In the last month I’ve been in a theatre three times where the trailer for Devil has played before the feature. Each and every time, the theatre let out an audible groan when ‘from the mind of M. Night Shyamalan’ hit the screen. While in my head I echoed their sentiment, it’s disheartening that Devil will be met with resistance from some, based on M. Night’s involvement alone. While his name is slapped all over the film and its marketing, Shyamalan is credited as producer and coming up with the idea – he did not write the screenplay, nor direct.
And while the Nega-Midas touch of M. Night makes us all a little weary, Devil is actually a very enjoyable little film. I’m actually quite surprised at how into the film I am.
This marks the first film in The Night Chronicles, a sort of Tales From The Crypt meets The Outer Limits imprint for films of the supernatural-thriller genre. Each film is conceived by M. Night though he will not write or direct any of them. Devil, the inaugural flick, is more literal than it seems – five people find themselves stuck in an elevator and one of them is the Devil. Though more thriller than horror, it fills its succinct run-time with creepiness and atmosphere while making us play guess-who right to the very end.
Devil and The Night Chronicles make perfect sense. This is how M. Night can redeem himself. As horrible as his last three or four films have been, you can’t deny he’s got a creative mind with some unique stories left to be told. This is his chance to get those stories made, to collaborate with other creators and writers and directors while still leaving his mark on films. We forget that at one time Shyamalan was a potential force in genre films (don’t believe me, watch Unbreakable again). Devil has a very strong Twilight Zone feel to it, as if it came straight out of Rod Serling’s mind. It’s high-concept and small and to-the-point like it could be a regular tv series, but with a reasonable budget it goes a step further in production than anything ever done on The Outer Limits. I am really behind this Night Chronicles concept.
Devil is a very small film. It only runs 80 minutes and features faces you’ve really only seen twice at most, but can’t quite place. These are not criticisms by any stretch, if anything i like how tight the story is. The run time is split between the people stuck in the elevator, and the security and police officer inside the Philadelphia high-rise watching it all unfold and trying to piece it together. As quickly as they get stuck, they begin to fall one by one as the Devil has his way. Just don’t expect to see any snarling beasts or a demonoid Satan with horns, Devil holds back the reins and instead relies on our senses and an unseen terror to make us squirm.
I almost feel bad for writing this review with such shock, like all of my praise for the film is based on how I didn’t hate it. While that is most certainly true, don’t see that as the film being just not bad, there is some great work here. Director John Erick Dowd (Quarantine) has done an exceptional job, adding style and atmosphere to the film, something incredibly hard to do when the subjects of your film are confined to a very small elevator in which people are slaughtered by evil in human form. Lighting and camera angles are the film’s fulcrum, and are all handled very well and with innovation. Again, this is a very small film that brought out great things from the technical minds involved.
Brian Nelson wrote the film (from Shyamalan’s concept) which borrows strengths from his previous work – the slow-burning tension of Hard Candy and the isolation and horror of 30 Days of Night – making Devil a unique entry into the genre. The film doesn’t skip a beat, introducing us to our characters and defining the mythology right away letting it all unfold rather quickly. It’s not just a superfluous string of jump-scares and kills either; Devil mixes in themes of morality and malevolence while finding connections between the characters and making the whole ordeal actually have a point and a reason. As much as the film is based supernaturally, there are underlying elements that are plausible and relatable and entirely realistic. For those supernatural elements, I do applaud the use of subtlety, both in the script and its direction.
None of the acting in the film is anything to make note of, though everyone does their roles justice. With a film like Devil, again so rooted in the vain of The Twilight Zone, everyone behaves as they should and understands the context of their characters. It becomes clear very early in the film that any one of these people could be the Devil, while all of them give us reason to doubt it at the same time.
Another great element of the film is its score. It’s got that great 80’s sci-fi horror theme to it, with creeping violin strokes and broad, marching tones thanks to Fernando Velazquez.
The more I think about it, the more I enjoyed Devil. If the film is marred by having M. Night’s name attached to it, then that is a shame really, as Devil does deliver.
When I first saw the trailer for Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga’Hoole – you know the one, with the slo-mo helmet adorned warrior owls, set to Jared Leto’s band channeling U2 – I admit, I sprung a big geeky one. It’s like someone read my childhood notebook and took the two most badass things I could think of, warrior helmets and owls, and handed ‘em over to the guy that made 300 and Watchmen and set him loose on it. But over time, with more recent posters and tv spots, and the incessant buzzing of ‘from the creators of Happy Feet‘, I began to worry that I would be let down by a really powerful concept made silly for kids. Then I showed up a little late to the pre-screening this morning, only to be surrounded by kidlets. Young ones too, even babies. It looked like free hot dog day at a lunchtime showing of Alvin and the Chipmunks: The Squeakuel.
I was so wrong. Legend of the Guardians is everything I had wanted in my head when I saw the trailer, and everything I have come to expect from Zack Snyder.
The film, based on the book series The Guardians of Ga’Hoole by Kathryn Lasky (all 15 of which I have never heard of nor read), follows a young barn owl named Soren, who alongside his brother and many other owlets, are kidnapped by a group of owls bent on turning the young ones into an army to aid them in conquering all of the owl kingdom. Soren and Gylfie, the only defiant little furballs, escape and try to find the Guardians, a group of owl warriors believed only to be myth by most, to warn them of the oncoming owl threat, led by the Sauron-esque Metalbeak.
LotG is definitely a family film, but I’ve never quite seen one that embraces its maturity so much. During the movie I was certain that more than a few of the younglings in the theatre would be intimidated, if not scared by the film’s darkness. There are no silly sight gags and certainly not any kiddie-oriented jokes. There’s as much entertainment for the adult crowd, if not more. And it’s the best of both worlds, as the film is paced a lot faster than you would expect – especially considering Zack Snyder loves his epic lengths – making for a very straight forward, action-packed movie that you and your kids will never tire of.
The first thing I noticed however, is that the film looks fucking gorgeous in every aspect, from the owls and environments all the way to the cinematography. The camera work and animation is just stunning, and teamed with Zack Snyder’s direction – his signature style is intact, though he has dialed down on his speed-ramping calling card a significant amount – LotG could be the most gorgeous movie of the year. The owls are entirely believable within their environments, even when fighting in helmets and armor and lifting flaming sticks. Major kudos to the animation team behind it, I have the feeling this is going to be one of those blu-rays you demo to all of your friends.
Concept and appearance aside, the film is executed wonderfully. The story is great and I see a real potential to keep going with the franchise; Lord knows WB needs a non-DC family series to take over Harry Potter’s reign. I really hope that the Ga’Hoole series becomes that. If anything I think it could appeal to a much broader audience – the film exudes the same maturity as the Lord of the Rings while being far more accessible to a larger crowd.
I’m really hoping for a great opening weekend for LotG next week. It’s definitely one of my favorites of the year and deserves your dollars (if I were you, I’d pass on the 3D version – though much better than recent offerings, the film is still plagued with ghosting and clarity issues).
Do check it out, Legend of the Guardians opens next Friday, September 24th.
Hola Lords and Ladies! I’m going to get back to the usual nerdy diatribes and rants later on. Today however I want to discuss a subject that really and I do mean really, grinds my gears. We’ve all been there, an early or advanced screening for the latest comic-book epic or in line for a signing/sketch from your favorite author/artist. We are all standing together in a simple structure used to simplify the entry to the event, a line. Now when things go well this structure moves along quickly and everyone in said line goes away satisfied. When it doesn’t go right (to be detailed further down) it can be a mockingly cruel torture device designed to drive its participant’s batshit insane. The following are a set of rules (not guidelines, I’m not playing a DM right now) to make your experience and the experiences of others in the line more enjoyable.
#1 – Know what you want before you get to the front of the line.
This one’s pretty self-explanatory. In the case of a movie theater or a fast food restaurant where you have multiple selections to choose from you have plenty of time to make a choice while you are still moving through the line. The goal is, once you’re at the front, have your choice in mind and make your selection. I was in line last weekend to see ‘Machete’ and the two younger girls in front of me got to the front of the line. They both walked up to the cashier, but it seems as though their choice for the movie they were going to see leaked out of their heads between the front of the line and approaching the cashier! So they had to back up and look at the screens with the films and show-times to find it again. This happened more than once as apparently their ability to read also leaked out of their heads along with their choice. I should also mention that the other cashiers were busy with large families and their desperate attempts to come to a consensus. I was next in line dammit! Get out of my way so that I can make my choice and move on for the people behind me!
Simply put, have your choice in mind once you get to the front of the line.
#2 – Have your money/credit/debit ready
Again this is common sense. While you’re moving through the line get your cash/debit/credit/scene card out and in hand or at least have it in easy reach when you get to the cashier. It makes the transaction go by so much faster if you’re not having to fumble for your wallet or dig through your purse to get that all out at the cashier. Keep the process simple and have it in hand when you get to the front of the line.
#3 – Pay attention to the movements of the line
Depending on the size or popularity of the event, the line could move slowly or quickly. This is normally always out of our control and is really the responsibility of the organizers to determine. Our part in this is to be aware when the line moves and move with it. So that means no sitting down while in line, there will be plenty of time for that once you get inside. This also goes for when you turn around to talk with the person behind you, keep an eye out so that you know to move when the line moves.
And finally rule #4:
NO BLOODY CUTS!!!
Out of all the rules to follow THIS is the one that we all need to follow and it really brings my piss to a boil when it isn’t followed. If you step out of line to go do something else it was clearly more important than standing in line. So you lose your place in line and have to go to the back of the line. If your friends cannot make it there at the same time as you do they go to the back of the line! They can ask you to save seats but that’s it, they go to the back of the line! This is crucial especially when the event has limited seating. Nothing pisses me off more than not being allowed to get in because some moron let his friends cut in line and the capacity of the event has been reached. Loyalty schmoyalty! If your friends can’t make it there to get in line with you at the same time it’s their own fault for not getting in. No one else that is in the line should have to miss out because your friends can’t follow a watch!
I’m normally not an angry individual but this always seems to tick me off to no end! The world would be a much better place and we’d all get along that much better if everyone just follows the rules. If you didn’t know there were rules to the line before you do now. So please, for your better enjoyment and the peace of mind of others in the line behind you, follow them.
/end rant. Until next time, stay epic lords and ladies!
Ben Affleck has a bigger bum rap than Sir Mix-A-Lot.
Like most actors, he’s strayed into the areas of the unwatchable (Daredevil, Gigli, Jersey Girl), but when you really take a look at the man’s resume, it’s decent. If you can get over his emotional breathing with his mouth open, you can find him in some great roles. Lately however, Affleck’s true calling has become more prevalent with the success of his directorial debut, Gone Baby Gone, which received a heap of attention and nominations. Oh, and there is that little Academy Award he won (with Matt Damon) for writing Good Will Hunting.
In The Town, Affleck’s second time out directing, this time also starring in, he has proven that he is indeed a formidable force behind the camera. Not only that but he has stepped the acting chops up a notch or two. The film is solid in every aspect. The story, based on Chuck Hogan’s novel The Prince of Thieves, is tightly wound, gritty and right down to earth, following four friends in Boston, bonded to each other by their highly illegal past-time: robbing banks in the tough streets of Charlestown. As precise and talented as the four are, a spontaneous move from one of them brings a witness and love-interest into the fold. Doug Macray (Affleck) must now balance the obligation to heist, the desire to start over and a less-than-truthful courtship, all while the FBI (led by Jon Hamm) work madly to build a case on the young Bostonians.
The Town is an admirable heist film for how it separates itself from the others. The characters come first and foremost. The bank robberies and illegal activities the gang commit, are important parts to the story and the characters themselves, but Affleck has cut out all the flash and fantasy of ‘the perfect heist’. The genre has become waterlogged with Oceans 11 type caricatures and superfluous stereotypes. These films have become more of a procedural how-to, a CSI meets Cirque Du Soleil spectacle, instead of gripping us, taking us into the people behind such acts, and showing us the world around them. The Town is not about four untouchable bad guys, it’s about four scared, normal, yet slightly morally-bankrupt individuals. Instead of waiting for the heist to go all wrong, you’re watching to see what happens between friends when one of them goes right.
Don’t take it that the film is just a character study or a romance-thriller. The Town is a sincerely apt action film. It’s entirely gritty and mature and features one of the best car chase scenes since Ronin or The Bourne Identity. There’s no doubt about it, Affleck can shoot action. Every moment of impact, every turn and every screeching tire can be felt throughout the audience, paced wonderfully and intensely. The Town may not be the smartest thriller, nor the ballsiest action film, but it does everything it sets out to do very well.
The performances are no exception either. For a small little film set in a dingy Boston, the ensemble cast is tight and downright believable; no easy feat when almost every character has that thick Bwaustin accent. Affleck (possibly at his most ripped, physically) leads the film strongly, giving one of his career bests – no small feat considering he directed himself for his second directorial outing. Jeremy Renner, still a hot commodity after his nomination for The Hurt Locker, turns in another transformation as the loose cannon of the team. The still relatively new Rebecca Hall is entirely believable as the young bank clerk roped into a hornet’s nest, but the biggest surprise from the female cast of The Town has to be Blake Lively. The Gossip Girl (and soon to be Green Lantern) star paints an impenetrable coating of filth on the story as Doug’s dead-beat, drug-ridden, baby-mama past squeeze. Like Amy Ryan in Gone Baby Gone, Lively sheds all her inherent beauty (and in her case slight inexperience), turning in a completely credible performance. Though I really dug him in the role, I felt that Jon Hamm’s performance left me desiring a little more. Though it’s an unfair comparison, I didn’t feel the fire behind his character to hunt the bad guy, like Tommy Lee Jones in The Fugitive. It should also be mentioned that the great Pete Postlethwaite is simply awesome in his small, but important (and terrifying) role.
There are quite a few movies like The Town that come out each year; seemingly smaller films that turn out better than you’d imagine. In an arguably disappointing year, with several highlights being big genre pictures, The Town is a refreshing and realistic thriller that deserves your weekend dollar over any other flashy, trashy or 3D picture.
I’m really looking forward to Affleck’s next, and dare I call him the next Eastwood. So far our Shannon Hamilton, notorious for nailing women in the place they dread most (not the back of a Volkswagen), is 2 for 2.
Hot damn we’re in a generous mood today, aren’t we? Again thanks to Warner Bros Calgary, we’re giving you a chance to see Zack Snyder’s animated owl epic Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga’Hoole before anyone else.
The screening will take place next Sunday, September 19th at 10am, Scotiabank Chinook Theatre (once again, for Calgary residents only).
To enter, fire off an email to ryan [at] giantkillersquid.com with the subject line WARRIOR OWLS. In your email, give me your full name, the full name of the one guest you will be bringing, and the answer to this question:
What is the name of the upcoming 300 sequel, to be written by Frank Miller and directed by Zack Snyder?
Good luck to all that enter, we are giving away a total of 2 admit two passes, and will notify winners via email by Friday, September 17th.
As always, if you want even more chances to win free pre-screening tickets and merch, you must join the Warner Bros Calgary Facebook Group. You’ll thank us once you do, trust me.
Thanks to Warner Bros Calgary, we’ve got another exciting pre-screening coming up for The Town, directed by and starring Ben Affleck along with Jeremy Renner, Blake Lively and Jon Hamm. Early reviews suggest you do not want to miss this one.
The screening will be held this Wednesday, September 15 at 7pm, Empire Studio 10 (Macleod Trail) – sorry to all you non-Calgary readers.
So how do you win? It’s simple really, just send an email over to ryan [at] giantkillersquid.com with the subject line THE TOWN. In the email, give me your full name and the answer to the following question:
What was the first film directed by Ben Affleck?
Good luck! We’re giving away 3 sets of ADMIT TWO passes. Winners will be contacted via email no later than Tuesday, Sept. 14th by 12 noon.
Now go right now and join Warner Bros Calgary’s facebook group. They give a ton of tickets and prize-packs away. Kind of like how the Joker gave all that money away during that Gotham City parade in Batman.
There’s no doubt we live in an odd time for movies. Remakes flood the market almost on a weekly basis, and major film franchises can be rebooted within the same decade. And with the onslaught of 3D films gagging for our almighty dollar, clearly spun under the facade of “new” technology, studios are unmistakably looking to the past for originality – grasping at ideas that most of us won’t remember, or will gladly pay $12 to celebrate, while at the same time gasping for air.
But there’s a big difference between remaking an old film for a new audience than there is making a new film for a new audience, should that film embody the past – in this case the B-movie exploitation genre – while bringing something original and worthwhile to the screen. Taking it a step further is Machete, based on the fake trailer of the same name that appeared in Robert Rodriguez and Quentin Tarantino’s Grindhouse. Audiences lapped up Danny Trejo as a knife-throwing ultra bad-ass, never expecting the trailer to become truth, and before you know it we’re sitting in the theater waiting for the feature to begin. That, my friends, is dedication and passion. By that accord, Rodriguez earned some major kudos. I mean c’mon, this is the guy that brought you three (soon to be four) Spy Kids films (not to say that’s a bad thing). It’s clear that Rodriguez can pretty much do what he wants, and ends up doing it how he wants to do it.
Machete is most definitely what you expect. Hell, if you saw the Grindhouse trailer, you’ve essentially seen the film (and if you haven’t seen Grindhouse, you may not be in on the joke). Though the full-length feature is toned down in terms of that visual Grindhouse style – gone are the grainy film effects and watermarks used before – Machete is one long tongue-in-cheek camp-fest.
While the film is totally enjoyable and has that right amount of over-the-top silliness, ultimately that’s where the film fails. It’s just too little to spread out over the course of an entire film. The film exists to be unapologetic and exploitative, but sadly this means for a thin storyline with scenes that drag and jokes to fall flat. Again, if you’ve seen the trailer, you know the story, there was no deviation (and most of the trailer footage appears in the film). Machete, a former-federale thought dead, is hired to assassinate a racist Senator(played unremarkably by Robert DeNiro). He’s then double-crossed by his employer and Machete vows revenge, while the film tries to combat the silliness with flimsy messages on immigration and racism.
I’ve been a Danny Trejo fan for years (who hasn’t?) and was excited to see him finally get a leading role. Machete is the perfect vehicle for him to star in, but unfortunately he doesn’t do much as a main man. He is as violent as you would want, skilled and lethal with any weapon (even fashioning his own, like a Mexican MacGyver), and he has plenty of stone-faced one-liners. With such an ensemble cast, each one a vibrant characature, Trejo seemed to blend in with the rest of the cast in the second and third act. There some really great perfomances here, especially from Jeff Fahey, Steven Seagal and Don Johnson. Jessica Alba is once again terrible, and Robert DeNiro looks like a fish out of water, being especially painful to watch in the third act. In a stroke of perfect, art-imitating-life casting, Lindsay Lohan pulls off the most believable role in the film, playing a coke-addicted, sexually-charged young harlot. Lohan gets her fair share of heat, but I honestly enjoyed her in the film.
I’m having a hard time with Machete. On one hand I had a lot of fun, and the film definitely succeeds within the framework it created for itself. On the other hand, it’s just not as good as Grindhouse. It just feels like a spinoff. You can’t quite shake the feeling that it was made to ride on the coat tails of Grindhouse, which was this perfect little isolated experiment a whole three years ago. I acknowledge these shortcomings, and would go as far as saying the film is a facsimile of something better we’ve seen before, but there’s no doubt that I had fun. I’m happy the thing got made, with the people involved, and I’m happy to have seen it. Machete isn’t as awesome as I hoped it would be, nor is it bad by any stretch.
Just in time for Machete hitting theaters this weekend, we’ve got our first trailer for Hobo With A Shotgun, and AICN landed themselves a doozy - an unrated, head-splitting trailer with Rutger Hauer as the gun-toting titular Hobo.
Watch the trailer now, ya lousy cocksuckers:
I’ll be sleeping in your motherfucking carcass… TA-NIGHT!
Since its inception, geekdom has had many camps of the faithful spring up in support of their favorite series. One need only look around at a convention for a few minutes to see members of the 501st squadron sporting their PVC stormtrooper costumes, fans of ‘the Fett’ sporting their best battle-damaged Mandalorian armor and roving packs of red/blue/gold shirts from Star Trek showing their love for Roddenberry. The reception of each other when their paths cross in the vendor halls can be described as frosty at best. Why is that? Why isn’t there a nerd version of Rodney King saying ‘can’t we all get along?’? Well, to bastardize William Shakespeare to a degree, read on MacDuff.
Star Wars, the multi-billion dollar brain-child of George ‘King Beard’ Lucas has, since its humble beginnings in 1977, grown from mere fandom and collection of swag to borderline religion. I believe that people in England have put down their religion as ‘Jedi’ when asked to fill out their census forms. Even at the most recent Star Wars Celebration in Orlando, Florida there were Star Wars themed wedding ceremonies. Fans of ‘the Wars’ let their geek flags fly the highest, but even within the Star Wars camps there is fractures (Jedi vs. Sith, fans of the original trilogy vs. the prequel series etc.) but they are all united in one aspect “Star Wars rules and Star Trek sucks!”. If I can make a suggestion though O Star Wars fan, put the lightsaber down and give Trek a view. You might even be surprised to find that there are similarities between the two: big ships with lasers, cyborgs and multi-faction conflict. You may also be shocked to find out that there are more black people in the galaxy aside from Lando Calrissian.
Now onto Star Trek, Gene Roddenberry’s ‘Gunsmoke in Space’, debuting on television in 1966 the series ran for three seasons and was cancelled on June 3 1969. By then, in spite of low Nielsen ratings, the series had developed a strong following that culminated in one of the first fan conventions. Four series (5 if you include the short-lived animated series), 12 movies and a metric ton of merchandise later the travels of the USS Enterprise have stretched far and wide. Even with a series that has an idealized society with humans and aliens living in near-harmony (the allegory on racism of the original series with Frank Gorshin in black and white face paint not withstanding) and the need for material possessions has been all but removed all is not right within the Star Trek camp. Now, O Star Trek fan; put logic aside for now and give Star Wars a look. It has blasters, scoundrels that captain their own ships and even philosophy with a sci-fi edge.
You’re probably wondering why I haven’t cast my critical ‘eye of Sauron’ onto other series like Firefly, Battlestar Gallactica or Dr. Who. That’s because if I tried to give detailed attention to all of those popular genre shows with huge followings I would never be finished. Although I may revisit this topic in later critiques, so stay tuned true believer!
If I may postulate, there is another camp out there that needs to get some much needed recognition, this camp is compiled of those fans that span multiple genres, series and mediums. They are the fans of sci-fi, horror, anime, fantasy, comic books, video games and tabletop RPGs. They love it all and like a parent of a large family they simply can’t pick a favorite. This is a camp that I can say proudly that I am a card-carrying member of, editorial bias be damned! This camp has been regarded as lazy and unmotivated by the more fervent and fanatical fan camps out there with the main argument being that we don’t pick a side.
I say that picking a side of fandom removes any chance of truly enjoying it all. Look at it this way, by enjoying everything nerdy on an even level I can enjoy it when reboots of a long standing series works like J.J. Abrams’ Star Trek and I’m not nearly as disappointed when it doesn’t work like Star Wars Episodes 1-3. Also, this camp has no limitations when it comes to expressing one’s fandom. While I might be a little wigged out by the Star Trek conventions and Star Wars celebrations, I feel perfectly at home where every aspect of fandom is represented, such as The Calgary Comic and Entertainment Expo and San Diego Comic Con.
My final thought on this comes from bastardizing another celebrity, in this case Bruce Lee. Fandom is like a finger pointing to the moon, do not strictly focus on the finger or you will lose out on all that heavenly glory.
I rarely go to movies opening night. I may go to a Thursday midnight showing if the crowd is right, or, if I absolutely can’t wait until Sunday or see it in advance, then and only then, will I break my rule.
I like a packed theatre. Ever since I saw Star Wars re-released on one screen in north east Calgary, I’ve been in love with the thought of a room full of hundreds of people, silent and lost, all entertained and spellbound by the giant screen in front of them. That type of social activity – let’s not kid anyone, movie-going is a social activity – has become a huge part of my life, my vitality and, based on how you’re reading this, my career. Films are very important to me, and I love it when it’s important to other people. Most of all, I love it when people enjoy movies, be it together, alone, at home or out at the multiplex.
So last night I get home from work a little earlier than normal. I’m feeling good that it’s the weekend. You see, I tend to work a lot. Ask anyone who knows me, I’m sure they’d concede that I work too much. But alas, I was feeling rewarding and decided holy heck, I’m gonna do something I never do, and go to the movies on opening night!
The first Friday and Saturday tends to bring out the talkers, you see, which is where my “no weekend” rule originated. Simply, I had too many bad experiences on a Friday or Saturday night, so instead of driving myself crazy, I endure a few days and see the film on a Sunday night or even better, Monday. But something in me threw caution to the wind last night and I headed out to my nearby theatre for the 7:20 screening of The Last Exorcism, a film I have been excited to see and has received pretty good reviews and word of mouth.
Everything was going great. I barely had to wait in line for tickets, I got the much coveted centre-middle seats, and I had plenty of time before the show. The theatre wasn’t even that busy, by the time the film started it was maybe 70% at best. So I did something I also rarely do, I went and bought a big bag of popcorn and a drink. Woah, did someone win the lottery? No. I was just feeling good about the weekend, about seeing a movie, and wanted to be positive and have a fun time with little things that I never do. I spend most of my movie-going excursions either lining up early for pre-screenings (which I now prefer over anything) or I’m taking in the film and planning my review late on a Monday night. What I was doing last night, was the essence of going to the movies. I wasn’t just doing it as a means to end the night. I wasn’t just going because it was something to do, a clockwork knee-jerk outing that it has become to so many. I went to the movies to be fucking entertained. I paid my earned dollar to sit in a chair with a cup-holder, eat mediocre popcorn by the handful and enjoy a film.
Why do I enjoy films? Is it because I have a passion and admiration for the art-form, and thrive on writing about it? Certainly. I’m sure I do have more invested than the average man or woman, though not by much, considering the amount of bank the film industry pulls in on a weekly basis. But the real reason I love movies, is because it is escapism for me. I enjoy them so much, that for those 90+ minutes, I’m not stressed. I can’t deal with my problems during that time, nor do I have to. I can just escape and enjoy and have fun, regardless of the film’s quality. It’s a no bullshit two hour pass.
So I’m in my seat, eating away at popcorn while completely dominating the rest of the audience at the on-screen movie trivia, mentally, when two girls, I’d guess aged 16, sit down in the seats behind me. I could hear them coming through the little walkway at the front of the theatre, as they apparently have no semblance of inside-voice. The movie wasn’t set to start for another fifteen minutes, and after about five minutes of talking from the girls behind me, I thought to myself why don’t I just move now and skip the unpleasantries should they decide to keep talking during the film. So I did, I grabbed my snacks and moved to rows down, to the middle-right aisle. Ahh. That was better. Much quieter and less people.
Crisis averted?
I think not.
The trailers start just as two couples, I’m guessing around age 18, take the row directly to my right. To paint a picture, it goes: me, empty seat, aisle, empty seat, fuck bags. They are talking loudly on their way to the seats, hell you would definitely consider this yelling, within the confines of a crowded theater. If you were in a grocery store, you would certainly hear them two aisles away. I don’t know whether or not they always chatter with such volume, or whether it was a sexual “I’m trying to impress the opposite sex and my Tap Out shirt isn’t sealing the deal” thing. Quite frankly, I didn’t care. But reasonably, I can’t do anything about it, the trailers are not the feature, no matter how much I love that part of the experience. For the record, I can make out every word they are saying, crystal clear. This is not a case of the whisper-humms, which are still equally as distracting and unacceptable.
A little jingle, a familiar tune plays and an animation marks the countdown to the feature. Please deposit all refuse when leaving the theater. Please no talking. Please turn your cell phone off. Please no texting. Enjoy the movie.
The row to my right, let’s call them ”They!”, continued to talk, seemingly without pause, and not in intervals. It was like The View with loud, obnoxious, hormonally off-balanced and horny under-achievers. Hey, I remember what it was like being young. I don’t remember what it was like to be a fucking douchebag, though I’m confident in my ability to smoke them out.
The Last Exorcism doesn’t really have much of a score, and it’s non-existent in the film’s opening scenes. They! continue talking and laughing and making noises (Pokemon noises perhaps? Yu-Gi-Oh? MMA?) at such volume, that I skip the three strikes and you’re shushed rule and head straight for the shush. as I shushed, I noticed the row behind me, and behind They! to be glaring at the offenders. It’s clear now that I’m the cinema sheriff. Great.
So I shush. It wasn’t an aggressive shush, but rather a hey guys, can you please keep it down and thank you shush, if there were such a shush. My warning missile has gone unheeded. The discussion continues, now at seemingly higher decibels, though I know they heard me, as the more demure of the two trollops echoed a faint shush at her male companion. I don’t remember exactly what they were saying, but I’m certain it wasn’t relevant to the film.
Five or so more minutes go by. They maintain the scene. I shush once more. This was not a precautionary shush. This was a fuck shush. I think after the second shush, the fuck shush, they simply chose to ignore me. This is good, as now I know something. I know that they simply aren’t ignorant. They! are disrespectful little shits. And loud too, the worst kind of shits.
This continues for about fifteen minutes. And fifteen minutes is a long time in a movie. By now we’re about 35 or 40 minutes into the film, well underway in its story, when I deploy my first verbal attack. I always hate having to tell people to stop talking. It’s an absolute last resort for me. I prefer the quick lean and stare first, but that doesn’t always get their attention. Then I’ll fall back on a precise shush, so not to disturb the rest of the theatre. In the case of The Last Exorcism, I am without doubt that the entire theatre could hear They!. Scientifically, unless you were Helen Keller, no seat in auditorium 8 was exempt from disturbance. So I do the lean and stare, then I pop with a whisper. I didn’t yell, nor did I talk. It was a whisper so sharp, so minute, that it cut like a razor, and they heard it.
Shut up.
Their continuing discussion – readers, I’m being dead serious, this was louder than food court appropriate volume – halts for a brief second and they snap their necks left to see me, a dark figure with a mean lean. The two girls, be it in a mocking way or an ape-like monkey-see-monkey-do way, barrage the boys with arrogant shushes. Mocking shushes. They might as well have yelled like, omigod Craig totally be quiet this is so embarassing but I love the attention.
I can hear people behind me moving to stare at the row. I’m not worried about my status in the theatre, though at this point I’m wondering why the hell anyone else hasn’t stepped up to back their valiant, yet nervous, sheriff. It takes a lot for me to confront someone, even in the dark anonymity of a movie theatre. I don’t like it. I hate it. I don’t take any joy in it whatsoever, and usually it’s when I’m pushed to my limits that I actually do something about it. My heart was pounding so hard at this point, I wondered if the whole row could feel it. Untz, untz, untz, like a bad techno song pumping through my popcorn buttered arteries.
The commentary from They! gets louder and more abrasive. They! don’t like the movie. They! are critics.
Yo, this movie sucks balls.
When is this shit gonna get scary?
[Insert more irrelevant, crude commentary here]
This is killing me. At this point I’m no longer invested in the movie. I can’t enjoy it. It seems like a good film, and I really want to be in it, but I can’t. And not because I’m so out of control with my anger, but because watching the film was akin to watching The English Patient during a Li’l Jon concert. I don’t know what kept me going. Maybe it was denial. Maybe it was the yearning I had an hour early to escape on a Friday night. But I tried. And they continued to try my patience.
Two of the offenders said fuck this, quite audibly, and left. While the remaining two maintained their conversation, it was at half-volume now. See, they had no one to impress, and like Paul Walker, their voice only gets deeper and louder in the presence of other males. Competition and bravado. The cheesiest of machismo. I tried to soldier through. It was a real shame, as I’m sure under normal circumstance I would really dig the film. A few minutes later my heart sank, as They! part 1 of 2, returned, beginning their discussion with their accomplices before they even arrived at their seats.
Yo, does this movie still suck?
[Yo, insert more unfathomable shit uttered in a movie theatre here]
We were all right back where we started. I could feel the tension in the audience. This was not just me. No one else dared to speak up, however. Fast forward another 5 or 10 minutes – at this point it’s about an hour into the film, and the S is starting to hit the F onscreen – and They! are laughing, yelling, making movie commentary and talking about what they’re doing after the movie, the terrible movie that they’re wasting their time on. I decide to give it one last go. As I do it, I think I hear another audience member shush them, though I can’t be sure. I was seeing blood red. Still a whisper, and in the most respectful way to my fellow movie-goers:
Guys, will you shut the fuck up?!
They turn and look, and without hesitation, one of the girls of They! yells back:
Fuck you.
I’m confused. Fuck me?
I sat back in my seat, totally removed from the theatre. Totally removed from Earth as I tried to collect myself and figure out what exactly was happening. Am I crazy? Is this actually a Halloween screening of Rocky Horror Picture Show? Am I in fact at Mardi Gras or perhaps a UFC pay-per-view event? I needed to be sure, to save myself the embarrassment of not knowing where I was, who I was with, or the social norms of the situation.
Wait, no… I’m quite sure I’m at an early screening of a movie on a Friday night. Never mind. If a cat were in my presence and I were making out with it, that cat would literally have my tongue, but for now let’s stick figuratively. I was speechless. They were not. One of They! made a funny and the four of them guffawed like the drunk on Hee Haw (wait, weren’t they all drunk?). They yelled and talked and talked some more. I had it.
I got up and I left. I had absolutely no desire to be in that theatre anymore. I was completely removed from the film, my daring evening of entertainment now a faint and unattainable memory. I would not subject myself to such savagery for one more second.
So I did the obvious and complained to the manager. Surprisingly he asked me where they were seated, and I told him, with the accuracy of a Swedish engineer. He left and returned three minutes later with a couple of passes to see the movie again. I was gracious, though I expected a refund, but the manager need not incur my wrath. I’m not the type of cat to chew out anyone in the service industry, and am always respectful to those serving me. Truth be told I miss the old days, when an usher would periodically squash any talkers or flash a light on those treating the seats like a la-z-boy. And honestly, as I told him about They!, I could tell he really didn’t give a fuck, and I resented him for that. But I said my thank you and went home, a crushed, defeated man.
I’ve addressed movie etiquette before, at great lengths, and I’m not going to rehash that article or rant on like a broken record. People will always talk during movies, and they will always be scum. It will always be inappropriate and unreasonable and unacceptable, there is no changing it, nor is there a second to debate it.
I am, however, going to take a new approach this time around. If you are in a movie theatre and you witness what I did, or any talking or cell phone usage for that matter, do something about it. Don’t be complacent. You spent money to enjoy that film, don’t let someone take it from you. Be responsible. Take action. Don’t tolerate it. Obviously an animation and some words before a movie aren’t doing anything, they haven’t for almost as long as I’ve lived and breathed movies. So step up, protect your investment and say no.
We can’t tolerate this anymore. It kills me, as a film lover and writer, to see this kind of thing happen, and it kills me even more to say that I’ll never step foot in a theatre on a weekend again. And for what? Ignorant, disrespectful people who know better.
Learn to shush.
And to Eli Roth and the rest of the cast and crew of The Last Exorcism, it seemed you have a great movie on your hands. I look forward to seeing the second half.
I am a fan of stunning visual imagery in film making, such as Hayden Christensen in an impeccably tailored suit and a bowler hat.
Hayden Christensen, in a wife-beater with tattoos, playing the piano while smoking.
Hayden Christensen’s adam’s apple while he drills a giant hole in the ceiling and fills it with C-4
Zoe Saldana in skinny jeans.
I was psyched for Takers. I’ll admit to having anticipated this B-list star studded heist film all summer long. I was hoping to be pleasantly surprised by something awesome. I knew I’d be disappointed. Even so, I was pumped.
The heist crew features, of course, Hayden Christensen, as well as Chris Brown, T.I., Paul Walker, and two other guys. Zoe Saldana is in for three scenes as a love interest. Matt Dillon is the hardened detective on the case. There’s a couple of heists. The Russians shoot up the place. That’s about it.
Okay, so it was bad. I mean, I am a fan of any mediocre action film featuring Paul Walker. Really, a mediocre action film is all it takes to please me on most accounts. Give me a generic heist film, and I am a happy, happy girl.
There is absolutely no reason why a heist, in which the main heist is from The Italian Job (which T.I. helpfully points out in the film), should be two hours long. Thank Christ for the generically abrupt ending which sets up a bevy of sequels, because I just couldn’t sit any more.
Always seeking the positives here. T.I. makes an excellent villain. He’s just so slimy and deliciously evil. Matt Dillon was basically born to play an angry overly violent detective who is just focused on getting the job done at all costs. Chris Brown, mercifully, doesn’t say much.
The homages to Oceans 11 are beautiful, getting all those gangsters dressed up in their finest suits and suspenders. The Italian Job scene is wonderful, with Paul Walker proving he only looks like an insurance salesmen, but can still crack some skulls. Chop thirty minutes out of the movie and concentrate on simply recreating the heist formula with new faces and better explosions, and this movie would have been alright.
I know all you squidies are planning to go see The Last Exorcism this weekend instead, and I fully endorse your decision, unless you are like me and aroused by ex-Jedi in suspenders.
Iron Fist might not be a top-tier recognizable character in Marvel’s library, but the he goes back for decades. He’s also no stranger to the big-screen adaptation game, though regardless of what Ray Park tells you, a live-action film never took off.
With the success of Marvel Studios lately, and an apparent second-coming of comic book films, what better time to go full steam ahead on an Iron Fist film then now?
Deadline is reporting that screenwriter Rich Wilkes (xXx) has signed on to pen the script. No other names are attached as of yet, but if you’re at any comic conventions from now until the film comes out, I’m sure Ray Park will tell you he’s playing the lead role, as he has for a decade now.
If you ask me, I’d much rather see a Luke Cage team-up in a Heroes for Hire film, but Iron Fist is a rich character on his own.
If you’re unfamiliar with the character, read all about him over at Marvel’s wiki page.
When I heard Alexandre Aja was going full-retard and casting his net out on a 3D Piranha remake, he had me hook, line and sinker (*cue trumpet). I’ve been a big fan of Aja since Haute Tension and his remake of The Hills Have Eyes is one of the few superior horror retellings. The thing about Aja is that he gets gore in a way that we haven’t seen in a while, similar to Eli Roth (who coincidentally appears in Pirana 3D). So you would think a hard R-rated monster movie would be heaven for B-movie gore fans.
Well it is and it isn’t.
Piranha 3D is a mindless, dumb blood-bath that doesn’t take itself seriously for one moment. And that’s not necessarily a bad thing, just an acquired thing. The film currently sits at an 81% fresh rating over at Rotten Tomatoes, and the reviews coming in from all over the net seem to echo the same sentiment – the film can be fun. Personally I felt that the film lacked something to make the experience a truly remarkable display of schlock. The ingredients are all there, and there’s no lack of gross out money-shots, but on the whole I felt Aja played it a little too safe and instead the film, clocking in at less than 90 minutes, plays out more like a movie prop demo reel. There’s really nothing we haven’t seen before. I see the film’s intention, but instead of celebrating and reinvigorating the sub-genre, Piranha succumbs to its own pitfalls as a testosterone-fueled facsimile.
The plot is thin, but could the subject matter be any more complex? A small earthquake hits the Amity-esque beach town of Lake Victoria, opening up a cave system hidden beneath the surface and unleashing thousands of prehistoric piranha fish. These aren’t your daddy’s piranhas, apparently; the only difference is that they are faster and more blood-thirsty than the already-terrifying aquatic carnivores. The new visitors couldn’t have come at a more opportune time as the quaint town has become overrun with alcohol-soaked college students on spring break, turning the lake into a veritable stew for the fish. The action starts early and continues through the film with an impressive amount of boobs, butts, body parts and bones being displayed and destroyed.
You go to a movie like this expecting two things, nudity and gore, and the film does deliver albeit with a direct-to-video after-taste. There are a couple of great kills, though I found the best ones didn’t come at the hands – or should I say teeth – of the titular monsters but instead boat propellers or even the boats themselves. In regards to the nippy little fish, by the time we see our third or fourth leg bone the gimmick has lost its edge. By now you’ve no doubt heard about the “penis” scene, and believe me the concept of said scene is far more intriguing than it’s execution. Though there is something to be said about seeing a detached cock in 3D…
Which brings me to the obligatory dismissal of the 3D in the film. Like the vast majority of films with the added effect, the 3D in Piranha is unnecessary and distracting, adding nothing to the film and significantly decreasing the visual quality. The kills are not made better, the nudity is not made better, and the CG piranhas themselves are certainly not enhanced nor do they feel more terrifying. The film is another victim of the post-production addition of 3D, meaning the film was not shot using 3D cameras. The same shifting, lighting and depth issues exist in Piranha as they do in every other film converted in post (though in this case not near as bad as in Clash of the Titans, though still not passable by any stretch).
The cast does a decent job with what they’ve got to work with, and everyone is on board tonally with how characters should work. None of them are really given any time or development, though I’m not entirely sure how they could have. It’s nice seeing Elisabeth Shue in a leading role, and she does a convincing job as the sheriff of Lake Victoria and protective mother. Adam Scott is a welcome addition, but really is he ever not? If anything the film needed more of him, as we’ve seen how funny can be. The rest of the cast is peppered with recognizables in minute roles including Ving Rhames and Jerry O’Connell. There’s also great cameos from Eli Roth, Richard Dreyfuss (in a knock-you-on-the-head-subtle nod and wink to Jaws) and Christopher Lloyd. Oh, and like, fifty porn stars.
If you’re looking for the most superfluous, path-of-least-resistance cheese, then Piranha works. Certainly not worth the ridiculous premium on the $15 3D ticket.
*It’s also slightly ridiculous how a piece of crafted film like Scott Pilgrim can be called misogynistic when Piranha 3D is treated like the kid that doesn’t know better.
X-Men First Class, Matthew Vaughn’s prequel to the X-Men franchise, is one of those comic book properties seemingly riddled with rumors and unconfirmed casting and characters. And with the list of characters teetering dangerously near the side of “over-saturated”, some rumor control was direly needed.
X-Men and X-2 director Bryan Singer took an opportunity to clear up many of the rumors (and add some new information) surrounding First Class. In a recent conversation with AICN, singer spilled the following beans:
The film is set in the 1960’s with Charles Xavier and Erik Lehnsherr in their late twenties. Xavier will not be in a wheelchair (though how he ends up in one will be revealed) nor will he be bald.
In terms of technology, the film will be similar in tone to the James Bond films.
The costumes will be vibrant and fantastical than previous films. AICN describes them as “comic bookish”. Singer hints that we could have our first peeks at costumes within a month.
Scott Summers (Cyclops) and Jean Grey will not be in the film, though Scott’s brother Alex, also known as the mutant Havoc, will appear, played by actor Lucas Till.
January Jones is confirmed for Emma Frost and Kevin Bacon is confirmed as Sebastian Shaw, leading the Hellfire Club as the film’s core villain(s).
The film is really starting to fill out, casting-wise, but frankly I’m a little worried that already we’ll be seeing too many mutants, a problem that weakened the third film. Not only that, but it seems they’re going with a lot more lesser known characters, some only the die-hard x-fans would know. That being said, here’s the cast of First Class as it stands now:
Magneto … Michael Fassbender
Professor X … James McAvoy
Beast … Nicholas Hoult
Emma Frost … January Jones
Havok … Lucas Till
Banshee … Caleb Landry Jones
Mystique … Jennifer Lawrence
Moira McTaggart … Rose Byrne
Azazel … Jason Flemyng
Angel … Zoe Kravitz
Darwin … Edi Gathegi
X-Men First Class will be directed by Matthew Vaughn (Kick-Ass, Stardust) and will hit theaters next June 3, 2011.
One of the many shining performances in Scott Pilgrim was from Chris Evans playing Lucas Lee, Ramona Flowers’ second evil ex-boyfriend, Hollywood film star and pro skateboarder. In the film we quickly see footage and posters for Lucas Lee’s films, typical Hollywood fare, but now we can sit back and truly drink the posters in.
For your consideration, here are the movies of Lucas Lee:
I would be lying if I said I didn’t want all of these films to happen.
In the last month I’ve been in a theatre three times where the trailer for Devil has played before the feature. Each and every time, the theatre let out an audible groan when ‘from the mind of M. Night Shyamalan’ hit the screen. While in my head I echoed their sentiment, it’s disheartening that Devil will be met with resistance from some, based on M. Night’s involvement alone. While his name is slapped all over the film and its marketing, Shyamalan is credited as producer and coming up with the idea – he did not write the screenplay, nor direct.
When I first saw the trailer for Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga’Hoole – you know the one, with the slo-mo helmet adorned warrior owls, set to Jared Leto’s band channeling U2 – I admit, I sprung a big geeky one. It’s like someone read my childhood notebook and took the two most badass things I could think of, warrior helmets and owls, and handed ‘em over to the guy that made 300 and Watchmen and set him loose on it. But over time, with more recent posters and tv spots, and the incessant buzzing of ‘from the creators of Happy Feet‘, I began to worry that I would be let down by a really powerful concept made silly for kids. Then I showed up a little late to the pre-screening this morning, only to be surrounded by kidlets. Young ones too, even babies. It looked like free hot dog day at a lunchtime showing of Alvin and the Chipmunks: The Squeakuel.
Ben Affleck has a bigger bum rap than Sir Mix-A-Lot.
There’s no doubt we live in an odd time for movies. Remakes flood the market almost on a weekly basis, and major film franchises can be rebooted within the same decade. And with the onslaught of 3D films gagging for our almighty dollar, clearly spun under the facade of “new” technology, studios are unmistakably looking to the past for originality – grasping at ideas that most of us won’t remember, or will gladly pay $12 to celebrate, while at the same time gasping for air.
I am a fan of stunning visual imagery in film making, such as Hayden Christensen in an impeccably tailored suit and a bowler hat.
Iron Fist might not be a top-tier recognizable character in Marvel’s library, but the he goes back for decades. He’s also no stranger to the big-screen adaptation game, though regardless of what Ray Park tells you, a live-action film never took off.
When I heard Alexandre Aja was going full-retard and casting his net out on a 3D Piranha remake, he had me hook, line and sinker (*cue trumpet). I’ve been a big fan of Aja since Haute Tension and his remake of The Hills Have Eyes is one of the few superior horror retellings. The thing about Aja is that he gets gore in a way that we haven’t seen in a while, similar to Eli Roth (who coincidentally appears in Pirana 3D). So you would think a hard R-rated monster movie would be heaven for B-movie gore fans.
