Octopodial Chrome

A friend challenged all of his friends to post the first fifteen movies we can think of that will stick with ’us. Well, I prefer twelve to fifteen any day, so here’s my selection:

1. Top Gun
2. Young Frankenstein
3. The Lighthorsemen
4. Breaker Morant
5. Die Fledermaus
6. Last of the Mohicans
7. Ferris Bueller’s Day Off
8. 12 Monkeys
9. 90° South
10. Hors de Prix
11. Master and Commander
12. Animal House

Take it for whatever it’s worth…

So I was watching the video for Jefferson Starship’s Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now and had an idea: a cheesy 80s film night. This isn’t for the true classics like Ferris Bueller’s Day Off; it’s for the guilty pleasures like Top Gun, Adventures in Babysitting or Mannequin. Probably Weird Science, Real Genius and Revenge of the Nerds. Maybe License to Drive or Blind Date. I wonder what others would qualify? I’ve never seen Footloose, but it sounds like a likely candidate. Ditto on both counts for Dirty Dancing.

Anyone else have thoughts? There are probably too many for a single night, but a whole series of Cheesy 80s Film Nights sounds fun to me.

Here’s some cool trivia about The Princess Bride, one of my favourite films of all time. I mean, it has swords, monsters, freaks and a hot babe—how could it get any better?

I was watching Song of the Thing Man and found this great little bit of dialogue:

Nick

Darling, let’s go home.

Nora

Why, what’s at home?

Nick

You, my pipe, my slippers…

Nora

Nicky, I think you’re slipping!

Nick

Give me my pipe, my slippers and a beautiful woman…and you can have my pipe and slippers!

Heh heh.

Well, I finally got around to seeing 2004’s Meet the Fockers, a sequel to the amusing Meet the Parents. My verdict? Absolutely atrocious.

What’s right with this film? Certainly not the Mr. & Doctor Focker played by Hoffman & Streisand: they are abominable people. Not Stiller’s Gaylord Focker: he’s a brainless twit, a simpleton along for the ride. Not Teri Polo’s nonentity of a fiancée (so forgettable I cannot remember her character’s name). There’s something wrong when De Niro’s paranoid, controlling CIA retiree is the most fully-realised and sympathetic character in the movie.

I think that we’re meant to like the Fockers—but they’re unlikable. Bernie Focker is a moron who has a shrine consisting of his son’s ninth- and tenth-place ribbons; he’s the sort of annoying putz who desperately needs to be punched in the face for at least half an hour. Roz Focker is, frankly, a disaster. She, along with her husband, has no concept of appropriateness, nor of boundaries, nor of discretion, nor of decorum, nor indeed of anything befitting civilisation whatsoever. They live in the present, ignoring the past and pretending there’s no future. The two of them have no wit, no learning; indeed, the only thing separating them from voiceless beasts is their incessant speaking. My world would have been a better place had I never been introduced to them.

Indeed, I would have been a happier man had I never seen this film. If it were possible to induce amnesia, I would. I am poorer and dumber for having seen it. May God have mercy upon my soul.

Raymond Ibrahim tears apart the new anti-Christian Beowulf film. I’ve no desire to see this latest mishandling of the classic.

The first trailer for Prince Caspian has been released. My only quibbles are that Caspian has a goofy accent and looks too old for the part, and that I am getting sick and tired of mask helmets. People, you want a helmet to deflect blows, not grab them.

Just finished watching the hilarious Hot Fuzz. It’s an excellent parody buddy-cop films. The first bit’s kinda slow, but really it’s a prolonged setup for the final half hour actionfest. The trailer promises that the guys who made it watched every action film ever; I don’t know about that, but they sure managed to fit in just about every action movie trope: the jump-from-a-great-height; the hero-henchman fight; the hero-villain fight; the sword-fight; the vengeance vendetta; the exploding building; the spring-loaded sleeve-pistols; the massive, monumental, absolutely incredible expenditure of ammunition (I’m pretty certain more shots were fired making Hot Fuzz than in the Second World War).

It rocked.

This evening I watched It Happened One Night, a Frank Capra film featuring Clark Gable & Claudette Colbert. The plotline is fairly simple: girl (involved with a fellow) falls in with a guy while headed to New York to meet her fellow; they hate each other; they have transportation trouble; zany adventures ensue; they fall in love. I was thinking how cool it’d be to remake it in a modern vein, and was amusing myself with how to update it when I realised something: I’ve already seen it remade. Three times in fact. Forces of Nature: guy (engaged) falls in with a gal while headed to his wedding; they hate each other; they have transportation trouble; zany adventures ensue; they fall in love. The Sure Thing: girl (with a boyfriend) falls in with a guy while headed to visit the boyfriend (and the guy’s sure thing); they hate each other; they have transportation trouble; zany adventures ensue; they fall in love. Planes, Trains & Automobiles: guy falls in with another guy while headed to his family; guys hate each other; they have transportation trouble; zany adventures ensue; they become friends. Heck, one could even argue that 48 Hours and Lethal Weapon play with the same sort of ideas.

I don’t know that It Happened One Night originated such plots—perhaps Aristophanes played with ’em—but it was very cool to watch the inspiration for so much latter cinema. It’s not a terribly great film in itself (despite sweeping the Academy Awards for 1934), but it’s highly enjoyable fluff.

From Saturday Night Live, a view of possible Star Wars screentests. I don’t know about you, but a version with Christopher Walken as Han Solo, Richard Dreyfus as C-3PO and Walter Matthau as Obi-wan Kenobi would have been quite cool.

From the Washington Post comes a great do-it-yourself guide to writing an asinine Christmas movie. It’s shameful that we celebrate the birth of our Savior with saccharine.

I just saw Un long dimanche de fiançailles (A Long Engagement), an excellent French film about a young woman trying to find her fiance—supposedly slain in the Great War. It’s a top-notch film; if your eyes are able to read the subtitles in the final scene then you have a lump of ice where your heart should be.

I just got back from seeing Top Gun on the largest screen in all Denver. It was incredible to see again in a theatre—well worth the princely sum of $5 a ticket. I highly recommend it, should you get the chance.

So I watched Batman, for probably the first time I a decade and a half. Back in ’89 when it came out my father heard something on the radio about—unfortunately he mis-heard DC (as in DC Comics) as Disney and thus he took his family to see a Tim Burton film.

At the time, I thought that was about the coolest thing ever. My parents would normally have never allowed us to see anything like that, and I’d have been the laughingstock (as usual) of the kids at school. But instead I was one of the guys, for a brief moment. It was pretty sweet.

Seeing it now, though, I have to admit that it is bewildering why any sequels were made. It’s just not a very good film: too juvenile for adults; too adult for children. It’s not at all believable; in fact, it’s really a stupid film.

What if Noam Chomsky & Howard Zinn provided a commentary track for The Fellowship of the Ring? You can really imagine them blathering on like this…

I just got back from watching Beerfest, a film which is perhaps—nay definitely—the finest film in all of recorded history. Casablanca & Citizen Kane pale in comparison; indeed had Welles & Bogart know what was to come they’d have just stayed home and not bothered.

Yes, it’s crude and crass and not at all good for society—but it’s something better than uplifting: it’s funny. I went with a bunch of guys from work; we drank beer and ate a hearty meal at C.B. & Pott’s, then adjourned to the theatre for this greatest of movies. It was absolutely perfect for our mood. The only unfortunate thing is how few people caught it with us. This is the sort of movie which should be seen in an auditorium packed with delirious fans. But it was worth it nonetheless.

If you don’t enjoy Beerfest, you don’t like beer, or you have two X chromosomes, or your sense of humour has atrophied and fallen off. If, on the other hand, you are a somewhat young at heart (that’s code for immature) guy who can turn off his brain and laugh at some politically incorrect humour, then see this film! See it tomorrow, and bring all your friends.

More than two years ago I’d the very great privilege of seeing Master & Commander: The Far Side of the World, perhaps the most important film of our age. At that time, I stated that it was masterfully done in every respect. Well, I just saw it again, and if anything my opinion is even higher. If you see only one film in your entire life, make it Master & Commander.

It is a film about duty, about courage, about holding fast when the odds are against one; a film about humility, about subjecting oneself to the concerns of the greater good. It should be the film of our age, but I understand that it didn’t earn enough in the theatres to merit a sequel. Shame upon movie-goers everywhere!

Perhaps the finest is when the 12- or 13-year-old Lord Blakeney—who has been left in command whilst the other officers board the enemey—determines that those left under his command need to themselves board in order to prevent a last-ditch attack. He gives the order, and men many multiples of his own age, including the ship’s doctor (an officer, but under the command of a barely-teenage boy) follow him. In that brief sequence is portrayed everything about honour and duty which can be portrayed.

Master & Commander should be required annual viewing for every young man from the age of 6 to 24; it’s that good. Only in our sad and lowly modern age would it not have won the box office success it deserved. If you’ve not seen it yet, see it now. If you’ve seen it already, see it again.

Best line I’ve read in a review of Revenge of the Sith:

Wow, my date was great last night! He only spit in my face once, and even offered to give me the leftovers of his dinner to feed me! And then I kissed his moldy shoes in gratitude before he left me to walk myself home in the dark!

That kinda says it all: Revenge of the Sith was good only because it was better than the previous two.

I just finished watching Red Dawn, a classic bit of Cold War era schlock from 1984. Believe it or not, I’d never actually seen it before. What’s up with that?

It’s every awkward teenage boy’s fantasy. First of all, the Russians and Cubans invade. This is important, because it frees the heroes of adult control—and as every adolescent knows, it’s adults who are the real Evil Empire. It’s also key because it gives the boys a chance to play at being heroes (which is the secret dream of every right-thinking boy). They see their parents die, and go on to avenge them; they are given some like-aged girls to protect (I don’t need to explain the appeal of this); they roam the mountains, camping and hunting and conducting guerrilla warfare against the invaders. In short, it’s the daydream of every boy over the age of 13.

This review explains Red Dawn even better; the Mutant Reviewers also do a bang-up job. It really is a stupid film (why on Earth would Russian invaders shoot up a school?!?), but it’s a fun one, and worth the time to see and laugh at.

Well, I just saw the DVD re-release of Top Gun, a film which was arguably the formative experience of my youth. I remember that Dad took me & Tom to see it in the theatre, maybe for my birthday—I don’t believe that John was there, as he was probably too young in ’86 (not even three), and Stephen wouldn’t be born until that August—and although I don’t really remember that experience, I know that it was a defining one. We boys in the schoolyard would discuss every single aspect of the movie. As an example, there were endless debates over whether or not Maverick cast Goose’s dog tags into the sea at the end or not: while it’s pretty obvious from the film that he does so, many of us adhered to the belief that he wouldn’t discard such relics so casually. These and other matter absorbed our every waking hour. I vaguely remember that Katie—the girl across the street—had a signed photo of Tom Cruise, or had met him, or the signed photo led us to believe that she had met him; regardless, she was well and truly cool for a very long period thereafter. The fact that her father was in naval aviation only confirmed the fact.

As boys, I know that we went through at least one Beta (it still plays, last I checked!) and two, maybe three, VHS cassettes of Top Gun, as all four of us boys absolutely loved the film. It offered everything: sports (the volleyball scene); love (Kelly McGillis); death (Goose); violence (the fighting finale); chaos (Maverick’s general misbehaviour); defeat and eventual triumph. It had large doses of humour and tragedy; it had snappy uniforms & attractive women (alongside the aforementioned McGillis there was a 24-year-old Meg Ryan); it had a pumped-up 80s soundtrack. What more could a boy want?

Seeing the movie as an adult, I still enjoy it. Yes, there are those who say that it’s homosexual and cheesy, but I don’t really think so. Even the infamous Tarantino monologue is really a cop-out. If McGillis represents heterosexuality and Iceman homosexuality, then we straights win: Maverick chooses her at the end. But besides the supposed camp undertones, it’s just a fun movie. Sure, it’s not great, in a film-for-the-ages sense, but it’s enjoyable—and isn’t that what we’re looking for in entertainment?

I will admit that the script is…lacking. Quite honestly, a great deal of the lines sound like something from Saved by the Bell—i.e. an adolescent’s idea of adult speech. But it’s all in fun, and that’s what matters. Heck, Shakespeare made a classic play out of two teenagers who couldn’t keep their passions in check! It really gets back to the same things I loved as a boy: the music; the characters; the melodrama; the fighting; the girls.

I firmly believe that Top Gun is responsible for more military careers than any film before or since. It was filmed at the height of the Cold War, when America finally realised that it was fighting the good fight, but before we had actually won it. And many of us who saw it as boys would go on to sign up. My own brothers Tom & Stephen were almost certainly influenced by Bruckheimer & Simpson’s masterpiece, although I wonder how often they’ll actually admit it.

Now, the movie did get just about all of the facts wrong. I understand that pilots don’t actually have planes with their names on them, and their callsigns are very rarely used, and never in social situations, and that a plethora of miscellany about the film is screamingly wrong. But it’s just a film and if one isn’t a naval aviator then one doesn’t notice most of the nonsense. And, to this fellow, a lot of the look still appears accurate: the buildings and fixtures are what I remember naval installations looking like when I was but a lad.

Oh, and Top Gun in DTS Digital Surround is truly fun. You simply must try it…

I’ve just discovered Peerflix, a DVD-rental competitor with a twist: users trade the films amongst themselves; it costs about $1 to receive a movie, and when one’s done one just mails it on to someone else. They claim to be cheaper than Netflix, without the throttling that Netflix applies to heavy users (like me…). An interesting alternative; I think I’ll wait until their library is larger, though.

Ed Epstein writes in Slate about why Hollywood can’t afford to be original any longer. It seems to me that the answer is to make the films a little less expensive, and thus change the risk-benefit ratios just a touch.

Thanks to my brother Tom for pointing out this despicable Turkish film. Set in Iraq, Valley of the Wolves Iraq depicts American soldiers killing a child before his mother, murdering wedding guests, and having a Jewish doctor remove the organs of prisoners and sell them to the rich. Worse even than that (after all, we have come to expect such anti-American, anti-Semitic filth from the Middle East), Billy Zane and Gary Busey play parts in it.

Movie Puppet Theatre is a collection of hand-puppet parodies of well-known films. Quite amusing.