consist of a pureed Big Mac and fries? (Wow! That concept almost made me retch in my mouth!)
Perhaps I'm just over thinking the situation. It certainly wouldn't be the first time. Maybe she has dentures at home that she uses to eat. However if that was the case then why the hell wouldn't you just wear them when you went out? Admittedly I really don't care about my outward appearance. (If you've ever seen my wardrobe than you know the truth of this statement.) But even I would have the self respect to try and disguise my empty maw with fake teeth.
Or at the very least I would have kept my mouth shut.
And yet none of these are the main question on my mind. Believe it or not my main question has nothing at all to do with her lack of teeth, or her ownership of just one tooth. No, the most ponderous question in my mind is this, "Why the fuck is she holding her hand up like she's waiting for the teacher to call on her?"
Did someone come over the intercom asking for the toothless wonder to identify herself? Perhaps she was trying to get the attention of whomever had the camera, hoping that this was her big break. Or maybe, just maybe, she really knows the answer and can't wait to tell you.
The world may never know, and is probably better off that way.
(So ends my first part of this experiment. Let me know what you think, and if you have any submissions send them my way.)
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